Dinner & Drinks
The evening began with a lovely, sensual French red. This was my now former Advisor's (MNFA) contribution to the Thank-you meal I planned to honour him and Sarah for their significant, inarticuable support during the most crucial time in my creative life up to this point. I guess I can refer to him as my friend--it'll take some adjusting to get myself out of this academic paradigm where all that's concerned.
I would like to say that I was the picture of decorum and social appropriateness. This is not quite true. I found myself in the predicament of having had alcohol on a nearly empty stomach, and so felt the impact of said alcohol very quickly. Even at dinner, it seems that I didn't eat that much--the momentum was too strong, and it just built on itself.
You know those times when memories of things you said or did in a highly stressful situation, or as in this case, under the influence of a fine wine (and a martini), comes back to you in waves of recollection? Well, this has been happening all day.
I prefaced every question to Sarah with "Was there a point last night when I said....?"
The Highlights:
I announced at one point that I am Katherine Hepburn.
I asserted that I found Al Gore extremely sexy in the early 90s.
At one point, my hairclip fell into my martini. I promptly removed it and put it back in my hair as though there was nothing really unusual about this.
This does not begin to scratch the surface. I was essentially a hot mess.
The fact that I was an unwitting, though very entertaining, inebriated socialite aside, the evening was a complete success. We were seated at just a little after 7, and we did not leave the restaurant until 11. There were anecdotes, quizzes, the sharing of desserts (my insistence on tasting other people's side dishes and chianti).
Here's what's clear. I've been feeling fragile all week, and I don't exactly know why. I think I'm mourning the fact that my master's career is over. I think that being with two people--two friends--that I hold in such high esteem made me feel kind of quietly daring and safe enough to be unhinged. There may be some pathology in that. I'm not exploring it tonight.
But I didn't like how I felt this morning. My first coherent thought was "Gosh, I am such an idiot!"
Sarah assured me that it was all fine, and that the atmosphere was very very convivial and good-natured. She did her best to convince me that while I was not my usually checked self, that I was not the ass I feared I was. She and MNFA had a blast. I felt that. I felt it being a good night (even drunk you know when the vibe is bad), and I liked the dynamic. If it should ever happen again (and I hope it does), I would have something to eat so there wouldn't be a repeat performance.
The evening began with a lovely, sensual French red. This was my now former Advisor's (MNFA) contribution to the Thank-you meal I planned to honour him and Sarah for their significant, inarticuable support during the most crucial time in my creative life up to this point. I guess I can refer to him as my friend--it'll take some adjusting to get myself out of this academic paradigm where all that's concerned.
I would like to say that I was the picture of decorum and social appropriateness. This is not quite true. I found myself in the predicament of having had alcohol on a nearly empty stomach, and so felt the impact of said alcohol very quickly. Even at dinner, it seems that I didn't eat that much--the momentum was too strong, and it just built on itself.
You know those times when memories of things you said or did in a highly stressful situation, or as in this case, under the influence of a fine wine (and a martini), comes back to you in waves of recollection? Well, this has been happening all day.
I prefaced every question to Sarah with "Was there a point last night when I said....?"
The Highlights:
I announced at one point that I am Katherine Hepburn.
I asserted that I found Al Gore extremely sexy in the early 90s.
At one point, my hairclip fell into my martini. I promptly removed it and put it back in my hair as though there was nothing really unusual about this.
This does not begin to scratch the surface. I was essentially a hot mess.
The fact that I was an unwitting, though very entertaining, inebriated socialite aside, the evening was a complete success. We were seated at just a little after 7, and we did not leave the restaurant until 11. There were anecdotes, quizzes, the sharing of desserts (my insistence on tasting other people's side dishes and chianti).
Here's what's clear. I've been feeling fragile all week, and I don't exactly know why. I think I'm mourning the fact that my master's career is over. I think that being with two people--two friends--that I hold in such high esteem made me feel kind of quietly daring and safe enough to be unhinged. There may be some pathology in that. I'm not exploring it tonight.
But I didn't like how I felt this morning. My first coherent thought was "Gosh, I am such an idiot!"
Sarah assured me that it was all fine, and that the atmosphere was very very convivial and good-natured. She did her best to convince me that while I was not my usually checked self, that I was not the ass I feared I was. She and MNFA had a blast. I felt that. I felt it being a good night (even drunk you know when the vibe is bad), and I liked the dynamic. If it should ever happen again (and I hope it does), I would have something to eat so there wouldn't be a repeat performance.
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