Blackout

Apologies for the blogging blackout. I was doing maintenance & experimenting with Blogger settings when some friends & company showed up unexpectedly, & I got distracted. I didn't realize that I had changed some settings the previous night until I logged in the following evening. Things are back to normal now, though I may continue tinkering with the blog in the future. Next time I shutdown the blog for maintenance, I'll be sure to post a notice here about the scheduled blackout.

Speaking of blackouts, I never understood what people meant by blackouts when drinking. I've never experienced a blackout--where I don't remember my actions or events because I drank too much alcohol. I've passed out before, but I've never blacked out. And if I don't remember anything, that's because I was passed out when the events happened, not because I'm mentally blocking out events that I experienced or witnessed.

Sure, I've woken up in strange places, amongst strangers in a strange environment before--rooftops, livestock pastures, abandoned warehouses, & once in between shipping containers at the harbor. But that's because I passed out there, & in an hour or less, all the memories (& shame) usually come back to me (& no amount of scrubbing in the shower can remove that shame nor those embarrassing memories). Some filth you just can't wash away, no matter how hard you scrub & how much soap you use.

The point is, I pass out if I overindulge in spirits. I never blackout. I've also been very fortunate enough to have never, ever thrown up nor experienced a bad hangover from overindulgence. I know when I've had enough--the goal is to experience a buzz, not poisoning. You know when you've had enough. If you don't, try slowing down! Savor the flavor. Don't chug & blow chunks.

And if I pass out from overindulging, it's because I wore myself out, tired & spent (probably from doing something silly/stupid/ridiculous/reckless). Remember: Alcohol lowers inhibitions, making you take more risks & make very poor decisions, like skinny dipping on a freezing, cold night or making love on a beach in the middle of the night.

Don't do it! Sand hurts! It scratches & cuts the skin, especially the knees & elbows! You're gonna feel it the next day. Use a beach towel or some sort of blanket to protect yourselves from the grinding sand. And be aware that mosquitoes & other biting insects leave itchy welts on the tender parts of your exposed body. Don't operate heavy machinery, don't operate any vehicles, don't make any significant life choices (like wedding proposals, family planning, or getting a tattoo) when you're drunk.

There are important life lessons to be learned the morning after a night of overindulgence. For one thing, leftover pizza is just as delicious cold or when warmed in a microwave. And the pizza, cold or hot, tastes better when enhanced with a topping of nacho chips or corn chips. Chicken wings are better warmed in a microwave or a quick stir fry in a pan on a hot stove. Leftover fried chicken is delicious when eaten chilled, right out of the fridge. Toasted, warm bread is always more delicious when smeared with butter or dipped in leftover pizza tomato sauce or garlic butter sauce. Drink lots of water. Hydration is essential the morning after a night of overindulgence.

Friends/overnight guests will appreciate whatever you feed them. If they don't like what you're serving, then they shouldn't have drank so much & crashed overnight at your place!

If I can't remember certain things & events from the night before, it's definitely because I passed out when these things & events took place. I don't blackout. I pass out. And this explains my current conundrum.

I had a hankering for some Frijoles Refritos (aka refried beans--although, well fried is the more accurate term). But I couldn't find my chili powder. It wasn't in the spice rack where I kept all the spices. It wasn't anywhere in the kitchen nor the dining room nor living room. I even searched the bedrooms & bathroom & the linen closets, all the unlikely spaces. Hell, I even dived in the trashcan to see if I had thrown it away. But nope. Nothing. No chili powder in sight.

I know I had some. I just bought a new bottle this past weekend. I remember opening it last night to make sangritas to chase the tequila shots. Hell, this morning in the shower, I washed off the chili powder & salt mixture stains off my abs & nipples from when we did body shots. So I know I had chili powder, a brand new bottle, & there's no way we could've used it all! Especially when we ran out of limes & switched over to doing sweeter tequila shots, licking sugar (not salt) off the body, gulping the tequila in one shot, then biting into an orange wedge (no limes).

Whatever happened to the chili powder happened after I went to bed & passed out. I suppose I could call my friends & try to figure out what happened to my chili powder, assuming they remember. They are no strangers to suppressing memories & experiencing blackouts. I don't suppress; I compartmentalize & move on. Live & learn.

But now, I wonder, do I really want to know what happened to the chili powder? Why was some of my furniture moved out of place? Why is there a pile of crumpled sheets in the laundry basket? I just did the washing on Sunday. There shouldn't be any laundry piles yet! Not til Wednesday at the earliest! Alcohol makes you do crazy things, & I wasn't sure I wanted to know what crazy things happened after I went to bed & passed out afterwards. The surprise stinging pain on my back when the water washed over my raked skin was a sharp, jolting reminder in the shower this morning that I may have done some crazy things as well.

One tequila. Two tequila. Three tequila. Snore. Wake up the next day, & you're gonna feel sore.

Maybe it's just easier to buy some chili powder after work. Let sleeping dogs lie. Sometimes, it's a blessing to be left in the dark. In fact, that's what I'll do. Buy chili powder & move on. After all, one of the most important lessons one learns the morning after a night of overindulgence is definitely: The less said, the better. Some things are better off forgotten!