Drunk Dialing~

It is almost one in the morning, which isn't surprising because I frequently blog late at night. I have had half a bottle of a pretty satisfying pinot noir, plenty of crunchy French bread (for absorption purposes), and a handful of Double Stuff Oreos - which is pretty much the only way to go anymore. They should just take those ordinary stuffed ones right off the shelf.

Right now the people that know me best are probably reading this through their fingers like when you watch a scary movie - afraid to watch it straight on, but unable to look away. They can see the signs that point to disaster in my world, namely wine and being up by myself at one in the morning. Typically, I make some bad decisions in these situations. Even more so now that technology lets me instantly connect to anyone, at anytime. It is like drunk dialing without all the hassle of making my wine-weighted fingers work that complicated cell phone touch screen. And my lucky recipients can't talk back or hang up. Genius. Damn you Facebook, I love you.

In the past, I have been a prolific drunk dialer. I am a chatty drinker to begin with, so that does not work in my favor. When everyone else that I am drinking with falls asleep or passes out - I am forced to go in search of someone else to listen to me prattle. Typically this is a sober person that I wake up and then say "oh? you are awake? Great!" I am also a drunk dialer whore - I will call anyone. I don't limit myself to ex's or significant others. Siblings, friends, strangers on a drinking buddy's phone...all fair game. As long as this person isn't an ex, I am usually forgiven and listened to. As a rule, ex's are less than thrilled. Also, if it is early enough in the evening and I call my mom - she will yell at me and then call me at an obscene hour the next morning purely to set off a hangover headache.


Even with all of this however, I don't hold the record as the worst drunk dialer of my acquaintance. That title goes to Wallace, who we all learned recently was married in Vegas. Well, back before he knew his bride - he liked to drink vodka at my house back when I was married to Brad. Brad found it hysterical to get Wallace all liquored up - primarily because Wallace is a very big guy and when he drinks he falls into and over EVERYTHING. (I stopped letting them play in the house when he fell ON my coffee table and crushed it.) The all time favorite drunk dial involved Wallace calling one of our sisters, thinking he got her voice mail, and talking for about three quarters of an hour about God was cursing him because he wasn't 'getting any'. I will forever have a mental picture of Wallace sitting drunk in my recliner, pointing at the ceiling and telling God if he really loved him, then he would give him some 'tail'. I have never been prouder as a big sister.

So all the signs would seem to suggest that tonight I was setting myself up for a memory that I would rather not make - because let's face it - those phone conversations never go the way you want them to go. Chet wasn't going to hear me on the phone with a wine slur and instantly think I was so much more attractive. Or read an email that liquor logic put together and think I was so much smarter. And tomorrow morning I would not be proud of myself for speaking my sloshed mind and being open and honest about all my feelings. However, perhaps due to my increasing maturity or maybe just because I have seen how this plays out a time or two now, tonight I wisely enlisted the help of my sisters to keep me off my phone and I am forcing you to read my online ramblings - thus saving me the morning after mortification on both fronts. So my pride thanks you for your unwitting and unwilling participation. Also, my apologies to my mother - who is going to be less than thrilled to read about Wallace's drunk dial. Now, I am off to bed....as soon as I add more bread to my grocery list~