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MY BLUE ROOM
Alcoholics Anonymous

By Meg R (caitlin_01109@yahoo.com)

I didn’t start drinking until I was 22. I used to get woozy with just two bottles of beer. But, practice makes perfect, ‘coz I moved on to three, four, five, until I could down six bottles and still sing and dance my heart out.

I didn’t find anything wrong with that, because in my carefree perspective that still fell under the category of social drinking. Nevertheless, my college friends, who learned of this recently acquired drinking habit of mine, laughingly took to calling me alcoholic anonymous.

But believe it or not, if orange juice had the same "amats" as beer (or any other liquor, for that matter), I would gladly go for orange juice. I don’t even like the taste of beer. What I actually appreciate about alcohol is the way it loosens your inhibitions; whereas in a sober state you’d actually feel self-conscious in a dance floor or in a videoke bar, in a drunken haze you’d sing and dance as if you’re giving out the best performance of your life.

There’s also the challenge of trying to prove to yourself that you’re still very much aware of what you’re doing, even if other people could clearly see you’re stinkin’ drunk. But perhaps the most amazing thing about being drunk is that you get to be "mababaw" (shallow-minded). The littlest things could make you roar with laughter, or bawl like a baby.

I don’t know if this has any merit, but a friend once e-mailed me excerpts from an article which basically advocates that alcohol actually contributes to the productivity of the workforce.

The article used natural selection as an analogy to describe how alcohol destroys the weaker brain cells, and so in turn, only the strong brain cells remain and multiply into even stronger brain cells. It went on to say how single employees who regularly engage in TGIF drinking sprees were found to be more productive than their married counterparts who choose to refrain from drinking. I gamely emailed it to my drinking buddies, with a note that read, "Now who has the last laugh?"

My mom knows I drink, but I think she would rather not know the rest of it. She doesn’t approve of it, but she has yet to come right out and actually forbid me to do so; probably one of the leeways she gives me as an adult.

Every once in a while she reminds me of the dangers of getting drunk. I just laughed off her worries, thinking I wouldn’t ever find myself in such situation.

I was wrong.

The night of our company outing I had one shot of brandy too many, plus several cans of beer. I was practically out of control -- I danced around the room like crazy, my officemates catcalls egging me on. My friends who were there tried several times to make me stop, but all I heard were the loud music and my officemates' "woo-woo-woo’s".

In a drunken stupor I even thought my friends were acting kinda weird: "Why are they frowning with disapproval when all I was doing was my usual dance number?" my thought balloon read.

As to what finally convinced me to let my friends take me to my room, I’ve no idea. I fell in a drunken heap in my bed. They were to tell me the following morning what a scene I made. That they dread to think what our officemates must think of me after the episode: I was acting like a GRO that night, they said.

Every word they said hit with unerring accuracy, right where it hurt the most. But I was not in a position to stop them, because everything they said was painfully true. How I hated myself then!

I stewed about what happened the whole weekend, and, blessedly, by Monday, I knew what I had to do.

First, I forgave myself. I knew that whatever else I may decide to do in the future, I ought to begin by being in good terms with myself.

Then I made myself an iron-clad promise to give up drinking altogether. I knew I broke several promises in the past, but somehow, I know without a doubt that I am definitely gonna keep this one, even if my life depended on it.

Of course, people, specially my best friends -- dear friends thought they are -- may just sneer at me. And I know I can't very well blame them. I just hope time may redeem me in their eyes someday.

As of this writing, I've yet to touch a bottle.

ISSUE 17 MAY - JUNE 2000
I S S N   0119-7088

Caught in the Net
Assaulted Online
by Angela Giles Klocke

Men, Relationships and the Internet
by Brett Krkosska

Netbytes
The Top Net News In May

Newbie 101
Are You In A Communication Rut Or Are You Getting Your Message Across?
by Shery Ma Belle Arrieta

Web Tips
by Deborah Anderson

Netspeak
How To Sell Your Website or Domain Name For Big Money
by Kevin Nunley

Is Your Domain Name A Trademark Infringement?
by Shelley Lowery

The Importance of Having Your Own Domain Name
by Sumantra Roy

My Blue Room
Alcoholics Anonymous
by Meg R

Virgin
by S

The Dollar Stretcher
Secrets Save 25% on Groceries
by Gary Foreman

Pay Yourself First
by Gary Foreman

This Month's Secret Assets
Angela Giles Klocke
Colleen Moulding
Deborah Anderson
Kevin Nunley
Shelley Lowery
Sumantra Roy
Meg R
Brett Krkosska
Gary Foreman
Shery Ma Belle Arrieta

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