So since everybody found out anyway, there's no need to worry about my family finding out and getting mad at me... since that already happened. So I figure I may as well re-write this before I forget the entire story. maybe one day I'll look back at it and laugh.

Saturday, January 8th, 2005

We decided to go drinking... like basically every other weekend. no real party, just a chance to drink with a few friends, not to get loaded, but to have fun. well, I got beyond loaded. Probably something closer to being in need of medical attention. Because what I managed... wasn't safe.

It was me, a few friends, and a few people we didn't know.

a brought a flask of vodka, not much, I measured it at about 8.5 ounces. I can drink it and aside from smelling like vodka I can pretend I'm sober. but there was a problem, I wanted more than that on that particular night. One of my friend's brother had a 40 of vodka, so I asked if he minded if I refilled my flask, he's a generous guy, he let me take some.

after I finished that I probably should have stopped. I'm still a cheap drunk. but I didn't, I can pretend I'm sober from a few ounces, 17 ounces is a bit much.

by this time one friend who shall remain nameless was fucked off of the better part of a 26 of whiskey and passed out. like always. so he's not going anywhere on his own anymore, him and two others take a cab home, and I think another called for a ride. Also, Sean leaves his bigassed winter coat for me because I only have my light fleece jacket. so now it's just me and Kris getting ready to leave because I need a good walk by that time. then a couple more people walk in just as we're getting our shoes on. I remember they said something like "you guys don't have to leave yet, we're still hanging around for a while" that was all it took. I refilled the flask.

why of course we'll stay. there's more liquor to be had. turns out our nameless Ire left a quarter of his 26 still full. Kris and I made short work of it, I don't even like whiskey. not only that, but there's a guy with a 26 of Captain Morgan's.... and he's generous. either that or he just wanted to get me even more blitzed. it worked. shot after shot of rum goes down.

I'm told we all threw some money in and went to some after hours place and got another 26 of whiskey... but I don't remember it. I have a hard time believing they let me drink more.

somewhere along the line, more people showed up, Kris made me sit down (took away my "standing privileges" because every time I would stand up I would fall down and hurt myself. the people that came afterwards... I don't know. I seem to remember a blonde girl, and a dark haired girl, and a really bitchy one. I can picture their faces sometimes, but it's only a fleeting thing, I don't remember what they look like. just kind of like glimpses that go foggy.

I swear one of them works at the subway by the catholic church. but like I said, I can't remember their faces. I feel like I saw recognition in her eyes, but what am I going to say? "I'd like a meatball sub, onions, greenpeppers, tomato... and oh yeah, did I by any chance fuck your house up last winter?" not happening, thanks. akward doesn't begin to describe that one.

the rest of the night is bits and pieces, and what I've been told. I remember the girl who owned the house telling me "Do NOT throw up on the duvet cover" (which I was passing out on) naturally, I promised her I wouldn't. naturally, I threw up on the duvet. I'm also told I was out in the back yard breaking patio furniture. which to me, just sounds weird. would I actually go out and break patio furniture, even if I am blazed off of every kind of hard liquor? it's a mystery to me.

I think around there was our queue to leave. and leave we did, I'm told I was trying to put my foot in my backpack like it was a shoe. I don't remember it. but I remember being doubled over puking my ass off in the driveway. Funny, the things that stick with you.

So we're on our way home now, no cab. we figure we're both way too drunk. we need a walk, it may be like -25C with a foot of snow out but we need a walk bad. Well apparently I was way too drunk to walk with him, or way too drunk to know what was happening really. He says I "ran off," which worries me to this day (more on that in a few)

And then I woke up. No, no, it wasn't a dream. I never made it home. suddenly it's a bright sunny day, and a very, very cold day. I looked around, no glasses, I lost my glasses... again, I can't see anything. I can't even talk properly I'm so drunk still. so I walk. I'm in a field. since I can't tell what's three feet in front of me I just walk around the perimeter of the field until I find a way out.

Suddenly there's a building in front of me. I didn't care what it was. if it was a house I still would have just walked in. I've been outside for hours. so I go in, through two big white doors. kind of collapse on a bench. start taking off my stuff, trying to get the feeling back in my feet and hands.

I look around, there's kind of a singing/chanting voice going on somewhere... I'm in a church? then people start talking to me, asking me if I need an ambulance. course I can't even talk properly I'm still so drunk. They must have asked me 20 times if I needed an ambulance. I wouldn't let them call one. Then I clue in a bit. everybody talking to me is East Indian. Wow, I just walked into the Sikh temple. Culture shock much?

Here I am, sitting on a bench, in a temple, desperately trying to figure out how to get my socks off, just reeking like all forms of filth. and they're still kind enough to try to help me. this one white drunk boy, and a hundred East Indians who only want to help (they have no idea how grateful I am)

After a while, I warmed up a bit, they got me some tea, some little dessert candy thing that just tasted like and had a texture like sugar, and then one man brought me a space heater to sit by (for which I'm eternally grateful). I must have sat in that temple for about 45 minutes before I realized "wait... aren't there two temples? how far did I go?" So I asked that one question, that one goddamn question that lets every soul around you know you crammed a dangerous amount of fun and alcohol into a few hours: "Where am I?" and I remember the exact answer "You're in a church, on the North Shore" not the help I wanted. but at least I can't be more than an hour from home no matter which one I ended up at.

after answering a few questions (mostly "where have you been all night" to which I could only point and answer "out there") and pleading not to be sent to the hospital a few more times. I decide I've overstayed my welcome. Not that they weren't nice, but wow, I felt like an ass. That, and I was bound and determined to stay out of the emergency room if I had anything to say about it.

time to leave. so I gathered my shit, decided no way am I putting my socks back on, they were just soaked and still freezing cold, so I'm wearing freezing cold soaked shoes with no socks on now. stumble out of the church, into the parking lot, turn right, walk into a fence. smooth. the exit is the other way. finally find the exit, thank the man (I think) that got me the space heater. start walking down the road a bit. finally realize "YES, I'm still out by Norkam" then basically "NO.... I'm still... out by Norkam". I only made it two blocks from the house. the part that worries me the most is that I booked it across 4 lanes of traffic and didn't know it.

Which brings me back to another problem on this fine morning to be alive: crossing the street without my glasses. now, my eyes are bad. very bad. I can't see anything basically. finally, I get up the courage, look, hmm, doesn't look like anything's coming. start crossing, a big brown van goes by. oh yeah, I'm good. but I made it. 7-11 my savior. it's coffee time, and also just building with heat time. that was good too.

I remember the woman saying something like "well they must not be your friends if they just left you in the snow" when I told her why I looked so rough, I must have looked like a bag of shit (I didn't even know what happened at this point, all I knew is that I was out drinking and I woke up in a field in a foot of snow). but they are my friends, they will always be. I can't even find it in my heart to blame Kris.

Coffee in hand, it's time to move on. there was only one place I could think of going. two blocks away, to Sean's. my oasis in my desert of drunken idiocy. (that's right, I used to practically live at that house on the weekends) finally I make it to his house and see his grandpa sweeping snow off of his driveway. I tried to say something, but I know it didn't come out right (I still couldn't talk properly) until I finally managed something stupid like "Sean awake?"

I walk into the house, see the three of them sitting around the table. they thought I was sleeping at Kris's. They also then made me take a shower because I smelled like bad, just bad. got some new clothes, dry socks, passed out on his bedroom floor until 4pm.

finally I get up the courage to walk home and pretend nothing happened. which I kept up for about a month before they found out. I feel bad about keeping it a secret, but it was all I could do. They worry enough as it is, now my mom probably thinks every weekend may be a re-run of that one bad episode.


So that's basically the end of my drinking story, roughest night I've ever spent in my life. I'm lucky it wasn't the end of more than that.



I'm not sure if Sean knows it, and I don't know why he gave me his jacket on that one night, I've walked home plenty of cold nights wearing less. Somebody up there has got to be looking out for me I guess. he may have saved my life. I picked one of the coldest weeks that winter to fuck up.

I sometimes wonder if those East Indians wonder what happened to me. I'm so thankful for what they did, and I never really got to say that. I wanted to. every single day I wanted to, I still do. I was planning on going there that week to thank them, but never found the courage. what would I have said? who would I have said it to? I won't forget them and what they did, but I need to do more than that. they saved me.

I'm not the same person I was, I feel like a I got a second chance. sure maybe it wasn't a blatantly life or death situation. but what if I didn't have Sean's jacket? would I have died from exposure? would I have ever made it to the temple? would I have needed to go to the hospital? Would I have even made it far enough to act tough and refuse the ambulance? I doubt it.

I didn't vow never to drink again, I think I should have. but it would have been a lie anyway. I learned a lesson, I now know that fun is all well and good, when it's under control. I learned that maybe deep down I'm not a big fan of patio furniture. I was back at it the next weekend.

Though, haven't touched hard alcohol since January 8th.



But after-all, somebody once told me: "It's all about living, loving and learning"

I regret nothing.




July 1st, 2005, I had a shot of gin sometime around 1am. 6 hours later my car got rolled over into a ditch. (not even by me)


SON OF A BITCH I HAVE BAD LUCK WHEN I DRINK HARD LIQUOR