Wednesday, November 25, 2009


I always joke that I'm on a short leash. A very short leash.

Bedtime for me is around 9pm. I only drink alcohol once a week, more recently, it's been like once every couple of weeks. I avoid sugar. I read before bed. I take a long, hot shower. I don't dare turn on the television. All this to get a decent night's sleep. If I'm lucky.

My sister getting married was a major departure from my beloved and predictable leash. And I'm still paying the price of being "unleashed" for the long weekend. Here's how the leash came off, swiftly and without any regard to consequences:

Thursday night: Arrive Indy at 10:30pm. Gather bags and drive an hour to Columbus. Entire family congregates at midnight (my mom, my dad, stepmom, Alisa, Alec and mother-in-law) for a meal. At freakin' midnight! I go to bed with a stomachache.

Friday night: Dinner with friends and relatives. I have a glass of wine, some Chateaubriand (steak), lasagna, more Chateaubriand, and start to lap the dessert table. Have two of each of everything. There were four desserts. Yes, I indeed have eight desserts. And two cups of coffee. At 9pm, not decaf, because the bachelorette party is assembling and I need some pep.

Friday night, part 2: We're at the Columbus Bar. We order three rounds of kamicazes (I slip most of mine to a friend) and then order another two rounds of martinis. Then vodka shots. Again, I'm passing off most of my drinks. Then a platter of nachos. Loaded nachos. A plate of deep fried pickles. A basket of fried cheese balls. Two more platters of nachos. More pickles. Three more baskets of chesse balls. I'm right in the action, devouring the nachos like I hadn't just had steak, lasagna and eight desserts. EIGHT F-ING DESSERTS. We leave the bar at 2am and I'm doubled over in abdominal pain. I go to bed in fetal position, tossing and turning all night with nightmares of GI distress all through the wedding.

Saturday morning: Attempt a run in the park. Not happening.

Saturday night: Reception buffet. Who goes for seconds on the salmon? Who goes for seconds on the ice cream? Who has TWO pieces of cake? Who thinks that they are going to be admitted to the hospital at the end of the night? One redeeming fact: I didn't drink.

Sunday morning: We get up at 1am, Cali time, to make our 8am flight out of Indy. I am miserable. Jeans won't zip. Exhausted beyond belief. Snack all the way home since Delta no longer offers any kind of food service. Arrive home and finish up the weekend of gluttony by having three cookies and a chocolate bar.

Monday morning: Put my leash back on.

Tuesday morning: Took the leash back off to make cookies and eat four.

Wednesday morning: Leash stays off to eat cookies for breakfast and throughout the day. Sneak into the cornbread stuffing after class; oh yes, indeed, I am unleashed again.

Might as well keep it off now, seeing that Thanksgiving is tomorrow.

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