Lucky: Hall Pass

I can't stop thinking about it. It pervades my every waking thought. It lingers in my brain long before and long after the thought has been thought, the word has been spoken, the deed has been done. It's tinged with shades of excitement, blots of anticipation, hues of trepidation.

I get to use my hall pass this weekend.

It's my cousin's 30th birthday at Double Bay and I am going, with the intent of drinking. Ok, that sound wrong. I am going with the intent of celebrating.
But then it got me thinking even more - why do I need to drink to celebrate?
Can't I be happy and funny sipping an orange juice while everyone else feels the warm buzz of inebriation?

The answer, very simply, is NO. No. Why? Because I'm socially retarded and I flounder without the safety net of alcohol and the bravado it provides.
I am not skilled in the art of small talk. I loathe idle chit chat that stretches beyond the time it takes the lift to get from level 1 to level 8. I reserve the right to reserve my conversation for those who will appreciate it.

However, although I may not like to discuss the weather with you, after a few drinks, I'm your new best friend. The one you add on Facebook straight away. The one you have just one more with. Because I'm fabulous when I'm on the piss. I have many a witness that will attest to this, judging by the amount of phone numbers in my phone that only have one name, possibly suceeded by the words coke, teagardens, or penis.

So it is still up in the air or not whether I use this Hall Pass this weekend. For me to go to a party, knowing full well I can drink, and then choosing not to - well that really is a gigantic, earth shifting, man on the moon type step in the right direction.

Nathan has been getting quite morose lately, especially about the fact that we are going through the 5 stages of giving up something, and we are currently at the stage of depression. Its not so much that we miss that booze to the point of depression, it's the realisation that us going through these stages means there was a problem in the first place. Recovering alcoholics (read: teetotallers) before we both turn 30? Tick.

I've not been as morose as Nathan - possibly because all I can think about is my Hall Pass. Will I use it? I don't know yet.

Should I give it to Nathan? This way I can sit smugly atop my high horse knowing out there, I helped someone in need. 

Pass me a tissue, I'm getting nosebleeds.