I've decided... (might be a little long)...
I'm trying very hard to hold off on alcohol until St. Patty's Day...
This past week has been terrible, Thursday night especially:
My ex and I broke up back in August, but we are still best friends. We hang out every weekend together and probably like two times during the week. Well, Tuesday night, he really made me mad and I kicked him out of my apartment for the night, Wednesday, we worked it out and acted like nothing ever happend. Well, Thursday, my best guy friend called me and told me he was taking me to a bar because he wanted us to get shitty and talk about all of our problems, so me, being the great friend I am, and showing him support, I agreed. (However, I didn't feel like I needed to talk, so I just listened to him.) I called my DD for the night and asked her to pick us up, she said no problem and she'd be there around 10:30. So, we go to El Sombrero and he orders us each a 46 oz. Margarita and we do a power hour (which was really only a power half-hour) We both downed our HUGE margarita. Then, he orders one more for us to split and two triple shots of patron for each of us. In 15 minutes, we'd taken our triple shot and downed another 23 oz. of margaritas. By then, I was feeling pretty good, considering I hadn't eaten anything but a bowl of cheerios for breakfast. So, El Sombrero closed and wouldn't serve us anymore so we go up to Loco's (next door). He orders us each a beer (Bud Heavy) and the wonderful bartender manages to talk him into buying us and her a shot. She takes a shot of Jack Daniels and we each take a double shot of 1800. After my shot, I pass out on the bar, SNORING!!! So, finally, Michelle, my best friend, shows up to take us home. She carries me out to the car, with the assistance of a 60-year-old man. She takes me home. Well, when I get home, I start crying that Clay and I had a fight (which happend on Tuesday and we had already worked everything out, as described above) and I need to talk to him. So, to shut me up, she takes me to his house. I barge into his house, where I find him with two other girls. I go straight to his room, crawl up in his bed and cover up. He walks in and says, "Tiffany, go home, you are drunk and you won't remember this tomorrow." I said, "I'm sober and I'll remember EVERYTHING, and WE NEED TO TALK!" He says, "No, you are going home." So, I get mad and try to stand up and fall back down. Then, I stumble out of his room, to the bar in his house (trying to find the door) and on top of the bar, there is a hammer. I accidently bumped it and my buddy Shane says, "Tiff, you might as well just knock it off the counter." So, I turn around and grab the hammer and chunk it across the room, where it hits silverware and some other miscellaneous things. Then, I stormed out of the house and slammed the door. I get back into Michelle's car and see Clay's (my ex) 4-Runner sitting there next to the house. So, as we're backing out of the driveway, I get out of the car and take off towards the 4-Runner. Michelle is yelling for me to get back in the car the whole time. I run up to the 4-Runner and punch the front glass as hard as I could. I cracked the glass and set off the alarm and then ran back and jumped in Michelle's car.
The next morning I woke up and looked at my call list and I noticed my hand was hurting pretty bad. I saw Clay's number on there. I called him and asked him if he called me and that's when I found out what I did. I don't remember anything about that night, at all. A lot more happend, but that's the main part. My problem is, when I start drinking, I don't know when to stop, so my plan is not to drink again until St. Patty's day.
= :idb: 
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Originally Posted by B16a2 Civic
Hope your hand gets better!
