The Morning After: I've Said (Far) Too Much

[Everyone’s got a morning after story (though some are WAY worse than others) and we wanna hear yours! Send it over to us and we’ll post it – anonymously, of course – right here!]
By now you’re almost half way through Winter Break. You’ve got the major holidays behind you- Christmas eve, Christmas day, New Year’s- and that means pretty much all scenarios involving getting drunk with your family have expired. How’d you do? Make it through with minimal blows to your self-respect, pride, and squeaky-clean image?
If you’re like me and live in a house of crazy, you hit the bottle. Hard. And so did your mother, father, nineteen year-old sister, great aunt, bizarre gay uncle, both grandparents, and that random cousin you think is hot (but he’s only like…a third cousin through a second marriage, so it’s okay).
I suppose this submission isn’t so much a “Morning After” as it is a “Week After,” because let me tell you, the occasions on which I embarrassed myself this holiday season were hardly contained to one evening. Sure I could pick one moment to elaborate on, like when my mother explained to her sisters that all the nice boys at school were so interested in me. Of course I had to open my mouth (full of wine-stained teeth) to correct her. The “nice boys” are only interested in one thing. And I just happen to do that one thing really, really well. Then, naturally, I thanked her for giving me so many popsicles as a kid because I sincerely believe that’s where I get my technique.
I could also tell you about how I referred to the lemon curd as “funky jizz” or told grandma she shouldn’t be having sex now that her hip is acting up. But those are mild slips of the drunk tongue.
I might enlighten you on how I cried as I held my baby nephew because, and I quote, “I just wanna baby! Men don’t want me, lesbians probably don’t want me. Should I adopt? No, no. They’ll say I’m a deadbeat mom in the making. And so I’ll end up forty and alone. Single. So single. And I can’t even have cats because I’m allergic! The cats don’t even love me! Ohmigod what am I going to do!?” But I won’t tell you about that because I was slurring and I might have spilled my wine onto the baby’s lap…and that just reflects poorly on me.
How about when I tried to make out with the aforementioned hot not-through-blood cousin? Yeah, you’re not getting that one out of me.
Needless to say, 2011 is welcoming me with AA meetings, family counseling, and a bevy of apology notes. Hope you fared at least a little better. Happy New Year!
[You think that’s bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]

Saturday Read: Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls
Saturday Read: Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls
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