You know you are getting old when you go to a Christmas party, get drunk, come home, have sex and still be fast asleep by 11:30 p.m.
We went to a "semi-formal" Christmas party this past Saturday. My plan was only to drink one Heineken and call it good, but some dear soul bought 3 bottles of wine and I thought it would have been rude not to share in a glass of spirits. Before I knew it, there were 3 half-full bottles of wine left and I thought it would be such a waste of money for this nice person to leave those bottles of wine on the table... so I did my part and tried my best to finish them off.
I don't think the true drunkenness of my being was apparent until the drive home when I drunk dialed 4 different people and made a naughty suggestion to my husband to pull the van over so we could have a little sumpin' sumpin' (he did not take me up on my request... something about driving on 495 in Washington D.C. He is such a prude.)
The amazing part is that I was up and showered in time for Mass Sunday morning. My Irish heritage has yet to let me down and I have the keen ability of getting happily tipsy and then not feeling an ounce of hangover the next morning. God must love Irish people most in this world.
I love the Holidays.