Strugglebucket's First Hangover

I am a lightweight.

By this I mean that a single bottle of Mike's hard lemonade will have me sufficiently giggly, and two bottles will have me sufficiently giggly from the floor.

I hate the taste of beer, to the degree that the last time I trusted one of my friends enough to try a sip of "No, this is much better, it's [positive beer-adjective of some kind]," I spit it out so vehemently I almost fell off the roof.  So I mostly drink traditionally girly drinks (e.g. sex on the beach) or dessert drinks (e.g. black Russian).

Also I am one-quarter Japanese, which, while not enough to give me the classically Asian almond eyes and epicanthic fold that would visually legitimize my last name, is apparently plenty enough to give me the "Asian Glow."  After just half a bottle of Mike's, my face, neck and chest go BRIGHT PINK.

I really do know my limits, so I've never been fall-down drunk (though I was close at my best friend's bachelorette party, and since I was the one who threw it, I think that's fair), so waking up feeling like my head is trying to explode was a new and unpleasant experience.

But this time I hadn't been feeling well and hadn't really eaten anything, so two black Russians made by a heavy-handed barman were enough to make it difficult for me to stand up without having to immediately cling to the nearest person or piece of furniture.  Of course, at the time it was delightful because I was with a friend and was in that wonderfully giggly state where very little can actually bother me.

He drove me home and I poured out of the car and into bed, but I woke up the next morning thinking I was dead. My more hangover-savvy friends never gave any helpful description ("a really bad headache" just doesn't quite say it), but it turns out I can't do much better. So, simply put, hangovers are icky. I intend to never experience one again. It's like an ambulance ride: you only need to do it once, and then the expense is enough to warrant a careful avoidance of any future repeat performance/opportunities.

Did I tell you how the city once charged me $800 for an ambulance ride?

Blearglarghlargh. Never again.