Discovery Channel

My room is such a ridiculous mess. I've got a nice chutney (trying to be poetic here!) of clothes/papers/folders/overdue library books/flyers/invitations/handbags/shoes/makeup.....yup pretty much all of that, strewn around my room. Sigh. Massive clean-up operation needed, but hey as you know, I'm the queen of procastination. So :)
Ah, Danielle and Sarah are going off to wine-tasting in the orangery, but me being the hardworking, committed law student have my intriguing constitutional rights tutorial to attend to. Or not.
I had an interesting idea for a blog today. Well, not really that interesting, but hey perhaps could evoke some form of interest to someone, anyone? No. Okay, in that case, it's just me rambling to no one in particular. Ah been there, done that, so I should be alright. Lol...now what was I saying?

Memory Gaps
Due to my rather eventful (!?) night on Friday at the ball, I spent the last few days reflecting on something, I know many of us have experienced at some point in their lives. Let me expand.
You wake up one morning, you stumble out of bed. The room spins. Bag, shoes are strewn all over the floor, your make-up is still on. What happened? The last you remember clearly is taking a taxi down to (insert appropriate bar/club/party here), having a drink with your mates. Was it one drink? two, three, four?
Oh dear.
You nurse your hangover, and when fully recovered, venture into the outside world. You bump into a friend. 'Mate, you were wrecked last night.' You get a text. 'Had an awesome night last night.'
Double oh dear.
Drunken escapades are intriguing. You don't actually experience them yourself do you. When you've got that much alcohol in your system, your brain goes crazy. It makes you do, say stupid things. Your guard is let down, and your true self is exposed. I'm a firm believer that when you're drunk, the truth comes out. Because when you're drunk, you don't have that social guard you defend yourself with. So when someone professes their undying love to you at the next party, they might actually mean it. Or not :). Lol I remember TJ professing his undying love to about 20 random girls at the Christmas Ball.
So when do you know, if what you're doing (or did) after a few glasses of wine, is what you really want to do? Is your conscience trying to tell you something? But then, what of beer goggles? Someone you would not normally find attractive suddenly becomes the hottest thing in a 15 mile radius. Is that your conscience telling you that you had an unknown fancy towards them? Or is it just the hormones talking? Probably the latter.
I'm sure there must be some sort of scientific explanation to this. But since I'm no scientist, I will not venture into unknown pastures.
I think that perhaps it is our emotions that become magnified. In some ways, when you're 'under the influence', your emotions are blown to a larger than life proportion. You're friendlier, more outgoing, more attractive, more everything. Even down to being more vulnerable. A friend of mine broke up with her boyfriend when very drunk. And looking back, there was really no neccessity. She still remembers being very angry. But her anger was somewhat disproportionate to the offence. So perhaps it then boils down to disproportionation. You feel disproportionately. Your brain is distorted so much that, you think you're feeling something your not. Methinks that somewhere along the synapses, signals get exchanged, or lost.

You and me baby, ain't nothing but mammals.
I digress. Is 'I was too drunk to remember' really a valid excuse. Assuming, that our behaviour when drunk is a magnification of our feelings when sober, then it is really a lame excuse. But then, having been-there-done-that, I beg to differ. A group of people who are very close friends of mine, engage in rather incestuous relations when under the influence. And really, I doubt it would have very much to do with emotions. So, is it all about the hormones?
If so, then we're really not very human aren't we. I remember the analogies drawn by Tennessee Williams, in A Streetcar Named Desire, when he portrayed Stanley and Blanche as animals in the rape scene. Wild animals, primates, is that who we really are? Essentially, we are stripped of culture, social know-how and etiquette when drunk aren't we? Hell, just last week I heard of how a well-reknowned barrister getting very very pissed at a formal occasion and making a complete fool of himself.
It feels horribly insecure when you strip yourself of what you regard as your self-dignity. But really it boils down to us just being warm-blooded mammals doesn't it? And just the other day I heard someone say 'Oh, I wasn't drinking so I didn't have as much fun.' Crikey, what of the world today? Our lives appear to be so alcohol-dependent to have a good time.
But no, don't lose faith. Our little flat outing on a sunny Sunday afternoon to Chew Lake renewed my faith at least. A good time doesn't need alcohol. Surely not. Don't get me wrong, I love my G&T, but hey surrounding yourself with people you care about, sharing laughter and memories is as strong a head rush as that bubbly from last night.
:)
Yup, so let's do it like they do on the discovery channel, quoting wisdom of the bloodhoung gang ofcourse.