My name is Michael Rivera and I am a Filipino-Chinese, 18-year-old student living in Canterbury, but originally from Hong Kong. My parents divorced when I was two, and when I grew up, there were two sides of me: the wild, outdoorsy, gutsy side, and the conservative, intellectual, scholarly side. I spent two years living beside a beach in the countryside. It was then that I learned how to swim, how to fish and how to ride a bike. I love the outdoors, especially when having barbecues and hiking. Outside of that time, my more studious side of me reads, writes, and has a great interest in a broad range of subjects including: television and film, travel, anthropology, human cultures, linguistics, food and drink, psychology, philosophy, literature, forensics, Greco-Roman mythology, European history and politics, South American culture and geology. My deepest love goes to, well, my best friend. But the love that exists just a tiny fraction below that amount of love goes to television series, beautiful beaches, lime margaritas, and books considered classics.
Feel free to e-mail me if you have anything you want to share, suggest, criticize, inquire or comment on! :D
So, I guess you could say I'm a little bit tipsy. Just had one margarita, but mind you, that stuff is around 30%. I mean, I didn't calculate it properly. 30% just came to the top of my head, it was a guess, an estimate. We don't need to actually calculate it. I mean, we could. Hey, let's calculate it.
According to Wikipedia according to the International Bartenders Association, the standard ratio of a margarita is 7:4:3 for tequilla:Triple Sec:lime juice. Now, I had a 400ml clear plastic cup, so using the same ratio I just mentioned, and converting them into percentages (50%:29%:21%), we can therefore know that we would require 200.0ml of tequilla and 116.0ml of Triple Sec (and therefore 84.0ml of lime juice, by the way). As tequilla is 40% alcohol, that means 80.0ml of alcohol came from the tequilla. That's simple arithmetic. Duh. And as for the Triple Sec, it's 30% alcohol, so 34.8ml of alcohol came from the Triple Sec. (I calculated this in my head by rounding up 116.0ml to 120.0ml so the figures were easier, giving me an alcohol volume of 36.0ml, then I subtracted 30% of the difference that I added [which was 4.0 milliliters], which turned out to be 1.2ml, giving me the final alcohol content in milliliters as 34.8ml.) So if there is 80.0ml and 34.8ml of alcohol, there are 114.8ml, and just doing a quick calculation of 114.8 divided by 400ml, that is roughly 115/400 ml, which is roughly 23/80, which just trust me, is around 0.2875. (If you really want to know how I did that in my head, I basically multiplied both numbers by 1.25, since 80 times 1.25 is 100. This essentially gave me 28.75 when I multipled 23, so all I had to do is move the decimal place back two digits and that was it.) I am now proud to announce that what I drank was 28.75% alcohol. My initial guess of 30% wasn't that far off, was it? Isn't that neat?
You see, alcohol makes my mind run faster, my understanding of everything around me lucid. My perception may be a little bit impaired. I'm sure I wouldn't be able to taste or smell anything if it was pressed up against my face. I can't really feel my legs, but maybe it's because they're crossed. And my arms feel tired, I have no idea why. The only thing that hasn't changed is my level of visual perception. My eyesight is never affected, it's 20/20 vision all the time. As for my hearing, I can't hear a damn thing other than my music. I sure hope there aren't zombie lurking behind me, moaning and roaring at me. I wouldn't be able to smell them or hear them. I also hope that the whole building situated behind me isn't burning in flames. I don't think I would be able to smell or feel that either.
Music is a funny thing. People always ask me what kind of music I like, and I tell them 'Mainstream' is my thing. But I don't think that's what it is. I think I like songs which I know the lyrics to. Maybe because all my favorite songs just happen to be mainstream, that is why I know the lyrics to everything in my iPod. It's easier to practice as it plays in clubs and shops and stuff.
The title of this post is 'Alcohol, work and loud music go well together', because I know that once I've had some to drink, and once I've placed my earphones in my ears and turned up the music to the maximum volume, I become extremely efficient when I work. Alcohol works as some sort of fuel for me. They always say that alcohol doesn't change who you are, it reveals who you are. And perhaps the sober me doesn't like to do anything, doesn't like to work, to be proactive, to be lively, to be talkative, to be ranty. The sober me feels the need to act quiet, repressed, submissive, doesn't want to take chances, risks, initiative, action or a hold of his life.
Maybe the sober me will read this after the hangover and learn something. Good luck, Mike, living the way you do. If your way of living doesn't work out for you, you could always invite me back to be your substitute.
I've done this quite a few times in my life, and by golly, it's weird, exciting and nerve-racking all at the same time. It's even more distressing when it's in public, when you're not actually single (tsk tsk), when it's a member of the same sex, when you have to go to school the next day and face that person, when your mother sees you doing this, when you didn't actually know the person you were kissing wasn't that good-looking...
That didn't all happen last Friday night, but you get the picture - you can regret a spontaneous make-out session with a stranger. And I'm feeling that regret right now. I mean, when I woke up on Saturday morning, I could not believe what I had done.
Ah, well. It's all sorts of horrible now, but I'll be laughing about it soon enough. But for now, in my mind, I'm thinking... really, truly, SERIOUSLY, I'm not going to drink for a while, not until the 20th or so of May, when my examinations have passed. I do not need to be getting drunk and doing crazy stuff at this point.
Kissing a stranger... what were you thinking, Mike?...
Alcohol and I don't mix well. It brings me down (as a depressant should). Under the influence of alcohol, I'm just incapable of looking on the bright side of things. I'm unable to cheer people up, to give them good advice like I would if I were sober. After a few shots, my mind is just lost in confusion, my heart full of fear.
Someone yesterday told me that they saw a lot of sadness in my eyes. I worry about that because I don't think it's possible to tell if someone's sad by looking into their eyes.
I've been thinking a lot about who I want to be in the future. I've been thinking a lot about who I am now.
Going out drinking and clubbing and partying was never my thing. I always used to power through it, and force myself to drink a range of bitter tasting beverages. I don't know how to dance. I don't like how sweaty I get from bopping up and down after gulping down liters of beer. I don't like margaritas either, my allegedly favorite drink. I hate how vodka makes my throat feel dry. Tequilla and gin are no better. I dislike the taste of spirits mixed with anything. Olives are mushy and bland. And I am sick of picking at mixed nuts.
I've been cheating myself, and others, into thinking I do this sort of thing. I've been tricking myself for a long time.
And yesterday, after drinking a bit, I thought about what I want to be when I grow up.
And the one thing I don't want to grow up to be is my father, and if there's anything he's notorious for, it's his drinking habits. My experiences in the past three or four years have shown me that no good can come out of consuming alcohol. It has always, always depressed me, leaving me saddened at the end of the night.
So, as of today, I quit. I'm going to be sober, at least for a while. There will be no exceptions whatsoever, my birthday, my graduation, nothing. It won't be easy, and I'll need people to back me up on this and support me, because I now know a ton of people around me that have just begun to love drinking or already do. I just hope everyone can get behind me on this, and won't apply peer pressure on to me and make me break my self-promise.
Really, my head has had enough headaches, my throat has had enough of that toxic substance trickling through it. I hate it, and I've had enough.
I don't know what to say, because I don't know what happened. I just want to sleep my troubles away, like many people do, but I know I will have to face the consequences of my actions tonight.
However, I love the dancing, and some selected drinks.
I miss my best friend. I wish he was here right now.
He would know what to do.
I love him too much for my own good.
I've lost so much in the past few weeks. I want to look toward my parents and my class for some sort of light, some sort of guidance, because they are the people I'm obliged to be with.
On the other hand, they disappoint me, they hurt me, they piss me off.
Am I expecting too much? Am I too susceptible to insult? Am I too emotional?
Yes, yes and yes.
It doesn't matter.
It all doesn't matter because next year I won't even be here anymore.
I don't just mean in a physical sense.
My personality - I'm radically changing it when I go to university.
Even if you come back to me, even if you regret it, you won't find me there.
It's been around three hours since the drinking ended. I still have half the bottle of vodka in my schoolbag amongst my books and that, in itself, is just hilarious because I have alcohol, illegally purchased, consumed and possessed, in my room, at the end of my bed, amongst my studying material. I seriously need to shower because I smell like a tequilla factory and looking in the mirror, it is clear that the drunken escapade tonight that concludes this week of school has made me look like shit. Simply looking in the mirror now, my hair is all shaggy and glistens, presumably from the sweat as the alcohol warmed up my body. My cheeks are not red exactly, but they are redder, and my facial color is fuller rather than paler. At some angles, my eyebags seem to be wider and darker than they actually are. I just stuck out my tongue and I felt like gagging/throwing up. Probably not a good idea to do it again.
Yes, looking in the mirror. We all need to reflect on our own personalities every once in a while. If not, we'd just be very egotistic.
I don't know where I'm going with this, this post lacks direction, which I hate. But anyway, I had a good time tonight, I know I have two or three very good friends, at least, and I need to go to sleep now. I hope all of you are very happy too, and will find what you are looking for if you are, indeed, pursuing happiness. Don't feel bad, look on the brighter side of things, ask for help from those you trust if you're finding it difficult, and never, ever give up when searching for what makes you happy. It isn't that difficult if you really believe.
Guess who had alcohol once again? And it's only Day 3!
I wanted to take this wonderful opportunity to write a post because I often write the most splendid stuff when I'm under the influence. Let me just tell you about my drifty mode, because it's something very special to me and I love myself when I'm in that mode.
When I'm in my drifty mode, I talk very fluidly, flowingly, fluently, fluttery, floozy, flimsy, flaky and freely. My vocabulary is more vast and my thoughts are more lucid, yet deeper. I love the way my voice sounds. It's graceful and swift and it makes me feel good and (I'd like to think) others feel relaxed as a bonus. People don't see me drunk often enough. I really despise my sober self. He's more judgmental. He's more worrisome. He doesn't like to bond with others, yet he does at the same time. He thinks too much and he needs to learn to control his damn mouth because nobody wants to listen to those thoughts.
The drunk Michael... boy, I'm cool. It's like I'm mature and trustworthy but fun, free and natural about it all at the same time. Emotion at its best. You could just fall in love with him, want to be his best friend, proud to have him by your side drinking with you, being frolicsome and flirtatious, as well as puckish, in the playground. I should get drunk more often. Woo!
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