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Meet the Parents

You know you have a grade A, top of the line, can't be replaced, state of the art boyfriend when he gets you drunk to meet his parents.
Here I am, all innocent and basking in the fact I just turned in my 60 page paper and that I got an A on my other ten page research paper. The day was good, it was sunny, I didn't train, I took a community nap with B.
I got up, I showered, I visited miss Kelsey, and I started getting ready to go to my first Sox game...and to meet the boyfriend's parents. This is a big day in a relationship, if the parents don't like you, it's all downhill from there. Your relationship and pretty much life is shot to hell. So of course I give myself a little pep talk which may or may not have involved the words, "just don't fuck it up!" and put on my interview, not dancing, shoes.
Because we can't go more than about twenty minutes without seeing each other, of course Chris came over before the game.
Chris and I have two huge things in common that we love - Triathlon training and alcohol. Especially good alcohol. Since I'm out of Triathlons for about another week, what else do we resort to other than alcohol? And how easy was it to convince me to take celebratory shots?
A 2 word text that said: "Celebratory Shots!"
He knows how to get me every time.,.And before I know it, I'm throwing back my fourth - damnit Chris!
So we leave the dorms and I feel completely fine, I'm not exactly the lightest of the light weights, but I'm in a medium range - it also depends on the day; sometimes I just open the bottle and I'm already on the floor, but I've been known to take 7 shots and be completely sober <-- those are always the worst nights. (PS. I can't believe I just used a semi-colon in my blog. I think this is a sign I'm growing up.)
Anyway, lately my body and I have had a couple disagreements, so I think it's in revolt. By the time we got the lobby I was giggling uncontrollably and walking on a slight angle.
Oh and thinking, SHIT SHIT SHIT!
Chris thought it was hilarious, obviously. I think he loves to see me make an ass of myself.
So we're walking and I'm laughing and trying to stay straight so I can meet Chris' dad, who, by the way, is in the military. I've never met a guy actually in the military who isn't grandpa, so I'm standing there on edge expecting at any second for him to scream DROP AND GIVE ME 20.
So I meet his sister and dad, and I'm thinking okay Katie do not laugh at that, that wasn't funny. You are swaying. Stop swaying. Wipe that dumbass smile off your face. Great you just slurred your words, now what? They think you have down syndrome. Okay well at least Chris is with you.
Oh wait, no, Chris just left you. Alone. WIth his dad and sister. And you're tipsy...and it's only getting worse.
At this point there's nothing I can do, because the tingling limbs had already set it and I swear those cars were coming out of NOWHERE. What the HELL kind of alcohol did I drink!?
That was literally the longest ten minutes of my life. I think he went up, chatted with the guard, gave the rest of the family a tour, took a shower, stared at the wall for a bit...because literally, I was standing there forever.
But once he got back all was well again and I was able to mask it, actually I don't even think they noticed at all. I'm hoping they just thought I was a naturally very giggly person...with a speech impediment.
I'm pretty sure I said "like" a billion and a half times, too. Awesome.
At least this isn't as bad as the time I went to my academic advising meeting freshman drunk off Long Island ice tea at 9 am...I couldn't think of the word "Public Relations" so I said, "That field where you uh....relate to the public..." instead. I'm sure he had NO idea I was under any sort of influence, especially when I missed reaching for the door and slurred a good bye. I think he was a little bit more than mildly entertained when I came back a couple months later and said I wanted to be a doctor - but I was sober that time.
Over all the family thing when down great, his family reminds me a lot of mine...except my mom is a carbon copy of me x's 100 on some sort of energy pill. And I doubt his family gets drunk together on New Years and has Kereoke Dance parties...or gun shooting contests in the backyard...and I don't think his dad skins deer in the basement. But I'm glad that's just my little situation, because the world could never handle two Weller families.


love love love,
me

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