Flipping the bird at answers

For some reason lately, every time I got out for some hair of the dog, I wind up getting drunk, and partying like it’s September 10 2001. I often go out alone, looking for interesting randoms. When this happens, and we strike up a conversation, I lose myself in the moment and I don’t want to leave, I want to stay and continue learning about this person, and sharing something about myself – I enjoy the communion more than the beer or the dulling effect of being three-quarters pissed.

I worry about it though, because my New Year’s resolution was to develop my self-discipline, and refraining from getting pole-axed when I’m stressed, or distressed, or when it’s Friday and the clock strikes beer o’clock, is an important part of this.

But I’ve been pretty good lately, and I made three new friends this weekend, and reunited with a very dear old one – not bad for a shy, bumbling, socially awkward, self-conscious, introverted and reticent binge-alcoholic – and I’m now feeling abuzz with the possibility that the world is not full of cunts, which makes it very hard to concentrate on mundane life administration (such as how to replace alcohol with Dharma), but which makes it easy to spend Sunday evening thinking up ways and reasons to help make the world a better place (such as sharing this with you).

And meeting random young people at the pub is one of my favourite pastimes, and is the main reason I couldn’t give up drinking. Maybe it’s indicative of a significant social malaise, that some people need to be inebriated before their inhibitions are lowered far enough to allow new people in, and to allow themselves to reach over these inhibitions, to others.

It’s vaguely sad that our social skills have corroded to that extent, because socialising is one of our inherent needs, and mostly we suck at it,  but if something doesn’t work properly, and there is a workaround available, then maybe we just have to make do with that for a while, until we figure out how to really fix the problem – if, indeed, it is actually a problem.

It’s one thing to make the resolution to not drink so much, but it’s a whole other thing to be okay with reneging on that resolution once in a while. A way of being okay with this is to revel in the benefit of your lack of self restraint. This weekend I wouldn’t have met three new beautiful people, and reunited with another, if I hadn’t gone out for hair of the dog and then wound up dancing like a retard with a person who knows how to count steps.

Someone who thought about this a lot (maybe Buddha, but maybe not) said that everything should be taken in moderation, including moderation. So give yourself a break.