Misadventures

My dad has been complaining lately that all I do is drink in Italy and that he didn't send me here to do that....Brian, please. I do other things too, sometimes.

Besides the plane ticket, which was free because I used my father's frequent flyer miles, I paid for this trip myself. I worked my ass off at the old people's lair and saved up, which is extremely hard to do when one suffers from an addiction to South Coast Plaza. So if I wanna get my drank on, I'm gonna get my drank on. Also, I can't just waltz into a bar in America and order 'Due Becks' whenever I feel like it because my I.D has the cursed age of nineteen on it. Also, I don't have to worry about getting behind the wheel here. Also, the expression 'When in Rome' comes to mind. I'm not in Rome, yet. But hell, I'm pretty damn close. I don't drink, like, all the time. I don't have a problem, I swear. I promise. I'm fine. Don't worry. No, seriously (I'm trying to come off as a raging alcoholic, does it work?).

I realize that almost every blog I've written has involved me drinking. Despite what it may seem like, I'm not sitting around gulping vino and doing body shots....besides, Sicilians are very hairy so that would not be a very pleasurable experience. Trust me, my travels in Italy involve a lot more substance and cultural experience than just substance abuse....Hmm, like, I would rather see the mosaics in an Islamic Gothic cathedral all jacked up on espresso rather than on beer. Plus, I would like to remember this trip.

But last night, a few problems were had. Cortney and I went to Casteldaccia (pronounced CAH-STILL-DATCH-A), a city near Altavilla Milicia, to a row of popular clubs. Cortney wanted a night without having to translate anything, so we decided it was best to go out by ourselves without a slew of her non-English speaking cousins accompanying us. She is sick and tired of going back and forth between languages.

Long Story Short:

Let's just say Lexi got a bit too tanked on two Mai Tai's and two Ceras, which are these crazy 7% beers that mess with the mind a little bit more than the regular strong ale. What was I thinking....Oh, I know. I wasn't. Cortney and I ended up getting in a fight and she walked in one direction and I in the other. I walked straight to the ocean, about 100 feet away, and decided it was the perfect time to go for a swim. I had figurative and literal liquid courage. Actually, I'll be honest...I fell in. Cortney realized she couldn't rightly leave me, so she called me and met me on the beach. We started yelling and making a scene and probably disrupted a few Italian couples who were making out near us. Apparently I told her, "CALL YOUR FUCKING UNCLE AND LEAVE MY SHIT OUTSIDE OF NONNA'S, I'LL GET IT IN THE MORNING". This is why I shouldn't drink. I was like this belligerent wailing drunk fighting machine. I was unstoppable. I realized I was wrong when I fell on some rocks and cut-up my knees. When I tried to get up, I fell in again...ass first. Cortney joked that if she hadn't have helped me out of the water, I would have been swept out to sea. Maybe not, I was only submerged in a little tide pool. The entire 'swim' was actually quite harmless, really. We solved our problem, and she practically picked my water-logged body up and we went on home. I woke up this morning with a killer hangover that no amount of pasta and bread could cure. Cortney and I dragged our ragged asses out of bed, put on a pot of coffee, and did a re-cap of the unfortunate night before. We still maintain our positions in the fight, but agree to disagree. I lost 20 euros last night. For fucks sake, never again.

Lesson learned, Dad. You were right. I, Alexis Delahaut, promise not to drink again....UNTIL TONIGHT WHEN I GO TO MY LAST SICILIAN DISCOTECA.

But on a more serious note: Drinking heavily in a foreign country always has some potential dangers to it. I could have avoided a lot of trouble in Tokyo if I hadn't have been wasted the whole time by myself. I will not be drinking like this in Rome. I have to keep a watchful eye on Cortney's fifteen year-old cousin and it would be so very irresponsible of me if I set a bad example to him. Plus, it's much easier to take advantage of him when he's drinking and I'm not (I'm only half joking).

But seriously Dad, I give you my written word that I will pace my drinks from now on. Even Lexi makes mistakes. I know this is a hard statement to grasp..... I really do some stupid shit sometimes. Sober too. More often than not.

Ciao, I spy a box of wine that I want to get at.