OK, CollegeMags, I’m back to write you about a topic near and dear to my heart: binge drinking.
The National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism defines binge drinking as “when men consume 5 or more drinks, and when women consume 4 or more drinks, in about 2 hours”. Now, I know exactly what you’re thinking. You’re thinking: Cripes, FutureMags! Those bitches at the National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism are really sexist.
And you’re right. I’ve consistently found them to be raging sexists in all of their studies I’ve read (note: I’ve only read the one sentence quoted above). But don’t even worry about those raging sexist bitches. If we were a part of one of their binge drinking studies, we’d totally blow their spot UP. REGARDLESS…
This letter should get to you circa Fall of sophomore year. Why? Well, because it is during this magical time that you become la reina de binge drinking (you also become double majored in Spanish. ole!). I’m still not completely sure why or how this happened, but it did. We, usually average at everything, become extraordinary at drinking till we black out multiple nights in a row while still maintaining enough dignity to get out of bed in the morning.
I think it all started the summer prior when we went on a beach vay-kay with high school friends and came back with a swollen tongue and a UTI. Ugh, I know, totally gross. But also very, very awesome. It means we were hardcore. And it sticks. You get back on campus and fucking tear shit up.
We’re talking pour multiple types of liquor into this juice concoction and chug type of shit. Pee your pants and keep partying type of shit. Waking up at 11am still kind of drunk, ordering Papa John’s, eating Papa Johns, passing out until 8pm and then drinking more of the juice/multiple liquor concoction type shit. HARDCORE SHIT.
Why am I wasting your time telling you this when you could be out actually doing it? Simple. I’m here to remind you to ENJOY this time. Live it up. Pee your pants as much as you can, because, alas, your hardcore binge drinking is a fleeting skill.
Eventually, you suffer a grave tragedy that renders you useless to the sport of binge drinking. What tragedy could be so horrific? Well, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you but…you get old.
Real old. Like mid to late twenties old.
I know, blasphemy! I can hardly believe it and I’m living it! You’re no longer la reina de binge drinking, you’re the queen of hangovers (also, you forget everything you learned as a Spanish major).
So just cherish these days of excess while you can, before you get super crazy old like me and hangovers last for 4 days and one bottle of wine puts you to sleep (alone) at 10pm and you drink three beers one night and the next morning have to call your mom who is sitting downstairs to go and buy you a hoagie because you just. can’t. move.
Deep breaths. Yes, this is scary. But, in all honesty, I think it’s better that you know. I hope the thought of your future self, all old and wrinkly at 26 sipping on a glass of Riesling and immediately passing out makes you grab that handle of Burnett’s Raspberry Vodka I know you have sitting in the mini-fridge and start chugging. I mean it. Right now. Go. Chug. Chug while you still can.