KAMA with a MOKSHA hangover

Hello, my name is Greta, and I drank too much last night. The realization dawned on me in many ways: 1) when I ordered a second... (third) shot of Patron, 2) when I was telling the bartender about the first guy I had a crush on in high school, 3) when I checked the text messages I sent, and 4) oh, when I woke up to searing pain in my head.

Last night started out in the usual way: I got ready, put on my coat, put my "Hardcore Rap mix" on my ipod and walked to the L to meet two friends for dinner. Just your typical Saturday night. On the way back from dinner, I had big plans to watch TV, read a magazine or make some popcorn and troll the internet for shoes and purses I can't afford. Again, pretty typical.

However, something changed all this - something small and seemingly insignificant: A text message with the words "If you are still out, we are too..." and BAM, like Batman to the Batmobile, I was headed to a bar.

Some of you have had the distinct pleasure of experiencing a night out with me. Holla! I'm not sure if it's the Irish heritage or the Catholic upbringing, but for whatever reason I am quite skilled at drinking. And last night was no exception - I drank like a champ.

And it was indeed a lot of fun. I hung out with my cousins, who are the best versions of friends I could have dreamt up. And we made many new friends: Alec from Macedonia, Sung, and Bald Ben. Friendships that will last a lifetime.

However, I woke up this morning with the distinct feeling that this drinking like a champion business has its downsides. One major one being that I felt awful and couldn't seem to get off the couch to get anything done. And I like getting stuff done. I'm actually pretty good at it. There is a whole world of possibilities for the day, including yoga classes, reading, or having basic contact with other humans. Yet, there I sat, feeling too zapped to do any of it.

After a lot of gatorade and a pep talk from a friend who told me to shut up, put on some clothes and go outside, I made it to yoga class. (Everyone needs a Courtney in their lives)

As I lay in supta baddha konasana (which roughly translates to "bottoms of feet together, legs splayed"), I was feeling pretty down about myself. Then the yoga teacher began by setting an intention for the class: try not to be perfect. Work on accepting the positive AND negative parts of yourself because all these parts work together to make you who you are - and without both, you are not a whole person.

You know, that's a good goal. One I could work on. Self-acceptance at the present moment; the good and the bad. Because all that stuff is me. Sometimes I drink too much and send embarrassing text messages. Sometimes I smoke cigarettes and forget to take care of myself. So there are some negative parts I would like to banish, but I do make sure to floss and I'm a good listener. I make it to yoga class and I recycle. I'm a kind person and I'm working on accepting the rest.