There are three things that make me swear:
1) MSU fans
2) past soccer games
3) stats 350.
We are gonna talk a bit about numero tre : )
I don't know why I just followed up that sentence with a smiley face, but I did. Stats 350 will be the death of me this semester, if I let it. And as of right now, I am allowing it.
First off, I have an exam in t-three days . . . aka: I should be studying my butt off. But I am so over studying already . . . just because it is all I did last week. Plus I just came back from a weekend of no homework and lots of relaxation, and I am soooo close to fall break, it isn't even funny. Who would feel like studying? Someone who wants an A, which I do. So I should really be studying . . .
Anyways,
Stats 350 actually brought up a great point today.
Our professor was discussing an example that we had displayed in our notes. The coordinator for the class, Gundersan, is a woman herself and chooses to use examples that degrade and put down the male species. Hey, I can't argue with her : ) Well my professor, who is not Gunderson, was discussing today one of her examples that showed statistics for the number of males in a random sample population that go behind the wheel after a few too many. It has been proven that this occurs more often in males, and it was made obvious in class today.
Venable (my professor) brought up that men sometimes make stupid decisions more often than women and that this was one of them. After a few snickers from the alpha dogs in the back and a few giggles from the girls along with nods, the room went silent. Venable then asked by a show of hands who all had done it before and naturally, there were way more males that had done it than females.
Now I'm not putting down guys in any way, shape, or form, but. . .
seriously guys?
I can remember in high school chatting about weekend plans with a friend from one of my chemistry classes. He talked about how he couldn't wait to go out and drink and then go drive and how fun it was.
Now lemme just say that I'm not putting him down in any way, shape, or form, but . . .
seriously, kid?
One Sunday afternoon, I was at a church picnic when an ambulance went screaming by. I thought nothing of it, accidents happen everyday, what are the chances that I know the person involved?
Pretty good, actually.
A friend from high school was simply leaving the house of a friend to take another friend home after a slumber party. She came up to 4-way intersection where cross-traffic stopped. As she continued to drive through the intersection as any other person would, a MALE driver sped through what should have been a stop for him and t-bone hit her at 55 mph.
That ambulance
was on it's way to her.
She was in a coma for two days, and they gave her 72 hours to respond to anything or they were going to pull the plug. Surprisingly, 24 hours later, she squeezed the hand of her mother.
It turns out Mr. Driver was leaving a house after having a ridiculous amount of alcohol among other illegal substances. He refused a breathalyzer and was well over the legal limit of .08. I don't remember what happened to him, but he should've gotten into a lot a lot a lot of trouble.
How about the mother who drove her her seven passenger van into a head on collision after downing eight shots of vodka and toking it up a bit?
Is it really that much more important, that much cooler, that much more convenient that one should get in a car after drinking?
What possesses people to think that they are capable of operating a machine that is worth $10,000 or more, carries priceless cargo, and can cause an irreversible consequence when they can't even walk straight?
I've worked in a bar for three years almost. I've seen people at their absolute worst when it comes to drinking. It's part of the reason why I am not a fan of drinking at all. I remember standing behind the bar one night and listening to a man brag up to his surrounding peers seated beside him about his amazing ability to drive while under the influence. He said this as they all sat and downed beer, after beer, after beer and then strutted out of the bar shortly after.
Now I'm not putting him down in any way, shape, or form, but. . .
seriously?
It took everything I had to not take his full glass of cheap-a Coors light and not throw it in the sink and tell him to get the eff out. I don't care that you've never been pulled over, or that you have and blown a legal limit. I don't care if you can make it look like you're perfectly sober while driving. I don't care if you're only going two blocks away. If you're stupid enough to drive after drinking, it's not you that I care about one bit. It's the other innocent, perfectly sober people who are out minding their own business that you hit because you thought the gas pedal was the brake, or that you never saw coming.
I care about the people who are in the wrong place and the wrong time. I care about the family of the person you hit and kill while you live and have to deal with the consequences.
I will never get in the car with someone who has had even one drink. I'll walk home, I'll call a cab, I'll call the cops to come and pick me up. But you had better bet that I will not place myself in a situation that is detrimental to my life as well as others.
That is one thing that held me back from drinking. I have always said I wouldn't start drinking in college, if I drank, it would be at home. There is nothing to do in that dinky little town I call home, which explains why so many of my peers felt the need to indulge in a form of fun in a bottle or two, or three, or six.
I've grown up a lot since high school. In high school, I rarely associated myself with my peers who spent their weekends passed out on the basement floor of the party house in town, who stumbled down roads and hills, waking up with cuts that they have no idea where they came from. I never even knew about half of these things, I was so oblivious and in denial. I had no urge to participate in these "fun and crazy" weekends. I was afraid that if I did, I might finally give in and indulge myself.
I knew college would be a much harder task than high school, after all, everyone drinks. I held true to my word. I didn't allow one bottle, one beer, one sip to touch my lips my entire freshman year. It was one of my proudest moments going to a frat party where I had a friend who would have shoved beer down my throat had I opened my mouth wide enough. It was the greatest thing to sit and disappoint him every Saturday night, telling him I would not be drinking that evening, or the next weekend, or the following.
I went home this past summer and it was the hardest thing to deny my good friends from high school who had jumped on the "fun and crazy" bandwagon, or simply continued their weekend rituals involving obscene amounts of liquor, beer, and ciggs. One of the sole excuses I had every time I joined them for a night in, or out, was that I had to drive. I found myself offering to drive anywhere so that I could use that as an excuse to not drink. It is honestly, the one thing that really saved me this summer from making stupid, irresponsible mistakes that could have not been taken back.
I originally wrote this post with a looooot more included but I feel this is enough and I got most of my point across.
Perhaps someday I will understand why I have these feelings towards drinking. I mean sure, I can narrow down what has truly influenced my feelings in this particular subject but I'm sure there is something else that really gets me about it all. I don't judge others for their choice of actions, after all, it is essentially their choice.
But I do judge those who make irrational and irresponsible decisions such as getting behind the wheel, drinking beyond their limit, or pressuring someone else to do something.
It's those who I feel sorry for. The people who feel they have to live up to this standard that everyone else is . . .
drinking isn't all that it's cracked up to be. You really can have fun without it, you just have to have the right people.
