Sometimes we float through life, letting it take us on a ride. Sometimes we indulge, the standard; chocolate, clothes, shoes etc. Then sometimes we take it that one step further and go into what is known as the over-indulgence zone.
Indulgence – A word that gets bandied about with thoughts of doing things you wouldn’t normally do, but apparently deserve.
Over-indulgence – Way, way too much of a good thing. But, you always inevitably go back for more.
After a summer’s research during a seemingly carefree lifestyle and a series of events to attend, I reached an epiphany. There are times when it is completely Ok to over-indulge.
Christmas – Supermarkets and shops are raided in the lead up to one day of ripping, scoffing and stuffing. Presents are wrapped only to be torn open in a shark feeding frenzy, and food is lovingly but stressfully prepared as it is devoured and belt buckles are casually undone. Not to mention the previous evening’s piss-up at the local where everyone congregates to catch up on whose married, had babies, divorced, gotten fat, and the singles seemingly try their drunken luck at possibly getting in the pants of their old high school crush.
Easter – Yet another religious holiday that a predominately secular society celebrates by gaining new members to over-eaters anonymous. You lie amidst a scattered foil wrapper pile that needs raking up, with chocolate crumbs smeared on your face, in your clothes and on the floor. You vow never to eat so much chocolate again, until a year later when you have forgotten the whole beached whale scenario. And yet again, a four day weekend apparently allows you to accidently drink the whole weekend’s supply of alcohol during the first night, and inevitably wrestling on the freshly mown grass at 1am accompanied with a symphony of hysterical laughter.
New Years Eve – The hype, the suspense, the eve of seeing the New Year in. Queues line the liquor store counters as thirsty patrons prepare for a night of intoxication, crazy dance moves, ridiculous behaviour, and hooking up. But don’t worry, it’s all justified because it’s New Year’s. Apparently there’s nothing to regret because everyone else is in the same boat as you.
Weddings – Gone are the days of a virginal bride justifiably wearing a white gown walking down the aisle in a cute little church. Weddings I have recently discovered are just an excuse to get together with friends you should’ve kept in touch with more often, to drink copious amounts of wine, carve up the dance floor, and for singles to check out new pieces of rump steak in the meat section. Not to mention the pre-party fest in the form of ‘there’s no such thing as inappropriate’ stag and hen’s dos.
Birthdays – Celebrating turning another year older can result in parties, cake over-doses, and general merriment with a topped up glass in your hand. This becomes a pinnacle of partydom when you reach a milestone, whether it is 5, 30, or 75. The food is instantly allowed to be high in fats, sugar and food colouring. And the drinks are liberally poured, just to celebrate you and all of your glory.
St Patricks Day – The Irish are known for drinking, potatoes and leprechauns. So why not honour the patron saint who was actually English, by pretending to like Guinness and claiming ancestry from the Emerald Isle. Not just a pint or two, but getting up in the morning and instead of going to work, parking up at your local Molly O’Somethings for the whole day. And all is forgiven, with a bit of luck of the Irish.
The Sevens – A weekend of costumes, mayhem, and enough liquor for your liver to hoist a protest sign from out of the crevice where the sun don’t shine to announce it’s on strike. Messy comes to mind, but so does pure awesomeness and at least a week of recovery. Drawing blanks from your Sevens experience? Don’t worry; I’m sure the Robin Hood guy from the 2008 Hong Kong Sevens who was posing for a photo and fell back only to end up straddling a stadium seat is actually now shooting blanks. Even though he’d been raising his glass to his lips all day, he still winced and keeled over. But quickly bounced back with full recovery, that only good brain cell zapping and body numbing alc can provide.
Orientation Week – Parents of precious first year university students, please avert your eyes. O Week was a real eye opener, wallet opener, and leg opener (not me of course, I was a good girl). At the start of the week you had freedom and a pocket full of hard earned summer cash. By the end of the week, the wallet was empty but you had a whole new bunch of friends who you shared some crazy experiences with. It is the ultimate week in over indulgence. Wake up after lunch, eat, drink, party, sleep. Rinse and repeat. If you feel like you’ve missed out, just spend a weekend in Las Vegas.
I’ve also noticed that when the supermarkets and liquor stores have to close for a public holiday, this sends people into the end is nigh stock-up of trolleys, on the previous day before. Apparently we cannot handle living without the option to shop for groceries or booze on any given day, and immediately hit the shiny red panic button in our brains, as we quickly forget that the shops will be open again the following day. God forbid we do run out of one thing, and either starve to death or drive to the dairy which we begrudgingly do because the cream costs 50 cents more.
Sometimes people like a blow out once in a while. For me, whenever I tell myself that I will only have a couple of wines I end up with a ridiculous Facebook status update the next day and share a ‘what just happened?’ summary of events with friends who joined me for that ride.
Over-indulgence seems to reign supreme accompanied with good memories and a few stories to tell. I like to over-indulge once in a while, but I never over over –indulge. Because then it would simply not have the power of awesomeness that it holds. After all sometimes you can have too much of a good thing.