Was I born old?

Yesterday I went to an asado or barbecue, which is just another term for a reunion in which large pieces of cow are eaten and large quantities of beer are filtered (this because beer seems to not be able to rest inside you for a long time, you just act as a filter that keeps the alcohol inside and expells the rest).

This time, the cause of this reunion was to "celebrate" (?) five years of graduation from school. It was an "interrosca" affair, which means that people from all groupies was invited. The "interrosca" part of it, tough, lasted just until the greetings where done. I figured, If we were not able to let go of roscas during twelve years in school, we are not about to do it now.

Which such large quantities of all types of sprites, notably the ill fated aguardiente, soon enough I was shouting out loud in french and everybody was telling each other how good friends they where.

bullshit, the truth is that, after five years the bond that seemed to kkep us together is weakening and if you go every once in a while and try to keep alive with alcohol, it won't last anyway.

What I noticed, tough, was that I am less and less enjoying these sorts of rendezvous, where the main idea of the evening is to get drunk. I mean, being kind of drunk, just happy, is nice, but it doesn't last, and besides, for me the price is too high: I have to pay with a whole evening of feeling all dizzy and like if a hammer was pounding on my head, an entire morning lost in the hands of Morpheus and a whole day, if not two in uncomfortable numbness.

Maybe I worry too much, but I don't think that an hour of fun is worth paying another 48 of feeling like shit. And besides, I think vallenatos suck (all of them, except Carlos Vives, which is not strictly vallenato) and had to endure through a marathon of vallenatos in CDs, vallenatos played by a group and vallenatos played a capella, just like a chamber of medieval torture, but with a tropical twist.