While those days were fun, I felt like I was in a constant state of sadness. Something was always missing, and no matter how many guys were blowing up my phone, the fact that all of them were douche bags who basically wanted one thing wasn't exactly enough to fill that void in my life. I used to be so emotionally hungover after every party, I don't know why I continued to party like three-four times a week. You know the feeling; it's the feeling you get when you wake up to the messiest kitchen you've ever seen, and it is in your house so you're the one who will be emptying those beer cans and scrubbing wine stains off the counter tops. When you know that the thrill of wearing that sexy dress last night hasn't gotten you any closer to happiness or having a sustainable boyfriend who loves you, with or without that sexy dress, and once again you're alone... alone, sad, left with a mess, and a mean hangover. I remember one sunday in particular, my two best friends and I woke up hungover and perhaps even more emotionally hungover. One of us put on 'Man in the Mirror' by MJ, and we mustered the strength to scrub the kitchen. Later that day, one of my best friends and I, still being severely emotionally hungover, swilled a couple cans of bud light (one of the only times I have consumed beer... don't judge, it was all that was left over from the night before) and listened to Jeff Buckley. I'm pretty sure it ended with me crying when "I Know it's Over" came on, and I proceeded to throw an empty beer can on the floor, before I was forced to pull my shit together and go to play practice. Even though that is a fond memory now that it is safely behind me, at the time that feeling definitely ranks right up there with the top five shittiest feelings I've ever felt and in my more mature mind, I am able to reason that that is a feeling I never want to feel ever again, and thusly, will take all precautions required to avoid said feeling in the future.
I didn't even feel bad standing there like a creep tonight. Someone had to check in on those kids to make sure that the fire wasn't getting out of control or there weren't any acts of violence occurring. I feel like such a pussy sometimes, but I honestly don't like drinking anymore. The occasional glass of wine or two is nice, or like, a couple flutes of champagne... maybe a cosmo or two, or a mimosa...but nothing extreme. It seems that the last couple of times I've been hungover, I not only felt physically on the verge of death, but my emotional hungover was pretty nasty as well... you know you're in a sad state of affairs when you cry because your bf can't talk because he is at work. And even though you know he is at work, you're just so sad with the hungover blues you HAVE to talk to him RIGHT NOW. THAT is reason enough never to let myself get to that state of emo hangover ever again. Ew. Or when you can't eat at all for the first 3/4 of the day, and even drinking water makes you nauseous... but by the time 5pm rolls around, you're bingeing on anything microwaveable, out of a can, or carb-heavy. Day's like those remind me why I prefer to not be hungover at all.
I digress however. As I was standing in the woods, completely sober amongst a sea of around 60 or so youths (yeah, I told you this party was out of control...wtf goes on?), I was so happy I was not one of them. I was so happy to be an outsider looking in for once in my life, knowing full well that if they knew what I know now, they probably wouldn't be drinking beer around a fire in the woods trying to flirt with anyone willing to flirt back and trying to look cool. I saw some chick wearing what can only be described as an outfit one might wear to a day-glo party; neon pink sports bra with some tattered, side-less white tee with day-glo graffiti all over it... to her, I say "wtf." Get over yourself and your fucking sloppy side tattoo. Clearly, it isn't nice to pick on others or devalue them based on what they chose to wear (I had to remind myself of the time I wore fishnets and a bodysuit... but in my defense, it was my apartment and it was a 'floozy' themed party), so I had to bite my tongue. I hate seeing PDA too... shit makes my blood boil; I am sorry if I ever made out with anyone in a public space (yes, I am guilty).... I wish there was a way to repent for social sins. haha.
There is another thing I don't miss about going to parties- the dilemma of whether to crash there or go home. Sure, if you've been drinking you should obviously stay the night. However, there always came a point where you were sure you were sober enough, and all you wanted was to go home, wash your stale makeup off with some decent face wash, brush your teeth, down your own water along with two advil liqui-gels and pass out in the comfort and familiarity of your own bed. Nothing is worse than waking up hungover with day-old make up on another person's couch... NOTHING. That is almost worse than the hangover itself; waking up with day-old makeup on and a sore neck from sleeping without an adequate pillow... shudder. Or going to bed without brushing your teeth ( I know it's gross, but don't lie, we've all been there) and laying on someone's nasty couch feeling the sugar from the alcohol eating a way at your enamel.... AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhh!!!!!!!! No wonder so many people drive home drunk!!!... I kid, I kid... (but not really). At least now that two glasses of wine spaced out over the course of three hours is enough to satiate my thirst, I know that I can go an additional two hours without drinking and be perfectly fine to drive home when all is said and done, without the fear of having to sleep in something less than comfortable, and on someone's nasty ass, college couch.
In other news (I just realized this is how I often end my posts, lol), I finally heard back from a couple of the places that I applied to in the city. I had an interview with Urban Outfitters this past Friday and am patiently waiting to hear back (they said by the end of this week!) and also have scheduled a phone interview with someone from Anthropologie who wants to discuss some available job opportunities in Manhattan. I'm not getting my hopes up, because when I do that, they're always shot down. So I am taking this for what it is worth, interview experience, and motivation to keep applying. It will just be so fucking nice to wear something that is actually my style to work again, and to wear heels... :D I'm so over flip flops and vans.
In other other news, I'm still waiting for the arrival of my niece... I hope it is sooner rather than later, because not only is my job such that I will have to see her on whatever days I already have scheduled off, but I haven't seen my bf in 6 weeks and am on the verge of bat shit fucking crazy right now, so I will also need to use days off to see him ASAP.
I have been able to enjoy my mornings off ( I generally work the closing shift; 2-11pm), and now that I am older I find that not only am I more alcohol intolerable, but I also find much more beauty in nature than ever before. These shots are from my walk on the road that runs alongside our woods the other day... there truly is something to be said about Upstate, NY in the summer...
More random thoughts:
1. If one more person of ethnicity asks me if my hair is fake, I may snap.
2. I know I knock cheesy bitches all the time, but for one day, just ONE, I would love to know what life in the world is like for a person with DD breasts and bottle blonde hair and way too much makeup and cheesy attire.... I wish I could have all of these things for one day and then go back to myself.
3. I am so sick of guys and girls alike posting statuses about hitting the gym on FB. Why is that even necessary?
4. I am working on a new painting; it will be extra sexual.
5. Thank God I'm not 19.
