After teetering on the edge of sanity for the past month or so, I took a long, over-due trip upstate to visit my family and friends and relax in the solitude of nature for a while. I have been planning this trip home for the past two months, and thought it would be the perfect opportunity for me to unwind and hang out with the people I love the most while my boyfriend was in Cali getting work done on his tattoos. Little did I know I would end up with what is possibly deep-vein thrombosis, jaundice, and even more anxiety than I left with.
The trip started out with me having not slept and in an extreme state of emotional fragility (<---- nothing new there...). Needless to say, I'm sure my father was alarmed when I passed out in the car on the way home from Binghamton. I had my annual OBGYN appointment and despite the fact that Aunt Flow was MIA for three months running due to extreme stress levels and anxiety, and despite the fact my Dr. acknowledged that this was the reason for its absence, and despite the fact I told him my anxiety has been out the roof lately, he didn't seem at all concerned and told me I should just 'try working it out.' Guess I'll be taking up mediation and yoga this week....
I had plans to see one of my girlfriends that night but ended up passing out on my parent's couch while watching River Monsters at 6pm. I woke up to cancel with my friend and passed back out.
Yesterday started off fine and dandy enough- I felt well-rested, I had several plans to keep me busy throughout the day, and despite the fact that it was pouring rain outside, I was in a really great mood. I got my hairs trimmed and then took a ride with my dad to the woods to check out the cabin and so he could get some firewood as the temperature had dropped from 65 to 30 degrees over a 24-hour period. The rain had turned to snow by early afternoon and I couldn't believe that it was snowing so hard on April 15th. I had thought that I was finally out of winter... no such luck. I chilled inside all day with my baby (Bijou), and then met my friend for a drink around 7. She picked me up since I was on the way, but I was determined not to let this be an excuse to drink too much. My other friend was not meeting us until around 8:30, so we paced ourselves. I had two cosmos over a 2 hour period and even ordered some extra-fat-laden chili cheese fries because I knew it would prevent me from drinking too much and also prevent me from getting too drunk. I ordered a third cosmo which I split with my friend before we all left. I decided I didn't want the fun to end though (what's new?) and instead of getting dropped off back at my house with the friend that had driven me in the first place, I decided it would be fun to sleep over on my other friend's couch since we had SO much to catch up on and I hadn't seen her since November. I had her stop by my rents house so I could grab my phone charger and some CDs (I was determined to listen to Free Bird for some odd reason).
We stopped at the local convenient store as we needed some 'provisions' while we listened to my shitty assortment of CDs loaded with shitty 90s music. Yesterday, before the weather had taken a turn for the worse, I wanted to sit on her porch in what I thought would be the warm Spring air, and talk all night like the days of yore. Since that wasn't an option, given the frickin snow storm taking place, we sat in her car, in her driveway, blasting Breakfast at Tiffany's and Elton John. I ended up smoking many, many camel crushes (I don't smoke, and the last time I indulged in a cigarette drunk I had vowed never to do so again), but for some reason last night seemed like a special occasion... they were calling my name. We took many videos of ourselves lip-synching and screaming the lyrics of such tunes as "I saw My Baby" from Labyrinth, and Breakfast at Tiffany's. I was having so much fun... and then my phone died. Like, for good this time. It is dead.
Needless to say, I went ballistic. It was late, I knew I should go home despite my previous desire to sleep on her couch, and now that my phone had passed away, I was desperate to contact my boyfriend and say goodnight. I started getting anxiety as a tried desperately to get my phone to turn on. I ended up calling my poor father, whom had previously said he'd pick me up if I needed a ride home mind you, and he had to come save my anxiety ridden ass at 2:30am.
When I arrived home, my mom was pretty livid given the state I was in. I was in hysterics as I once again tried to save my phone and kept asking to use her phone. I can see now, why she was pissed at me. I was crying and screaming things like "my phone is dead, my phone is dead!!!! I need to get a new one." Yes, now I know why my mom was pissed off at me... wtf is my problem?! Clearly getting a new phone isn't an option at 3am, so I got on fb, procured my boyfriend's number (I should memorize it for emergencies such as this...) and proceeded to scribble it down on my forearm in blue sharpy... If only my phone/camera worked, I'd post a picture now.. but It's going to have to wait until later this afternoon when I have a new phone.
I am such a sloppy bitch sometimes. I swear to God, I wasn't even that drunk. I was probably just ODing on nicotine if that is such a thing...
As I sit here now, I can hear my phone alerting me that I have texts... they just keep coming in, however my screen is black and nothing I do will turn it on... my anxiety is skyrocketing knowing I have texts I can't read.... this is an issue I need to work on.
My mom is home from work now, and I have apologized for my erratic and wild behavior. She has forgiven me...thank god.
As awesome as we thought those videos we took last night were, I hope they never see the light of day. Last night is truly a night that goes down in my history of most memorable nights. I really need to be leashed sometimes. My friend even told me when we were sitting at the table and I had only had one drink that she could see that 'wild look' in my eye. It's not the first time people have called me out on that look... that look means trouble. Next time someone sees me with that look, please put a leash on me and keep it tight.... I thought I'd grow out of this wild behavior, but it seems like it's not going away anytime soon. YOLO. Jk... honestly though, this is something I really HAVE TO work on. Especially since it's all fun and games until something I don't like or disagree with happens and I go on a rampage.
I'd like to apologize to all of the loved ones that have ever had do deal with me when I'm out of control. Whether it's me calling at 2:30am because my anxiety is so bad that I can't stop crying, or my drunken antics, or my wild behavior when I'm pissed off. I can't promise that I will stop the crying (I'm very emotional) or the frantic phone calls when I can't sleep and am worried about something completely out of my control, but I can promise that it's something I'm going to work on.
At least I got ID'ed last night... that made me feel good about myself. However, I'm pretty sure that after last night's escapades I look about 40 today. Sigh. As I sit here typing, I'm not hungover at all, which is proof that my behavior wasn't a result of the cosmos. However, I do think I have jaundice and possibly lung cancer as a result of the cigarettes... never ever ever again.
God, I can't wait to get a new phone...
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Another Short Story
"What If I was binge drinking absinthe and decided to write a short story?" "Hemmingway wrote drunk all the time... he said that he wrote drunk and edited sober." "I was watching Sand Lot tonight, and in the end when everyone grows up and goes their separate ways I almost cried... just that loss of childhood that you never get back... it really reminded me of college. We could probably make a movie about our college years. We had the best group of friends." "Without bumble bees all of the lilacs will die and Jeff Buckley's soul won't be able to walk thru the lilac fields and make lilac wine anymore..." "Well I think I'll write a short story about Jeff Buckley's soul making lilac wine... make sure that you make sure he is still wearing his water logged boots that he drowned in in the Mississippi."
I lost myself on a cool, damp night
I gave myself in that misty light
I was hypnotized by her strange delight under a lilac tree
I made wine from a lilac tree
I put my heart in it's recipe
because it makes me see what I want to see, be what I want to be
And I think more than I want to think, I do things I never should do
I drink much more than I ought to drink, because it brings me back you
Lilac wine, is sweet and heady like my love
lilac wine- I feel, unsteady
like my love-
Listen to me... I cannot see clearly,
isn't that she? coming to me, nearly here...
Lilac wine, in my veins, yeah you're so sweet and heady
where's my love? Lilac wine, oh you make me feel so unsteady
where's my love?
Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?
Isn't that she? Or am I just going crazy?
Oh how you tricked me, liquid bastard
Lilac wine...
I feel unworthy, of my love
feel unworthy,
of my love
It's a damp, drizzling, cold day in mid-May. Our main character sits at a desk by a large, French window, on the second floor of a three-story townhouse. The light that comes through is a grey-white, and rain drops splatter and stick to the panes of the window. Looking out the window, the author can see a red bike anchored across the street under a sapling that now blows in the wind and rain. A couple holding hands and walking under a single umbrella walk together down the street. The main character, his name is James.
James happens to notice the bright red boots of the female passerby and stands to look out the window onto the street below. The woman and man that walk together, hand in hand, appear to be laughing at something. Their umbrella blows inside out in the wind, and they run down the street. There is a crack of thunder and James sits back down at his desk in the guest bedroom/office where he often likes to sit alone at his laptop writing short stories. On this particular day, James happens to be listening to Jeff Buckley. Although he would consider Jeff Buckley to be one of his favorite artists, he especially loves listening to his music in rainy weather, and in the spring when the lilacs bloom... when the world feels new again and the scenery is romantic- the haziness of the blooming flowers in the mist and rain. The way that couples seem to connect in the Spring. Although winter is the perfect opportunity for cozying up together by a fire at home, and although summer is the perfect time to frolic and play all night, there is something so inviting in the way of love in late Spring. It's as though the rain calls one to take cover where ever they can in the midst of an on-going storm. The thunder and lightening often make for exciting evenings when a date night is wrapping up, and the cool nights are perfect for cooking hearty dishes before the summer palate of salads and grilling takes over dining in. James is hopelessly alone though, having given up on sharing any of these moments with a significant other years before. Instead, James lives inside of his head thinking of how pleasant life would be to have a girlfriend to share romantic moments with. He doesn't know why he tortures himself by listening to Jeff Buckley when he is feeling particularly melancholy, but the music makes him feel alive, sending a shiver up his spine and making the hair on his arm stand up. He takes off his glasses and goes into the bathroom and stares at his reflection in the mirror.
His gut is a little bit bigger than it was three years ago, and he has more lines around his eyes, which are especially noticeable when he smiles at himself. The lines above the bridge of his nose are especially apparent when he frowns now, and as he leans closer into his reflection, he notices white hairs amongst his light brown ones. He grabs a couple of advil out of the cabinet (low pressure systems always give him headaches) above the sink and gulps them down with some tap water. He takes another look at himself as he sighs, and turning on his heels, he turns to face the door and flicks off the light switch. He returns to his computer desk and takes a seat. "When the fuck did I get old?" he says out loud to only himself. It has been years since James had a proper girlfriend. In fact, it has been over five years. The last girl that he dated broke his heart... she cheated on him with a friend that he introduced her to at a work dinner party. He sometimes had suspicions about her fidelity, especially towards the end of their relationship when she became distant and started acting shady with her phone and email. However, he gave her the benefit of the doubt because he loved her and trusted her.
Then one day he found out that she had been a previous stripper at Sapphire lounge. He struggled to accept the fact that his picture perfect girl friend had a dirty past. He also found out via a text thread in her phone (she had the dude's name under a fake girl's cover-name so James never clicked on the text thread when he had previously scrolled through her phone). Needless to say, he dumped her ass in a heartbeat and never looked back. Looking back hurt to much.
Now he sat at his computer listening to 'lilac wine' and wanting to die. He thought of ways to kill himself... K-hole, ODing on molly, slitting his wrist in the claw-foot bathtub...
He sat there alone and began to cry. Suddenly James heard the sound of a guitar behind him and turned around to find the spirit of Jeff Buckley sitting on his bed. Jeff buckley was a thing of beauty. James suddently considered becoming gay.
Jeff buckley had on his water-logged boots from his "accidental" drowning in the Mississippi. The boots left wet footprints underneath where he sat on the edge of the guest bed... water pooling around the soles on the dark, parquet flooring. Jeff buckley looked James dead in the eye and then stopped strumming and put down his guitar. "James," he said, "do you like lilac wine?" He pulled out a bottle from underneath the bed along with a wine opener and two glasses. "Here... it's the never ending bottle of lilac wine."
The two men got obliterated and talked about love, relationships, their depression and suicidal thoughts. Then they proceeded to blow lines of molly on top of lines of K, on top of about two bottles of lilac wine each... needless to say, James died that night, and Jeff Buckley died a second time.
They both woke up together laying in the grass of a lilac field under the late afternoon sun. Jeff Buckley and James were both lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. And now, as they stared each other in the eyes, a single tear rolled down James's face. A single tear also rolled down Jeff Buckley's face. "James, I love you." said Jeff Buckley.
THE END
I lost myself on a cool, damp night
I gave myself in that misty light
I was hypnotized by her strange delight under a lilac tree
I made wine from a lilac tree
I put my heart in it's recipe
because it makes me see what I want to see, be what I want to be
And I think more than I want to think, I do things I never should do
I drink much more than I ought to drink, because it brings me back you
Lilac wine, is sweet and heady like my love
lilac wine- I feel, unsteady
like my love-
Listen to me... I cannot see clearly,
isn't that she? coming to me, nearly here...
Lilac wine, in my veins, yeah you're so sweet and heady
where's my love? Lilac wine, oh you make me feel so unsteady
where's my love?
Listen to me, why is everything so hazy?
Isn't that she? Or am I just going crazy?
Oh how you tricked me, liquid bastard
Lilac wine...
I feel unworthy, of my love
feel unworthy,
of my love
It's a damp, drizzling, cold day in mid-May. Our main character sits at a desk by a large, French window, on the second floor of a three-story townhouse. The light that comes through is a grey-white, and rain drops splatter and stick to the panes of the window. Looking out the window, the author can see a red bike anchored across the street under a sapling that now blows in the wind and rain. A couple holding hands and walking under a single umbrella walk together down the street. The main character, his name is James.
James happens to notice the bright red boots of the female passerby and stands to look out the window onto the street below. The woman and man that walk together, hand in hand, appear to be laughing at something. Their umbrella blows inside out in the wind, and they run down the street. There is a crack of thunder and James sits back down at his desk in the guest bedroom/office where he often likes to sit alone at his laptop writing short stories. On this particular day, James happens to be listening to Jeff Buckley. Although he would consider Jeff Buckley to be one of his favorite artists, he especially loves listening to his music in rainy weather, and in the spring when the lilacs bloom... when the world feels new again and the scenery is romantic- the haziness of the blooming flowers in the mist and rain. The way that couples seem to connect in the Spring. Although winter is the perfect opportunity for cozying up together by a fire at home, and although summer is the perfect time to frolic and play all night, there is something so inviting in the way of love in late Spring. It's as though the rain calls one to take cover where ever they can in the midst of an on-going storm. The thunder and lightening often make for exciting evenings when a date night is wrapping up, and the cool nights are perfect for cooking hearty dishes before the summer palate of salads and grilling takes over dining in. James is hopelessly alone though, having given up on sharing any of these moments with a significant other years before. Instead, James lives inside of his head thinking of how pleasant life would be to have a girlfriend to share romantic moments with. He doesn't know why he tortures himself by listening to Jeff Buckley when he is feeling particularly melancholy, but the music makes him feel alive, sending a shiver up his spine and making the hair on his arm stand up. He takes off his glasses and goes into the bathroom and stares at his reflection in the mirror.
His gut is a little bit bigger than it was three years ago, and he has more lines around his eyes, which are especially noticeable when he smiles at himself. The lines above the bridge of his nose are especially apparent when he frowns now, and as he leans closer into his reflection, he notices white hairs amongst his light brown ones. He grabs a couple of advil out of the cabinet (low pressure systems always give him headaches) above the sink and gulps them down with some tap water. He takes another look at himself as he sighs, and turning on his heels, he turns to face the door and flicks off the light switch. He returns to his computer desk and takes a seat. "When the fuck did I get old?" he says out loud to only himself. It has been years since James had a proper girlfriend. In fact, it has been over five years. The last girl that he dated broke his heart... she cheated on him with a friend that he introduced her to at a work dinner party. He sometimes had suspicions about her fidelity, especially towards the end of their relationship when she became distant and started acting shady with her phone and email. However, he gave her the benefit of the doubt because he loved her and trusted her.
Then one day he found out that she had been a previous stripper at Sapphire lounge. He struggled to accept the fact that his picture perfect girl friend had a dirty past. He also found out via a text thread in her phone (she had the dude's name under a fake girl's cover-name so James never clicked on the text thread when he had previously scrolled through her phone). Needless to say, he dumped her ass in a heartbeat and never looked back. Looking back hurt to much.
Now he sat at his computer listening to 'lilac wine' and wanting to die. He thought of ways to kill himself... K-hole, ODing on molly, slitting his wrist in the claw-foot bathtub...
He sat there alone and began to cry. Suddenly James heard the sound of a guitar behind him and turned around to find the spirit of Jeff Buckley sitting on his bed. Jeff buckley was a thing of beauty. James suddently considered becoming gay.
Jeff buckley had on his water-logged boots from his "accidental" drowning in the Mississippi. The boots left wet footprints underneath where he sat on the edge of the guest bed... water pooling around the soles on the dark, parquet flooring. Jeff buckley looked James dead in the eye and then stopped strumming and put down his guitar. "James," he said, "do you like lilac wine?" He pulled out a bottle from underneath the bed along with a wine opener and two glasses. "Here... it's the never ending bottle of lilac wine."
The two men got obliterated and talked about love, relationships, their depression and suicidal thoughts. Then they proceeded to blow lines of molly on top of lines of K, on top of about two bottles of lilac wine each... needless to say, James died that night, and Jeff Buckley died a second time.
They both woke up together laying in the grass of a lilac field under the late afternoon sun. Jeff Buckley and James were both lost souls, swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. And now, as they stared each other in the eyes, a single tear rolled down James's face. A single tear also rolled down Jeff Buckley's face. "James, I love you." said Jeff Buckley.
THE END
Tuesday, April 1, 2014
The End of The Nightlife Chronicles... for now...
As I sit here on this beautiful, sunny day removing my perfect nail polish from my perfectly manicured nails, a wave of defeat sweeps over me. Why am I removing my nail polish if it is still perfectly intact you ask? Oh, well it's because my job doesn't allow me to wear nail polish unless it is clear.
All I want in this life right now (at least as far as careers go), is a job that allows me to earn a livable wage (ex. enough to pay rent, bills and save a decent chunk), a job that is creative, or a job that allows me a schedule conducive to my current living habits (sleeping in, staying up late). Also, a job that allows me to wear nail polish and makeup and heels would be cool too, because it takes me about 10 minutes to get ready for my current job and I always feel so sloppy and unkempt and child-like that I can hardly live inside my own skin. Anyone that knows me knows that I live for heels and feminine things... so when I walk into work everyday wearing cuffed jeans, flip flops, and no makeup I feel like a mess... not even a hot mess.. just a MESS. I hate it. I can't even take myself seriously for God's sake.
Anyhow...
After a two month debate, I have quit my job at Highline once and for all. It was one of the hardest decisions that I've ever had to make; I know that it probably sounds trivial to anyone reading this right now... but I had more than just a weekend job invested in that place.
After two of my friends and fellow co-workers quit around January, it was a slow decline for me. Not only did I not have my comrades to joke about all of the idiots and sluts around us with, but I had no one to socialize with while I stood at the hostess stand. Making it worse was the fact that one of the new 'managers' that was hired there treated me like complete shit. I won't go into detail because I have to leave for work soon and I'll just get violent at the mere thought of him....
I tried to tough it out, but the fact that he treated me like less than a person and took away rights that I previously had didn't fly with me. On top of that, I started going psycho every weekend on my boyfriend because working in nightlife is pretty taxing when you work with your significant other. I couldn't separate my relationship from work anymore. Every time a new bottle server got hired I was suspicious and would start an argument whenever I saw something I didn't agree with. Furthermore, I came to resent the bottle servers as I stood there in the lobby shivering in a fucking winter coat every weekend and they got to waltz around the joint almost naked. We all know I love being naked, so I seethed in fury that I looked like a goddamn eskimo and they strutted their shit around in booty shorts and corsets. I also resented the fact that some of them were the most ungrateful people I had ever met. I don't think a 19 year old that makes in one night what I make in a week of full-time work should ever get bitchy towards me for helping explain the bottle package that she was too fucking dumb to understand. I also don't think that someone who makes that much money for one night of work should ever expect me to collect THEIR tip from the promoter, or bus THEIR tables, or even help them carry THEIR bottle over to the table. Sorry bitch, I'm not the one walking away with $500 tonight....
As you can see, the rage in me is still slowly subsiding. I just don't understand how something that started out as a fun weekend job for me evolved into something that filled me with hate every single weekend. I tried so hard to keep my cool, but at the end of every night I would end up going home and crying. I realized in the end that I had to get out to save my relationship and to save my sanity. As a girl (and I'm sure any girl reading this can relate) we have a tendency to blow little things up into big things. I do this because I have a very over-active imagination. When I started hostessing and wasn't as invested in my relationship as I am now, the little things didn't bother me. But recently, I would go fucking wild inside every time I saw someone touch my boyfriend's arm, or talking with him in the side station. I knew I had to get out before I drove myself and him insane.
Now, the battle is going to be finding a way to entertain myself on the weekends. For most people, that should be no struggle at all. However, for the past year of my life, I never even considered Friday and Saturday nights my weekend. MY WEEKEND was Sunday night, or Monday night... or whatever week day night that my boyfriend and I had off together to go out on. Even though I was making shit for money their, it was still a supplement to my full-time income. So now, instead of making money on the weekend, I'll be spending it if I go out.
I have been considering finding another hostessing job to keep me out of trouble on the weekend and to keep my mind off of Highline, but I think that's easier said than done as well. Most people would argue that I should enjoy my weekend nights for what they are and relish in the fact that now I can get more sleep. But I don't think I will get more sleep because if I'm not kept busy on a Friday and Saturday night, my mind will go to dark places and I will go bat-shit insane if I'm not entertained or in the company of friends. The first week was rough.... it was a really hard transition not packing a bag with my heels and dress for Highline. As my shift at Mollister came to a close, it felt weird not feeling that urge to hurry up and close the store so I could get ready and do my hair and makeup. It felt... UNNATURAL. haha. I spent my first free Saturday out with one of my girlfriends. It was fun at first, but it just reaffirmed why I don't really like going out to clubs on a weekend night. All of the guys that go out are gross for the most part. As the night wore on, I started to get slightly emo... but luckily was kept on track by my friend. This weekend, I decided to have a casual night in with another girlfriend I hadn't seen in a while. Everything started out fine and dandy enough until my wine consumption peaked and we started talking about Highline and my mind just went off to another place. Needless to say, the night ended badly with me getting violently ill and going psycho. I really do need another job to keep me out of trouble...
HELP.
In addition to now needing a weekend job, I am still facing the uphill battle of finding a better full-time job. Despite my devotion to Craigslist, the search has been futile. I just don't get it. From the lack of responses I get, you'd think I was either 1. Stupid, 2. Had a poor employment history, 3. Really ugly, or 4. Had medical issues that rendered me unhireable. None of these are the case... I have a great employment history, have left every job on good terms and with good references, am personable, have a well-rounded resume, and am *decent* looking. What the fuck gives? It's still a joke to me at this point. I am still very grateful I have a full-time job though while I continue to look. Imagine if I didn't have my current job? Fuck.... I'd either be hitting the stripper pole, suicidal, or would just have to move back home. It wouldn't be pretty... so I should count my lucky stars every day for Mollister... even if I feel like less of a woman for not being able to wear nail polish or heels. ;) I'm also so thankful that I have friends and family and a boyfriend that continually support and try to help me in my job search. I just can't help feeling as though I've let them down in addition to letting myself down every time they find a lead or suggest a job that I apply to and it goes no where. Something has to give sometime very soon....
All I want in this life right now (at least as far as careers go), is a job that allows me to earn a livable wage (ex. enough to pay rent, bills and save a decent chunk), a job that is creative, or a job that allows me a schedule conducive to my current living habits (sleeping in, staying up late). Also, a job that allows me to wear nail polish and makeup and heels would be cool too, because it takes me about 10 minutes to get ready for my current job and I always feel so sloppy and unkempt and child-like that I can hardly live inside my own skin. Anyone that knows me knows that I live for heels and feminine things... so when I walk into work everyday wearing cuffed jeans, flip flops, and no makeup I feel like a mess... not even a hot mess.. just a MESS. I hate it. I can't even take myself seriously for God's sake.
Anyhow...
After a two month debate, I have quit my job at Highline once and for all. It was one of the hardest decisions that I've ever had to make; I know that it probably sounds trivial to anyone reading this right now... but I had more than just a weekend job invested in that place.
After two of my friends and fellow co-workers quit around January, it was a slow decline for me. Not only did I not have my comrades to joke about all of the idiots and sluts around us with, but I had no one to socialize with while I stood at the hostess stand. Making it worse was the fact that one of the new 'managers' that was hired there treated me like complete shit. I won't go into detail because I have to leave for work soon and I'll just get violent at the mere thought of him....
I tried to tough it out, but the fact that he treated me like less than a person and took away rights that I previously had didn't fly with me. On top of that, I started going psycho every weekend on my boyfriend because working in nightlife is pretty taxing when you work with your significant other. I couldn't separate my relationship from work anymore. Every time a new bottle server got hired I was suspicious and would start an argument whenever I saw something I didn't agree with. Furthermore, I came to resent the bottle servers as I stood there in the lobby shivering in a fucking winter coat every weekend and they got to waltz around the joint almost naked. We all know I love being naked, so I seethed in fury that I looked like a goddamn eskimo and they strutted their shit around in booty shorts and corsets. I also resented the fact that some of them were the most ungrateful people I had ever met. I don't think a 19 year old that makes in one night what I make in a week of full-time work should ever get bitchy towards me for helping explain the bottle package that she was too fucking dumb to understand. I also don't think that someone who makes that much money for one night of work should ever expect me to collect THEIR tip from the promoter, or bus THEIR tables, or even help them carry THEIR bottle over to the table. Sorry bitch, I'm not the one walking away with $500 tonight....
As you can see, the rage in me is still slowly subsiding. I just don't understand how something that started out as a fun weekend job for me evolved into something that filled me with hate every single weekend. I tried so hard to keep my cool, but at the end of every night I would end up going home and crying. I realized in the end that I had to get out to save my relationship and to save my sanity. As a girl (and I'm sure any girl reading this can relate) we have a tendency to blow little things up into big things. I do this because I have a very over-active imagination. When I started hostessing and wasn't as invested in my relationship as I am now, the little things didn't bother me. But recently, I would go fucking wild inside every time I saw someone touch my boyfriend's arm, or talking with him in the side station. I knew I had to get out before I drove myself and him insane.
Now, the battle is going to be finding a way to entertain myself on the weekends. For most people, that should be no struggle at all. However, for the past year of my life, I never even considered Friday and Saturday nights my weekend. MY WEEKEND was Sunday night, or Monday night... or whatever week day night that my boyfriend and I had off together to go out on. Even though I was making shit for money their, it was still a supplement to my full-time income. So now, instead of making money on the weekend, I'll be spending it if I go out.
I have been considering finding another hostessing job to keep me out of trouble on the weekend and to keep my mind off of Highline, but I think that's easier said than done as well. Most people would argue that I should enjoy my weekend nights for what they are and relish in the fact that now I can get more sleep. But I don't think I will get more sleep because if I'm not kept busy on a Friday and Saturday night, my mind will go to dark places and I will go bat-shit insane if I'm not entertained or in the company of friends. The first week was rough.... it was a really hard transition not packing a bag with my heels and dress for Highline. As my shift at Mollister came to a close, it felt weird not feeling that urge to hurry up and close the store so I could get ready and do my hair and makeup. It felt... UNNATURAL. haha. I spent my first free Saturday out with one of my girlfriends. It was fun at first, but it just reaffirmed why I don't really like going out to clubs on a weekend night. All of the guys that go out are gross for the most part. As the night wore on, I started to get slightly emo... but luckily was kept on track by my friend. This weekend, I decided to have a casual night in with another girlfriend I hadn't seen in a while. Everything started out fine and dandy enough until my wine consumption peaked and we started talking about Highline and my mind just went off to another place. Needless to say, the night ended badly with me getting violently ill and going psycho. I really do need another job to keep me out of trouble...
HELP.
In addition to now needing a weekend job, I am still facing the uphill battle of finding a better full-time job. Despite my devotion to Craigslist, the search has been futile. I just don't get it. From the lack of responses I get, you'd think I was either 1. Stupid, 2. Had a poor employment history, 3. Really ugly, or 4. Had medical issues that rendered me unhireable. None of these are the case... I have a great employment history, have left every job on good terms and with good references, am personable, have a well-rounded resume, and am *decent* looking. What the fuck gives? It's still a joke to me at this point. I am still very grateful I have a full-time job though while I continue to look. Imagine if I didn't have my current job? Fuck.... I'd either be hitting the stripper pole, suicidal, or would just have to move back home. It wouldn't be pretty... so I should count my lucky stars every day for Mollister... even if I feel like less of a woman for not being able to wear nail polish or heels. ;) I'm also so thankful that I have friends and family and a boyfriend that continually support and try to help me in my job search. I just can't help feeling as though I've let them down in addition to letting myself down every time they find a lead or suggest a job that I apply to and it goes no where. Something has to give sometime very soon....
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