My One Night of Debauchery (New Years Eve)

As promised, I am delivering the story of my crazy New Year’s celebration. First let me say, any New Years I have had in the past were strictly PG-13. When I was younger, it usually entailed going to Bayside with my family to be on the beach, play the boardwalk games and see the fireworks. As I got older it usually meant being at a conference with about 20,000 strangers, very anti-climactic. For once I wanted a stereotypical night of drinks, party hats, dancing and an entire room full of people counting down and kissing each other when the ball drops. I wanted the last scene from “When Harry Met Sally.” Well, let me tell you, we are not in the early 90s my friend. All that PG-13 crap has flown out the window.

The night started off pretty innocently. My friend came over to my house to change after work. We both had a glass of pink champagne and headed out to a place called Kelly’s to meet up with some people. When we arrived the night was in full swing. Everyone was dressed up and decked out in New Year’s Eve garb. My friend and I got ourselves a drink and joined the fun. Apparently, we were late to the drinking game cause while we were completely sober-minded, others were so piss drunk they couldn’t even tell you their own names. I’m talking super sloppy, which is not really my scene. About twenty minutes in, I’m getting pulled onto the dance floor by some drunk rando that grabbed my arm as I was talking to my friend. I was about two seconds from tasering him when this blonde girl he was with whispered in my ear, begging me to save her and just dance with him once. I decided to do her a favor so, here I am with a completely stranger too wasted to tell me his name when I asked and he’s swinging me around on the dance floor. Meanwhile, I’m looking at my friends like, “why did I agree to this?” Apparently, my face was so priceless, my friend took a picture and posted in on social media without my knowledge. Later on, another drunk guy rams into my friend and proceeds to try and apologize, but all I got was “You guys are hot….” slur, slur, slur.

Midnight rolls around and by this time I have two drinks and a Jello shot in me, so when a friend of a friend, whom I had just met asks for a kiss, I consent. Totally not my personality. Confession time: I haven’t kissed a guy in like three years, maybe longer, before this night. I guess I just thought I was overdue. HUGE MISTAKE! It was mediocre, at best. Moving on, we decided to leave to another spot across the street, but not before one of the people in our group gets a penis hat from the balloon animal guy. At this point, I am having a good time, but officially out of my comfort zone.

Finally, we ended the night at this really sketchy gay bar where we went to dance. I expected “Birdcage,”  I got something entirely different. Proof of my naivety and total lack of experience. This place was so not on the level, at one point some random stranger walked up to me on the dance floor and asked me if I or any of the people I was with had cocaine. Time to go. Shamefully, this is where I kissed the friend of a friend again. I thought maybe the first time was a fluke, it wasn’t.

All in all, waking up the next day I harbored regrets. Though I did not get drunk, not even close, I kissed a random nobody and it just wasn’t me. And that’s just it, I have to be true to myself. I am a good girl through and through and for the first time, I’m not only proud of it, I prefer it. I have walked on the wild side and I find I would rather be at home reading a book and knitting. Don’t get me wrong, I like going out and will continue to do s , in moderation; but “going out” for me looks very different than it does for most; and I discovered I am more than okay with that.

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YOU’RE WELCOME!

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Exciting News!!!

Hello My Little Darlings,

Sorry I have been MIA, but I figured it was time to take the bull by the horns. As many of you know, I’m in school getting my English degree; and though I have lamented that I am going to be thirty and just graduating, nevertheless, I am glad I’m finally going for the dream of becoming a full fledged professional writer. Being so close to my last two years has got me thinking a lot about the near future. Studying abroad, doing an internship, building my writing resume, etc… And I figured it’s time to get cracking on that list.

I did some research for freelance writing gigs and decided to submit some work to an online publication called Skirt Collective, please go check them out www.skirtcollective.com. Long story short, I got published! More importantly, I am about to be published yet again. I am thrilled with the relationship I am building with this publication and hope it will blossom and open other doors of opportunity.

I will be diving more into the freelance world, as my confidence has been boosted by the feedback I have received from readers and publishers. However, I don’t want to neglect you all, so I am writing this to say that I will be posting soon. It’s all about my crazy New Years that was straight out of a college drinking flick. Definitely glad its over and I never want to do it again. Hope your interest is peeked, because I don’t think the story will disappoint. Until next time!

The Reemergrance of John Doe

I guess you can’t really qualify what I’m about to say as serendipitous. It’s not one of those things that couldn’t exist without the hand of fate. This is simply interesting. So, for those of you who’ve read my previous entries, you’ll know what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, than I suggest you go back and visit, “John Doe and Mr. Wrong” and “The Death of Mr. Wrong and John Doe Revealed”.

Out of the blue, my friend texts me to go see a local band at this bar with his friends. At first I thought he had accidentally text the wrong person, because it was so out of the blue and if you know me, you’ll know I’m not exactly the partying kind. However, I was working at the time and decided that I needed it, so I said yes.

When I met up with my friend I expected it to be awkward. I didn’t know his girlfriend or any of his friends, but I was told that others I knew would be there. Long story short, a guy in the group made his way over to me and monopolized my night trying to get to know me. Trust me when I say, I’m not complaining, but again, it’s not something I’m used to. We ended up leaving at the same time and we exchanged numbers, in a roundabout way.

Talking with him over the course of a few days, suddenly this random thought struck me. His name sounded familiar. Like I had heard it before I ever met me. Then the dots started connecting and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head. “No, it can’t be.” I rushed to this very blog, scrolling down to where I knew the information I needed would be found. Sure enough, his name was there in black and white. Jeff, the guy I met at this random bar, the guy I seemingly hit it off with was John Doe. The same John Doe that my friend (Mr. Wrong) was going to set me up with for my birthday.

Now, before you get excited, let me bring you back down to reality. Nothing has happened with Jeff. In fact, I’m pretty certain nothing will ever happen with Jeff. Plainly, I just don’t think he’s interested. I don’t have an explanation for how a person can appear interested one minute, even going as far as getting your number and then it fizzle out and things go on as they did before you ever met them. I wish I knew what went on in the head of such people. What was the turning point? When did you make up your mind that nothing was ever going to happen? How can you decide such a definitive thing after such little interaction?

In conclusion, I know I am a bit inexperienced, despite the amount of relationships I have had in my life. I have no idea how dating is supposed to work. More importantly, I feel like the current state of being single and putting yourself out there is fairly pointless when you think about the condition of the dating world today. What do I mean? There is only one person who can make my feelings about the subject so plainly clear. Enjoy!

First Time Drunk

I’m a control freak most of the time. I’m not a type A control freak. I value and encourage spontaneity. Really, the things I want to control are the things I can’t: love, life, opportunities, etc… In these areas I like to know where I’m going and what I’m doing. I think it’s a defense mechanism to be honest. If I know how things will result, than I can avoid pain. Pain my greatest teacher, pain my greatest enemy. Obviously, this never works, pain in life is inevitable and a lot of the times unavoidable. Over the years, I have learned to let go little by little, but there are many layers to this onion and I’m always surprised to discover how much being in control plays into the many different areas of my life. So, it makes sense why being drunk is not for me.

Last night was my 28th birthday. I decided that I was going to let loose and have fun. I went to an art festival, had dinner, saw a comedy show and then finished the night with drinks at a jazz lounge. Now, usually when I go out I limit myself to one drink. I didn’t even have my first full drink until I was 27. Why you ask? I don’t really care for the taste of most alcohol and the first time I actually finished a drink was because I finally found one I did like. That opened the door, but only a crack. I really had no desire to push the envelope or try and discover my limit by leaping twenty steps over it. Nothing about getting drunk appealed to me. The losing control, getting sick, making an ass of yourself, the day after, etc…

I’ve heard all the arguments for getting wasted and there all idiotic. People don’t want to admit it’s escapism because that’s weakness, so they make other claims. “It relaxes me”- Newsflash, you were relaxed five drinks ago, so if relaxation was your only reasoning, then why you didn’t stop? “It’s fun!”- This one is my favorite because of the aforementioned negative affects of drinking. What is so fun about that? Not to mention, that if you need alcohol to have fun, than you must be really boring. I know this because I experienced getting drunk last night and it’s like having an outer body episode. So, in order for you to have “fun” you have to practically remove yourself from yourself? Right.

This is my one and only drunk story. First off, I’m naive. I was so sure I was fine, stable even. The problem is I had never even been around a drunk person before, so I had no frame of reference for when enough was enough. I only had movies for my guide, and in movies it takes 30 shots before someone got wasted, not 2, which is how many I had. 2 shots and 1 drink and I was unsteadily walking to the bathroom, laughing one minute and crying the next. Let’s not even get into the unusual affection I was showing some of my friends, petting them, grabbing their faces and telling them I loved them. I had no control over my body and no control over my emotions and I did not like that.

Here is the thing, you don’t know when you’ve had enough until you’ve had too much. My friends warned me, in the moment, that it was going to hit me all at once. There was no previous knowledge of this; and I had felt nothing up until that point. Then suddenly I’m resting my head on my friend’s shoulder, because I felt like a bobble doll, saying, and I quote, “My head is heavy.”

The after affects of being drunk, when you never have, are awful. Guilt, headache, dehydration, guilt, identity crisis, etc… Guilt. All in all, it’s not for me. I’m the booknerd, the knitter, the Golden Girls watcher, not the Girls Gone Wild candidate. So, one drink is my limit. End of Story.