I'm revamping just about every single aspect of my life, and have been for quite some time. Well, I say quite some time, but that really means a few months. I want to get back into shape, so I started running again a month ago. I wanted to get my life on track because I've been directionless for far too long, so I put myself in school, gave Allen custody of Gabriel (though I did that awhile ago), and started preparing myself to move and be my own person again. I'm slowly starting to be a bit better about eating (for instance, actually EATING). I've been negligent about making a big step to get help to make everything better in my head, but I've finally done that, too. What's left is quitting smoking (and I'm really excited to let that go. But for right now, it's a crutch that I really need, because it's familiar and I suppose it's one of those odd extensions of how much my insides hurt, and I know how much smoking hurts me, and I'm just trying to make everything match. It's a comforting form of a long, slow death, and it's the only form of self-harm I can justify), and giving up booze. Which will absolutely suck. I love drinking. But that's the problem. I've been leaning on drinking heavily for the last month and some change, and especially the last few days. That's unwise, unhealthy, and stupid. So, while smoking and drinking have been gorgeous security blankets, I have to give them up at some point. Drinking goes first.
Perhaps giving up drinking also has to do with the fact that I've been pretty solidly drunk since Friday night.
HOWEVER, I had a shitload of fun this weekend.
Recap!
Friday was my birthday. I hate being 29, because it's boarding the ship to 30. And the thought of being 30 scared me, up until a few days ago. I started reflecting on the things I've accomplished thus far, and they're not landmarks that most people would herald as monumental, but I do. And then I started thinking about how reinventing yourself at 30 takes a shitload of balls, and that's it really ok to be who I am and where I am, because I won't be there for much longer, and when I'm done, I'll be a different person. I'll still be me, but a better version. So being 29 is ok. I don't mind now. Moving on...
Like I said, Friday was my birthday. I worked for half of the day (which was actually very nice. Sara baked me a beautiful cake, and bought me a bouquet of flowers. Such lovely presents!), went home, had lunch with Allen, ran, and got ready to go out with Tosh. We went to Union Station to watch a friend's son's band play (I do enjoy Sarita, but I did not in any way enjoy the music. Not one bit. I had a few drinks, and it improved nothing. Tosh and I kept glancing at each other and giggling over the words), and then stayed behind after the show for just a little bit to chat with Adrianne, Sarita, and Maggie. We had another show to be at, so we didn't stay long.
Joe's band played at Rhino's, and they were so awesomely funky. Joe is an older guy that works on Tosh's team, and I've only ever seen him as a very professional real estate agent. Friday was a complete 180. He was wearing a loose button down and a jaunty little cap, and very, very role-fitting sunglasses. I loved it. Joe sat and talked with me and Tosh during their set break, and Joe gave me a bit of advice and paid me a couple of compliments. Which was lovely. When their set started again, I was blown away by how fun and unexpected their sound was. Tosh and I sang along and danced and had an absolute blast. But we had a few people we knew were waiting for us to get downtown, so we slipped out after hanging out for a bit less than an hour.
The streets downtown were closed off for outdoor volleyball (which I didn't hate watching for a few minutes. Not even a little bit. Thanks for not wearing shirts, guys! YAY!), so Tosh and I had to park fairly far away. But we walked to Gasoline Alley and watched volleyball on the way, and I made the mistake of telling some guy I liked the Giants shirt he was wearing. He responded with, "I like your shirt too, baby." to which I said, "EW." and felt gross. We met up with Chris at the bar, got our drinks, and then Tosh and I decided that tonight wouldn't just be about my birthday, it would be Operation Ladyfriend for Chris. But he didn't want to play along. That didn't stop us from trying, and we had fun trying to play wingman, even if he made it retarded hard for us. There was some sort of contest going on on the very first level of the bar, and beer pong going on on the second level, and we were on the top floor, where a drunk guy in a sombrero was walking up to people, making weird, weird faces, and then moving on to the next group. The sombrero guy was harshing my buzz, beer pong had WAY too long a line, and whatever contest was going on wasn't holding our attention. So, we all killed our drinks and went to The Thirsty Parrot. Tosh keeps telling me that it's her favorite bar, and I cannot figure out why. We have the WORST luck when we go there. It's always way too fucking packed to get a drink, and people there are dickbags. We sat for a few minutes trying to find someone for Chris, but that didn't work out the way that we wanted, so we left. And leaving took ten minutes, because it was like a sardine can in there. A sweaty, pulsing, noisy sardine can where all of the sardines are trying to fuck each other.
Tosh and I looked at each other once we were outside and decided it was time to dance. This was at 11:30. So, we went to The Mansion, didn't have to wait in line OR pay the cover, which was fucking fantastic, went upstairs (where they play 80's and early 90's music on a dance floor that lights up like a Simon Says board. I fucking LOVE the second floor of The Mansion), ordered drinks, slammed them, and then got to dancing. And we danced and danced and danced. We were having so much fucking fun. Chris didn't want to dance, despite us begging and begging him to loosen up and go dance with the girl we picked out for him.
Tosh and I, several drinks in:
We went back to dancing, and a couple of guys started dancing with us. We danced with them until the club closed, and then we all decided we wanted to grab something to eat, because we had been drinking and dancing for the last few hours, and obviously we were all drunk hungry. Drungry? That's too many r's and it sounds bizarre, but I do love invented word conglomerates. Chris left us after The Mansion closed, so it was just the five of us left. We walked down to King's Chef, and after we all sat down and Tosh and I decided what we wanted to eat, the guys bribed us into going to Thai Lily. It was a bit of a drive, and the guy that I had been dancing with decided he wanted to drive with Tosh and I. So the three of us walked all the way back to my car, and Tosh and I made him listen to the CD we had made especially for nights when we go out (we call it the White Girl Wasted CD, and it's full of 80's and 90's pop music). He told me I had an amazing singing voice, and Tosh agreed. Hooray! We all had a great time on the drive over to Thai Lily.
Thai Lily is my new favorite place. I had never heard of it, but it caters specifically to drungry patrons. One of the guys was pretty fucking regular there, enough to know the names of the people who worked there, and we all got a discount on our food. Tosh and the other two guys ordered foods of varying spice, and when they arrived, it smelled like hell pain. Fuck. It smelled so god damn spicy that I almost felt a little bit sick to my stomach. I had that weird twinge going on. My food, however, was delightful. We all dug in to each other's plates, sampling everything and regretting the hot bites. The fellow I had been dancing with didn't order anything, but tried everybody's food just the same. The middle of the table was a disaster area by the time we all decided to leave. Tosh and I had so much fucking fun. They made us laugh because they were so fucking silly; it was an awesome way to end the night. I dropped Tosh off at her house, and then I went to hang out with the three boys and watch really awful movies.
I got home at about 5:30 am, fell asleep at 6, and then woke up at 10. I took a mini nap an hour later, woke up, got dressed, and then went and hung out with Allen, Stevie, and Chris (because Tosh and I both decided that hiking could go fuck itself). I had a fucking marvelous steak sandwich that calmed down what was actually a gloriously perfect hangover, and because I hadn't made enough wonderfully bad choices in the last 24 hours, I indulged in more alcohol. Stevie and I made plans to go back downtown later for a few drinks and to take pictures of drunk people in front of the various art installations littered around the streets.
I met up with Courtney last night for a few drinks and had a great time catching up with her. Stevie bailed on going downtown because something she ate didn't agree with her, and that actually worked out INSANELY well for me, because I was EXHAUSTED, due to sleeping for a grand total of 8 hours in the last 48. I went home from the bar and crashed at 11, waking up at 8 this morning feeling mostly fantastic.
And now here I am. At work, on this foggy, bleak day, blogging. I have my other two blogs to write in, as well, and I'm on to write in those next. But this is a magnificent writing day. I'm planning on going home, bundling up with a nice mug of chai, and writing some more of my genre story. I've been plugging away nicely at that, and if I keep this up, I'll have my story finished in a couple of weeks.
This was quite long, but I feel like I'm all caught up now.
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