a victoria p


11 March 2008

Bite Marks, The G-Spot, Wedding Websites, Drunk Dials, Texts, Emails, Blog Posts: Oh, My

First of all, I am sober. I am very, very sober and very, very happy about that, except that I am sitting on an outbox of emails I drunkingly wrote within the last week. I am literally too afraid to open them to review what I wrote and have been avoiding doing so for the last two days. It's apparent that when I'm drunk things that would never (and should never) make sense, come together all too swimmingly. Drunk texts, drunk dials, drunk blogging, drunk emailing, drunk banter in general, is a real problem in my life, in recent weeks.

Conveniently, New York time is more gracious when I contact people in Chicago, Denver or California when it's late and I've been drinking-- which also leads me to take this opportunity to bitch out all of my friends who have left New York in past months. I don't think drinking is necessarily the problem, as much as I feel very pent up in my sober life, lately. Okay, drinking is a slight problem but for whatever reason when I'm drunk, sobriety seems like the real problem. I've gone about recent days absolutely obsessing, over-thinking, overworking, overanalyzing, and over-stressing.

I feel as though I am not getting exactly who I am across to people anymore and I'm racked with inhibitions. I feel that people who know me, know my patterns and my patterns are only apparent in time, but I am completely frustrated by this because I have met some people lately that I want to readily get to know, or rather that I feel like I already know or have known them for some time.

I have spent days, literally days, on the phone with Meredith analyzing and obsessing and waiting. I'm in some state of purgatory waiting on admission responses for college, overworking, and generally looking to fall in love with something, whether it be a guy or a blueberry muffin, around every fucking corner I turn. And, to accompany all of that, I've relapsed into a very drunk lifestyle garnished with select drugs, caffeine, and cigarettes. I'm also convinced that my hormones are not quite right ever since I did the master cleanse. Not to get into the gritty details of that, but I went from having no sex drive at all to quite honestly breaking two vibrators in three weeks and pushing men around like toys and rediscovering my g-spot.

I woke up this morning after five or so hours of sleep and got high with bartender X because I had the day off and I'm not quite certain we can actually be around each other soberly. Bartender X looks awfully good on paper-- he's sweet, genuine and now makes me coffee in the morning. He's much too sweet for me, really. He pursued me when I didn't want to be pursued because he said that when he wants something, he must go for it. My response to him was literally, "you look like every man I've ever dated," which I was not paying him a compliment in saying. He's tall, lean and a swimmer and resembles my very first boyfriend to the point of brotherhood. Spread out around his room are Henry Miller and Salinger novels and there's a keyboard in the corner with weighted keys. I noticed all of these things quite subtly and not at all in contrived way. Come to think of it, I reckon we might have been giggling and tickling each other earlier today like lovey-dovey couples do.

We also "broke up" last week and it was relatively easy.

Still, he's sweet, kind and sort of trusts me without even knowing it. and I've somehow managed once again to portray myself as the victim, all while being morally corrupt. Basically I look awfully sweet myself through Bartender X's eyes but I'm really not and even though it doesn't really phase me that he is in love with his exgirlfriend still, I pretend it does, all while wearing my own bite marks from my own rendezvous, which I can only half explain where they came from because I was just that fucked up.

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