Part of me misses the days when I could drink like a fish and didn't suffer much as a consequence.
Those days are long gone...
I don't understand the overwhelming need for people to encourage others to get drunk. These days I generally choose to have one or two and I'm done, and yet am often subject to pressure to drink more in order to have fun. I think these days I definitely have more fun without drinking. The next day is more fun for sure.
Friday night I did initially intend to just have a few. During the day I was convinced to have more than a few. Then the earthquake hit and I thought "fuck this shit, I'm getting drunk". At some point between then and the start of the evening, I crashed. I got sad and grumpy and I'm still not sure what turned the switch. This was the initiator for the big bottle of whiskey. At 6pm we started. I cheered up and got into drinking games with gusto. I remember yelling at people to de-sex their cat. I remember being sad and having a bit of a cry on the balcony. Then I remember throwing up and crawling into my friend's bed. I think it was about 10pm. At 1.30am-ish I heard everyone leaving, so I managed to miss the majority of the party. And I still feel a bit seedy today.
Not worth it. Not worth feeling like shit for the rest of the weekend, nor being embarrassed about facing a couple of people at work tomorrow. And all for what?
I think the emo-ness was brought about partly by being on edge after the quakes, but also because in 2 weeks time it will be 10 years since Jeremy passed away. I have been thinking about it but I perhaps had underestimated how upset I am about it. Operation Brave Face is not always so effective after all....
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Saturday, August 10, 2013
And every breath she drew was Hallelujah
A little absent...
A new month, a new job, a new city (well, town...)
I am back working in Palmy, and living at Dads. Being 30 and living with a parent sounds depressing, but it's comfy like a well worn in pair of pyjamas. Living with Dad is not like living with a parent so much, and so I must stop caring about how it sounds, and what other people think, and just do what is right for me. I get to live in a nice (albeit very very cluttered) house, with room to move around, where Diesel is happy, where I can save some money, and with someone who doesn't drive me nuts. It's a pretty sweet deal.
I have started coaching/guidance/"counselling" with Jo, as of last week. In some ways, the fact that she knows me so well will make it easier, but also more difficult since she won't let me get away with stuff. Especially when she already knows most of the answers. And she's so excited about the "journey", which is good, but her enthusiasm also scares me. Our goal is that I will be essentially a "new" person (well, a better and improved, happier version of myself) by this time next year. My "assignment" for this week is to observe myself and my actions from a bystanders point of view. It's a little tricky.
I have essentially said that I will be where I am for the next year, as it is Dad's 60th next July. This could change if an amazing animal job appears or something else pops up, but it's nice to have some semblance of a plan for now.
Back home I have more people - but I am also the only person amongst my friends who is not in a relationship or owning a house or some other grown-up venture. I like being footloose and fancy free and not having anything tying me down, but I also feel a bit meh about it. But then the grass always does appear greener on the other side of the fence. My singledom does have some coupled-up friends envious and potentially re-assessing relationships because they miss that aspect of their lives - so it isn't all it's cracked up to be after all.
I am avoiding thinking too much about guys in general. Obviously I observe them in passing (or follow them with my eyes at car events with Dad - nothing hotter than hot guys that are into hot rods, that also have hot tattoos - heaven!). I am realising that the crushes I have had in the last couple of years have been slightly ridiculous. Guys that I don't stand a chance with, guys I love but can't imagine actually having sex with, guys that I don't even know that well but think that I do (and then realising once I get to know them that I don't really have a crush on them after all). Not to say I will cease developing crushes at any stage, but it's interesting to see how out-of-reach I aim. Guess it's just safer that way - no chance of getting hurt if there is no chance of real involvement in the first place.
What a mish-mash collection of thoughts.
A new month, a new job, a new city (well, town...)
I am back working in Palmy, and living at Dads. Being 30 and living with a parent sounds depressing, but it's comfy like a well worn in pair of pyjamas. Living with Dad is not like living with a parent so much, and so I must stop caring about how it sounds, and what other people think, and just do what is right for me. I get to live in a nice (albeit very very cluttered) house, with room to move around, where Diesel is happy, where I can save some money, and with someone who doesn't drive me nuts. It's a pretty sweet deal.
I have started coaching/guidance/"counselling" with Jo, as of last week. In some ways, the fact that she knows me so well will make it easier, but also more difficult since she won't let me get away with stuff. Especially when she already knows most of the answers. And she's so excited about the "journey", which is good, but her enthusiasm also scares me. Our goal is that I will be essentially a "new" person (well, a better and improved, happier version of myself) by this time next year. My "assignment" for this week is to observe myself and my actions from a bystanders point of view. It's a little tricky.
I have essentially said that I will be where I am for the next year, as it is Dad's 60th next July. This could change if an amazing animal job appears or something else pops up, but it's nice to have some semblance of a plan for now.
Back home I have more people - but I am also the only person amongst my friends who is not in a relationship or owning a house or some other grown-up venture. I like being footloose and fancy free and not having anything tying me down, but I also feel a bit meh about it. But then the grass always does appear greener on the other side of the fence. My singledom does have some coupled-up friends envious and potentially re-assessing relationships because they miss that aspect of their lives - so it isn't all it's cracked up to be after all.
I am avoiding thinking too much about guys in general. Obviously I observe them in passing (or follow them with my eyes at car events with Dad - nothing hotter than hot guys that are into hot rods, that also have hot tattoos - heaven!). I am realising that the crushes I have had in the last couple of years have been slightly ridiculous. Guys that I don't stand a chance with, guys I love but can't imagine actually having sex with, guys that I don't even know that well but think that I do (and then realising once I get to know them that I don't really have a crush on them after all). Not to say I will cease developing crushes at any stage, but it's interesting to see how out-of-reach I aim. Guess it's just safer that way - no chance of getting hurt if there is no chance of real involvement in the first place.
What a mish-mash collection of thoughts.
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