An hour ago I passed out, naked and drunk. 60 short minutes later and here I am, barley alive and operating. How (really?) I managed to pull myself together this morning is nothing short of a miracle, because last night was the epitome of insane.
To be quiet frank, Im still a little drunk. Eyes are blurry, mouth has the reminisce of wine, head is dizzy. How will I possibly survive this day? I can barley even sit up right now, honestly, typing is the only thing keeping me from slouching back into a comfortable sleep-like position in this very stiff chair. I am a collasal mess. Quarter till 8 my alarm rang, scarring the shit out of me and prompting me to throw on the closet thing I could find. Unfortunatley for moi that happened to be a sheer yellow tank over a black lace bra. This, plus attempting to sprint (hungover) to work, led to a lot of honks from passing cabbies, which only deteriorated my already negative mood. I mean, lets be honest, is it really crucial to work out at 8 AM on a sun morning? I think the same rule of thumb for cocktails should apply to working out on weekends...at least wait till noon. Now, feeling ridiculously underdressed and underslept (I made that one up) I sit here, as people give me the judgemental glance passing by. And sadly, I dont think the largest coffee can cure this one.
Should I even dulve into the grusome details of last night? God, what an adventure! One of those infamous NY nights, where you seem to feel ontop of the world (at least till morning). I dont want to get into specifics, but ah, what the hell, this blog is relitivley annoymous so why not? Where to start though? (head pounding). I suppose I shall start with the beginging, logically. Got off of work, worked out (boring), showered, dressed (MJ top, old JC vintage wedges, green denim) and hopped in a cab over to P's. Havent seen him in so long. I just love catching up with old friends. It feels like your rediscovering a part of your past, youve long sinced buried or forgotten about. Its sweet, at best, to be reminded of a more innocent, simpler time. After all, I shared a whole summer with him, and I do truley feel a deep, meaningful connection to him. Its funny how this sense memory work we do in class really does ring true to real life. Case and point: the simple smell of Ps apt brought a flow of unexpected emotions. Suddenly I was there again, 17, carefree, expeirencing my first dose of life. I just love it. All of it. Anyway. I cant get into what happened next. Let just say it involved an Spanish ambassador, Las Vegas, and a few famous people. I dont kid. Im not that good.

Oh gosh. Customers giving me attitude. absolute last thing I need now. Haha I turned the radio on showtune and claim I Dont know how to switch it, just to piss them off. Wow, thats sad. Change it soon haha


And then, drunken at 5 AM, I suddenly was motivated to call another certain someone from my past. Why? Bc Ive been fantasizing about him for weeks. GOD I HOPE no one reads tthis. Reminder to self; delete when completley sobered up. But yes, my drunken state propelled me to make the bold move (for me at least) and telling him exactley how I felt, well, at least as much as I could articulate. Truth is hes the only person Ive really ever been deeply attracted to. Physically that is. And not for lack of gorgeous guys, but he just had some sort of charm (?) I guess about him. Not at all arogant, like most the men I meet. Love? No. Hell, I cant tell you the first thing about that. Lust, I could write a massive novel on, but true, deep, meaningful love? Im blind.