I am not a role model. The children should not read this. Which is only going to make them want to read it even more.
I keep trying to be Not Drunk Anymore. So far, it's not going so well. I typed the title to this entry, which I thought up in a fit of brilliance as I was eating a cheese sandwich and drinking some apple juice on the couch. I've had to re-type nearly every word since then. I don't know how anyone can be an alcoholic and a writer. Maybe it was easier when you did it longhand.
I haven't been drunk in nearly two years. Or something like that. I couldn't really do math right now. Or ever.
Today was a good day. I woke up at 6:00 (what the fuck, dude? that's when I usually go to bed) and wrote. Good ideas. Solved some fiction problems. Let's hope it sticks.
So then I had some crazy dreams (even while drunk I won't spill these beans to the general public) and then kept thinking in some bizzare paranoid state that the person the dreams were about could freaking read my mind. Or maybe I talk in my sleep and his room is above mine. In which case I should just kill myself now if he just heard the phone conversation I had with my best friend. If it had a refrain, that refrain would be, "Give me a baby!"
Moving on. Had a workshop, hung out with a friend, formal final dinner, and then graduation and then the newbie reading, of which I was part. Awesome. Receptive crowd, and my favorite thing ever happened -- a person I'd never met before came over and said that she really liked a specific poem. That takes a lot, man. To listen to a poem is hard work, which sounds stupid, but it really is hard because there's so much in so few words. You have to really pay attention. Anyway, I got some really nice compliments afterward. And then everyone hit the bar. I hit it particularly hard, although I'm starting to sober up now. I base this on a reduced amount of backspacing and correcting.
None of this has a point. I just sort of needed to do something while I was waiting for my cheese sandwich to take effect. I have to be at a lecture at 10:30 and then drive back to Pittsburgh tomorrow. What the fuck is wrong with me? I don't know how anyone can do this all the time. To repeat my most-used phrase this week, Dude, whatever. I even said it in class today.
I clearly have problems. Although nothing that can't be solved by a cheese sandwich and some apple juice.
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3 comments:
I felt like I was drunk just reading this! haha
I've been excerpting a few of your blog posts on my xanga so you'd catch more of the public eye, but I think I'll pass on this one lol
Sobriety is for QUITTERS! ;-)
I tend to feel like I'm more profound when I drink. I've not been completely drunk in a while, though. Lately, I like to enjoy a light yet steady buzz in the evening. Maybe I'm becoming an alcoholic. I dunno. It's a lot of fun.
Sometimes, when I am feeling rather low about things just before bed, I'll pop a muscle relaxer or an ativan to smooth things out before I black out for the night. It's a lot of fun.
It's much better than sobbing uncontrollably into a pillow while thinking about how I shoulda done something more with my life while I was still young and then shoving my head in the oven; it's electric, so I'd only get a dark tan.
Well, I considered broiling myself to death at least once in the last week. Although now I just feel excited.
Last night was NOT fun. Or rather, it was a lot of fun right up until the point where I projectile vomited through my nose from 4:30 to 6:00, then debated between attending a panel at 10:30 and then driving all the way across NJ and PA or just drowning myself in the toilet. I'm still not sure I made the right decision.
Although my bed is going to feel freaking awesome, and if anyone wakes me up for any reason -- including that the house is on fire -- even two seconds before I wake up naturally, it'll be the last thing he or she does.
Get an MFA in Creative Writing. All the cool kids are doing it.
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