Monday, October 1, 2007

Alcoholism rant...

I have a penchant for alcoholics. Why, I do not know, because I always leave them, screaming “GET SOBER”. If I got sober, they can do it too. It’s really not that hard. Want to know how I did it? Every time someone offered me something alcoholic in nature, I said “no, thank you”. See? Easy. And I was a serious little drunkie. Anyway, now I’m trying to avoid the ones who drink too much. I’ve got a lot of experience with drinkers, and I’m tired of it.My ex fianc´┐Że showed up at my workplace drunk once, back when I worked at a Tucson grocery store. It was midnight and he staggered in, having broken his promise to me not to drink and drive. I took his keys from him, pitched them in the bushes and let him spend a half hour in the dark trying to find them. At least he was appropriately apologetic the next day. Eventually, he fell off the wagon and started drinking heavily again. Then he would call to scream profanities at me and tell me I was cheating. And then I left him.Then there was P, who got wasted one night and, while I was driving us home, stuck his face in my cleavage, then tried to get out of the moving vehicle. While we were on the freeway. Seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess.Also J, who had an excellent job in finance. He woke up in the middle of the night/early hours of the morning puking many a time, while I shouted “I TOLD you, you IDIOT,” from the bedroom. I glowered at him over the breakfast table the next morning. “I can’t believe I am stranded here with you for another 48 hours”.Finally, and most recently, there was A, who was the worst of all. Great job, great money, constantly drinking. He came back from Vegas with alcohol poisoning. We went out for his friend’s birthday and he was laying there half dead the next day. He regularly picked me up on Sundays hung over and nauseous. The final straw was the day we were moving all his things into his new apartment. I was getting to the end of my rope with him, and the rope finally snapped when I had to move half his things in myself, and clean the whole place myself, because he was in the bathroom throwing up repeatedly, when he had promised me the night before he would only have one drink.That’s my problem with drinkers. They will look you in the eye and flat out lie to you.

Did I turn into a pumpkin at midnight?

The Boxer… is awesome. He blew all the other guys out of the water by allowing me to be a total dork last night and being one right along with me. We had Date #2, and were together for nearly five hours, and neither of us wanted to go when it was finally midnight. Great conversation, laughs, air hockey… very fun. Best part? This is the second time we’ve been out, and this time we were in a place with a bar, and he hasn’t drank a single alcoholic thing. Oh yes. Keeper.We went to dinner and a movie followed by this arcade type thing, where I showed off my complete ineptness with a gun (I died within approximately 40 seconds on every shooting game), my awesomeness at motorcycle games, and how much I suck at the driving car games (I finally gave up, smashed my car into my fourth ambulance of the night, and tried to reach across and cover his eyes). Also held my own in air hockey and watched him do this virtual boxing match, which was quite possibly the hottest thing ever. Something about a good looking guy getting all physical… mmm… anyway, I digress.The problem is this. He likes me, he’s made that clear. He wants to see me again. He pretty much told me we’re dating. But not even an attempt at a kiss goodnight. I even went in for a second hug goodbye, did the looking up at him thing… nothing. Just, “Make sure to text me so I know you got home safe”. Well, that and “When you walk away I’m totally going to check out your ass”. But still. Not even a hint at a kiss. I'm not going for some long goodnight kiss, on a second date. I'm going for a little peck goodbye. And I got nada! So this, of course, has sent me into an OCD downward spiral, in which I go over everything possible for the whole night to determine if maybe I was getting the big kiss-off. I’m not. And I’m confused. I don't kiss on first dates... I have this thing about touching humans I hardly know. But second date, especially when you're getting along so well... ::Sigh:: If it happens again on the third date I'm going to flip.

Did I turn into a pumpkin at midnight?

The Boxer… is awesome. He blew all the other guys out of the water by allowing me to be a total dork last night and being one right along with me. We had Date #2, and were together for nearly five hours, and neither of us wanted to go when it was finally midnight. Great conversation, laughs, air hockey… very fun. Best part? This is the second time we’ve been out, and this time we were in a place with a bar, and he hasn’t drank a single alcoholic thing. Oh yes. Keeper.We went to dinner and a movie followed by this arcade type thing, where I showed off my complete ineptness with a gun (I died within approximately 40 seconds on every shooting game), my awesomeness at motorcycle games, and how much I suck at the driving car games (I finally gave up, smashed my car into my fourth ambulance of the night, and tried to reach across and cover his eyes). Also held my own in air hockey and watched him do this virtual boxing match, which was quite possibly the hottest thing ever. Something about a good looking guy getting all physical… mmm… anyway, I digress.The problem is this. He likes me, he’s made that clear. He wants to see me again. He pretty much told me we’re dating. But not even an attempt at a kiss goodnight. I even went in for a second hug goodbye, did the looking up at him thing… nothing. Just, “Make sure to text me so I know you got home safe”. Well, that and “When you walk away I’m totally going to check out your ass”. But still. Not even a hint at a kiss. I'm not going for some long goodnight kiss, on a second date. I'm going for a little peck goodbye. And I got nada! So this, of course, has sent me into an OCD downward spiral, in which I go over everything possible for the whole night to determine if maybe I was getting the big kiss-off. I’m not. And I’m confused. I don't kiss on first dates... I have this thing about touching humans I hardly know. But second date, especially when you're getting along so well... ::Sigh:: If it happens again on the third date I'm going to flip.

Saturday, September 1, 2007

I call bullshit!

The newest Bachelor is a liar (surprise!). Liar liar pants on fire! He’s a ‘self made millionaire’ who would give anything to have a wife. Says he wants to be a perfect husband, a good father, blah blah blah. If you’re this awesome, why do you need to be on some reality show to get a girl? I never watch the Bachelor or Bachelorette series; the backstabbing and lying upsets me and makes me think I should never date again. But tonight I wanted to find out about this new Bachelor, mainly because it looks like someone shrunk his head. I guess I just can’t comprehend how he can go from ‘I want to be a great husband’ to ‘Sure, I’ll suck the lime and tequila out of your cleavage’. From ‘I’m a respectful Southern gentleman’ to ‘I’m going to kiss a dozen different girls in one night’. I don’t get it.Are guys really like this? My cousins don’t do this, my guy friends don’t either. Or, at least they’re smart enough to avoid doing it around recording equipment. I swear, if I find out that all the good guys are gone… I’m going to take my best friend as my domestic partner and never look back. Although we did inadvertently swap spit once, while licking and wiping our fingers around a plate of powdered sugar, I’m pretty sure neither of us will be doing body shots off anyone any time soon.In other news… since we’re talking dating… I now am on two different dating websites, and I’m not allowed to say either name anymore (you’ll have noticed I deleted previous references), because now my little bitty freelance article has become this huge blown up experiment in dating, relating, and figuring out how the two sites work. I have some good options on both sites-had a date from one this weekend (Mr. Literary-he reads books!). Not really anything spectacular, but better than some have been. I have two awesome guys I’m talking to on the newer site, they will be The Boxer and The Pretty Boy. I have a little bit of an internet crush on both, now lets see if I can score some dates. I’ve already had a few too many-I accidentally texted the wrong guy Sunday night and was almost busted. I am so not good at this. I’m weeding out the extras; I’ll come up with my list of contenders soon. The Pretty Boy and The Boxer are totally in the final cut.

So. Angry.

At this particular moment, I am pissed. I spent all day today cleaning a certain house and doing laundry. I am not going to go into details on what the house looked like. But I am pissed. I can’t get this out of my head. The fucking house looked like it should have been condemned. I want to know what kind of a person can let their house get that disgusting. I want to know what kind of person can allow their children to live in a place that I wouldn’t even let a cockroach live in.I want to know what I can do to make this black anger subside. Because right now, it’s eating at me. I haven’t been this angry in a long time. And I cannot remember how to deal with it. I feel an actual urge for physical violence.

Malibu and rum, please.

I freely admit to having a drinking problem before I was old enough the buy the alcohol. I’m okay with that. What I am not okay with is my inability to stop at just one drink, and my nasty tendency to crawl into a Malibu bottle and stay there when things go badly in my life. So, in an effort to combat this weakness of mine I just plain don’t drink for the most part. I’ve drank about 4 times in the past two years, and all four times it’s ended badly. Now, my reaction to everything is to become violently ill. If I get stressed, if I’m upset, sometimes just because it’s Tuesday. My last ex nicknamed me ‘Pukey’ right before I broke up with him. Turns out he was the reason I was pukey. Anyway, if I drink… it’s guaranteed I’ll be sick. On any given day there’s a good 25 % chance I’ll end up on my knees. Add one drink of alcohol and that ups to about 80%. Add two or more drinks and it’s guaranteed I will be locking myself into a bathroom. You could place a bet on it.So, I was an idiot two days ago when I went to a dive bar and crawled into my Malibu bottle yet again because I was upset. I was with friends, I was playing pool, I was refusing to drink. Then I said “Well, just one”. And I lied.I hate myself when I drink. I get stupid and do things I wouldn’t ordinarily do. I say idiotic things. My grammatical structure gets shot to shit and I use words incorrectly. I am the Human Dictionary/Thesaurus! I am not supposed to do that! I don’t know why I ever even say yes to that first drink. In the back of my head a voice is screaming at me not to do it, that I’ll end up staggering out into the night in a few hours, after I say “Malibu and rum” instead of “Malibu and pineapple”.Ridiculous and embarrassing.

Wouldn't change this for the world...

Within a week of moving back home, I was sent on my first mission. Acquire ‘The Boys’ (My uncle Darien’s sons) from Nana’s, get them clothes from their house, and bring them back to my house, where they would be staying for the weekend. The kids’ parents had just made a decision to separate, and our normally bright, happy boys were quiet now when they talked, and they stared at the floor. Instead of fighting on the way out to the car, the quietly filed in and sat in the backseat. This was nothing like how they normally are. What could I do to make it better?I could speed, that’s what I could do. Going through the neighborhood to get to my uncle’s house, I hit every speed bump at about 30-35 mph. The first bump, they giggled. I rolled down the windows, cranked up the music, and yelled for them to hold on. The second bump, they began to laugh, as “Party Like a Rock Star” blared. By the time we got to the house, they were screaming with laughter as they tumbled out of the car.That’s when I knew that uprooting and coming back here was worth it. I also knew it was worth it when I was right here to help my 15-year old cousin with her speech for Student Council. When I was here for my uncle’s birthday last night. It’s worth it when Branden looks up at me, and with his little stutter says, “You know, you’re kind of a cool cousin”. When Payton runs out of the house and hugs me when I pick her up for our ‘girl’s day’ to see a movie and get lunch. When I stop at Sonic to get all of us limeades as the youngest boy reads to me from a story book in the backseat.I left behind in-state tuition, a boyfriend, good friends, and a good job for this. I don’t think I would ever change my mind and leave here to get that all back. I am most definitely here to stay.