We kink on the whole 1950s household dynamic like woah.
drinking
Beefeater is my gin of choice, so this is clearly prophetic.
Out to celebrate my birthday tonight with the people I love.
Thank you for all the lovely messages, followers.
“July Flame
Ashes of a secret heart
Falling in my lemonade
Unslakable thirsting in the backyard.”
Playdate with Popcorn, Part Two
One of the best parts of my visit to see Penthouse was that I got to see one of my friends from Ivy University who graduated this past spring. She now works in Penthouse’s area and so I ventured off with her for a few hours before the playdate to have a drink.
Of course, I couldn’t keep my mind off of my plans for later. And, even if I only had one drink, apparently I have no sense of subtlety.
“What’s going on?” My friend finally asked, giving me a nudge. “You’ve got that little sparkle in your eye.”
Hello, vices.
Sometimes, I yearn for the little touches above the grandiose acts. I want to experience that small, swimmy feeling of being told what I am going to be drinking and how much, of having it ordered for me while I just sit there in silence. Sometimes, it’s really those little things that tug at me.
So, last night my friend turned 21. Since I gave up drinking for Lent, my tolerance is now shot to shit and I get drunker faster. Much, much faster. With much, much less alcohol.
With an amount consumed that would normally not do too much damage, I found myself accidentally drunk on a Tuesday. Whoops.
Of course, naturally, I run into that guy from my frat and say some stupid stuff. Just par for the course. But, he texted me this morning to make sure I was okay, which was sweet of him.
But, ugh, too many times he’s encountered me drunk and I don’t want him to just think I’m a mess. He sees me sober a lot, but he misses me somehow on nights out when I manage to keep my shit together (the greater percentage of nights out). He asked me to formals recently and I consented, but of course now I’m worried I’ll wind up drunk and making a fool of myself there.
Part of me wants to just make him go away before I continue to just mess up over and over. He’s way too nice and understanding about the whole thing and I worry eventually I’ll push that kindness to its breaking point and he’ll just get sick of me.
Sigh.
If only the pre-games at my university were like this. Seriously.