Some underworld spy, or the wife of a close friend...a wife of a close friend

[norman_chicago]

I figure I owe an accountable explanation of the past 5 days, in hindsight. It is amazing how things can be so wonderful and so confusing and so terrible and so...everything. All at once! And equally striking is how (apparently) communal this feeling is. Which is odd in and of itself, considering who everyone is and what everyone is doing and what will happen in a month, and what will happen in a year, and so on and so forth. But, seriously. If you've been around me lately and/or care at all, I really suggest that you take the time to read this. It would mean a lot to me. And plus, at the end you will be like "wow, I know Tom better now." Which might mean, you're terrified/laughing hysterically/crying. Regardless, I need to do this.

And so, let me spill my guts onto my blog like the junior high girl that I probably am.



Starting on Thursday.

It was like any other day, really. I worked. On a whim I called Mark Ozeroff and thought maybe we could go grab dinner. On an equally whimsical chance, we went to the China Star and did whatever happens when you get food. We met Bryk and Danny, and there was a large amount of nothing happening. We sat at Java House for a good while, telling funny stories and the like. Somehow, it came about that Ozeroff still had his hidden bottle of Jose Cuervo. Apparently, he hides his inventory from people a lot. Danny offered his house, we were bored, we went. We made a pit-stop for the booze and the limes. We got to Danny's at 1150, and by 1220, Jose had completely been depleted. It was fun, just the four of us. Loud, probably, after a while. Apparently, after I left, Bryk got really sick and yakked all over Ozeroff's driveway. Dang. Finally around 145 I left and made the mistake of driving myself home, which, I probably shouldnt've done. Nothing happened, it was fine, and I wasn't that bad really. But I was lucky, and it's something that I won't be doing in the future. Thursday night was good. It had been like 2.5 months since I'd had any liquor. Well, except for that minor incident at Jamie's last weekend. Whatever.

Friday, I worked. It was work, you know. Sunny. Good. I was still intoxicated when I woke up, just a tiny bit. Because of my anti-hangover measures, I had an amazing graceful transition from intoxicated to sober around noon. Completely painless. Friday, Ozeroff called me and wanted to meet at China Star again. I laughed, and agreed. Jamie and Erich met us too, and it was fun. We got word through Bryk that Danny was having people over. I called Kate, and then all of a sudden Carmen was buying us more Jose. We met Kate at the Liquor House and Carmen opted out for a handle of UV Blue rather than Jose because we didn't give her enough money. Kate took me home to drop my car off and then we went to Danny's. It was so much fun, as always. Kat and Emma and Heidi and Thomas and Sam and Bryk and Kelli and Mark and Kate and Siggy and Elliot and everyone was there. Kat has this irrational giddy joy of wasting people, and in about an hour and a half I had had seventeen shots of UV Blue. It was fun. There was lots of weed (I don't do that), and lots of alcohol, and lots of good people and fun to be had. Bryk was wasted, again. I guess we were mostly clinging to each other and rolling around outside and talking about Polaris and volcanoes, because we are just that cool. It was a very good night. Until about 1. Kelli and Danny drove Kate and I home, and I stumbled in and it just so happened that my mother was right there, doing dishes, at fucking 1AM. This is why domestic relationship issues are bad. But also, it was good, because she is in bad moods constantly and a slightly-delinquent teenager is probably low on her list of concerns. She wasn't happy. She just said "I don't approve" and "You're only seventeen" and "I don't like the way your habits are changing". To which I replied "yes, for the first time in my life I am happy and getting good grades and have two jobs and earn more money than you. My life is taking a turn for the worst". To which she replied "I'm not gonna be an asshole and ground you, but I hope you're hungover blind tomorrow". More self-deprecation online, and then...pass out.

Saturday was bad. I worked again, and I was hungover. Not terrible, but enough that David Levy laughed his ass off at me, especially when "Tequila Sunrise" came on the radio. Finally, about 1, I was suddenly sober and fine and it was glorious. The sun was bright and the sky was golden and the water noises were everywhere and oooh, it was a wonderful moment. After work I called Mark and Bryk and we met at China Star for threepeat. Obviously, by now, it was totally obvious that we were all pushing it and doing something we'd never done before and probably not a whole lot of people do, really. Danny and Kat and Thomas and Sam and Kate and Baker (yes, Baker) met us and then it was 10 and the Chinese people kicked us out. We walked around the ped-mall some, and all of a sudden Ozeroff had smirnoff. I'm telling you, this kid is....wow. Sam's parents weren't home and after much coaxing by everyone, we went to Sam's house and soon were stocked with 42 beers and a happening bottle of Smirnoff Orange. "Alcoholapalooza '05: Because There's Absolutely Nothing To Do", as it had been deemed, was officially underway. Bryk followed Baker and I to our houses where we dropped our cars off and then drove us back to Sam's, because he is a great guy. I had to park a block from my house so my mom wouldn't be suspicious, and I also had to take it easy due to the last night's happenings. She would interrogate me when I got home, so I had to be prepared. We got back to Sam's and I had 6 or 7 beers in 45 minutes, doing the chug thing that everyone thinks is a talent, and soon was thoroughly inebriated. Baker had like 5 shots of Smirnoff and was wasted, completely and totally OFF his ass. He is a lightweight. Heidi and Kat were there, which was fun. Baker gave lapdances to Sam's sister and her friend, the 21 year-olds. I spent some time in a cage. I felt bad because I had to go home and confront my mother and my car was parked in front of Eric McCreedy's house and Bryk and Danny were sober. Bryk drove our sorry asses home, Baker almost got caught (which would've been the end of his life and everyone he was with) and then I went home and totally fooled my mother. Again, self-deprecating livejournal, and then pass out. I wasn't that bad, though, so it wasn't really a big deal.

Sunday I was called into work unexpectedly and so I got more sun and poolage in. I love my job. I came home and douched around by myself for a while (my parents were at brother's baseball thing in Manchester), and then...China Star. With Mark and Bryk. On the way downtown, as the golden sun was setting over the evapotranspirated haze of the endless Iowan landscape, as wonderful music poured from the radio, as the cirrus clouds shearing off of Hurricane Dennis so many hundreds of miles to the south spewed silently and gracefully in pink across the skies...I realized how incredibly happy I was, and I swirved all over the road and honked my horn and screamed. It was happier than I'd ever been drunk. It was happier than I'd been in a long, long time. It was like philosogasming with Matt again, it was like taking off out of Cedar Rapids and watching all things home fly away beneath your feet, it was like setting eyes upon the Rocky Mountains, the Atlantic, Manhattan, The Pacific Ocean! It was incredible. There are simply no words. And then, the moment was over. But I was satisfied.

It was night four, and it was obvious that the streak was hard to fulfill. We made plans for Monay and Tuesday, which Ozeroff noted meant then it was only two nights until the week was over. We did absolutely nothing for a long time, and Ozeroff was pissed because probably he is an alcoholic. I ended up heading to Bryk's house and messing around with his sound system and talking about how strange life is and chilling until Danny arrived at some point. We continued to have nothing to do, so we decided to yoink a bottle of wine from Bryk's house and get some cigars. Unfortunately, Bryk didn't have nearly as much wine as he thought, and the bowl was closed on account of it being a Sunday night during the summer. We did more nothing, and found the Mayflies terraforming the earth, and we found their breeding grounds at the Java House (don't ask) and then we met Bernice and Katie for a little bit at Panchero's. It was about 11 by now, and the night seemed to be winding down. The streak was going to have a big hole on the Sabbath. Suddenly, Ozeroff was not off with these crazies who I've never met, but home alone and bored. Suddenly, we were sitting in Ozeroff's living room. Suddenly, there was a bottle of *amazing* Irish whiskey sitting in front of us. So we started at about 1150 and by 1220, again, the whiskey was gone. Nick Boyson came over, and my God....God Almighty. It was terrible. I didn't realize just how drunk I was until I stood up. I was supposed to drive myself home, too, which couldn't happen. Again, sober Bryk and Danny come to the rescue. I felt extra bad. Like, really bad. Here I am, completely off my ass, idiotically drunk...making these guys drive my sorry ass all the way across town in my car. God, how terrible. All I want is to be an equal, which can't happen when you're poisoning yourself into an oblivion. Feeling subsequent is never good. Still, after I'd gotten home and somehow talked to my mom in bed and fooled her, I came downstairs and really...it felt like it was almost a trip. It felt beyond drunk. I was having trouble not screaming and talking and blabbering, and I was rolling all over the floor and trying to work the computer...it was so, so, amazing. But so, so disgusting in hindsight. I can't even believe.... wow. I woke up this morning with a mediocre hangover and a three hour indoor shift staring me in the face. It was really bad from 9 to 11, but after 11 I was mostly fine. I am still recovering. It is 2 in the afternoon. And Mark has two bottles of Jose.

***

So, as an epilogue, some thoughts and conclusions and summaries:

• This streak is unhealthy. And it is gross. Especially looking at it from this new, very sober perspective. But it is fun, and there really isn't much else to do. And I am with people that I want to be with, all the time, so...even though I do feel a very slight, but very profound something deep inside myself...something awkward, residually messing with me after four nights of binge drinking....even though this is all true, it is very hard to not enjoy myself and to deny a part in whatever happens tonight or the next night or whatever. I work. I go home. I spend time with my friends. I sleep. I work. I go home. I spend time with my friends. I sleep. It is the cycle. Regardless of how the next few nights go, though....Thursday will be good. It will be a night of communal sobriety. The drunk or the sober, the beer or the liquor, the driving or riding, none of that matters. All that matters is the communal part. I do it for the people that are involved, not for myself. And when it starts to seem less communal (like last night), I get deeply unsettled.
• I don't know what has happened in my life. I don't know what happened in elementary school. I don't know what happened in junior high. I don't know what has happened in these last few months, since I got back from New York City. I don't know what's happened the last few days, I don't know what will happen this week, and I don't know what will happen in the coming months and years. I am so, so unbelievably lost. And yet, I am completely conscious and aware of why things are the way they are for me. And, coincidentally, at this point, I don't think I've ever been so satisfied in my life. And I feel like, maybe, it will only get better. Until September, when the winds turn out of Canada and the leaves start turning and the footballs start flying and the calculus starts raping me. What stands in the way of this? August.
• It's always August.
• I had a false impression of things just a few days ago, even. There is never a lack of judgement, there is never a lack of drama, there is never a lack of harm or hurt or confusion or hard feelings. People fascinate me.
• Amelia gets back on the 18th.
• I think about everything. Too much. Ask me about anything, and I could write something ten times this length about it. Ask me something, sometime. I still haven't decided if this is a blessing or a curse. Actually, no, I know exactly what it is. It is a blessing. My life IS. I can't imagine it any other way. Hell is Heaven and Heaven is Hell and all that is, is. And I wouldn't have it any other way. And this confuses me. Endlessly.
• Iowa is beautiful, no matter what they say.
• I swear that my intentions are completely, blinding white and pure and good. Unfortunately, I just have no idea how to act.
• There is something very graceful and serene about aging, and old age. If I make it that far, it will be very good.
• Don't worry about me.
• I actually do love you all, even when I'm not completely drunk. Probably. If I talk about you in my livejournal, then I love you. Probably. Probably more than is healthy. Probably.

So, in conclusion: I have no idea.

*****

Don cha wish ur gurlfriend waz hott lk me?

*****

SONG AT END OF POST: Bebel Gilberto - Mais Feliz

WORD OF THE DAY: senile