.: everybody in the club gettin tipsy :.
I love it when just for being Tuesday it's an excuse to get drunk.
I got home and my roommate insisted that we go to Baby A's for margaritas because it was happy hour all day, who was I to say no?
David and Claudia met us there, and we had good times. 4 or 5 (one begins to lose count) margaritas later we came home to rest up for the night ahead of us. Well, Alisha did anyway. David, Claudia and I kept drinking.
When we were finally ready to go downtown, we headed to Aquarium, Library, Coppertank (I think?) and then I think we went home. No wait, I just remembered, we definitely went to Coppertank, I think. I think after Coppertank we just went home. I think.
Anyway, Miguel called me around 1ish at work and I told him I would call him back later that night, and that's just what I did. I was pretty drunk, I called him from the parking lot of Baby A's to tell him that I was heavily intoxicated and that I would just see him tomorrow. Before I can get that out though I ask what he's doing and he says he just took 2 xanax with his roommate Ben (I HATE BEN) and will not be seeing me tonight and just staying there and not driving anywhere. What is the fucking deal with this drug use? Didn’t he learn his lesson? He was ARRESTED for this kind of shit, he is still doing it like it's fucking nothing. But I was drunk and more tolerable, so I said just not to go anywhere and I would see him today. He said ok and that he loved me. Whatever. That phone call was around 8:00.
So, in my drunken thought process, around 9:30 I call him again to tell him I am going downtown and just to say hi and to check on him. Deny (his roommate) answers the phone and tells me "Miguel and Ben left about 30 minutes ago, I don't know where they went." How fucking stupid is that? Honestly, I just don't get it. You take drugs and then you DRIVE, yes, that makes perfect sense to me. But at the same time, I have a feeling he was there and just didn't want to talk. It took Deny forever to answer the phone, which probably means that she got up off the couch, went to look at the caller ID, then asked him if he wanted to talk to me. Ok, so I was drunk and thought up that scenario, but that's how I saw it.
Anywho, when I'm mad, when I'm sad, especially when I'm the combination of drunk with those feelings, I do stupid shit. Let's just say I made out with my friend...a lot. I feel really shitty about it, so please no comments on "how can you ask all of this of Miguel when he can't trust you and blah blah blah". I feel bad, and that's not something I usually feel, so that just shows me that I really do like this asshole of a boyfriend. Dammit.
Fucking A, I seriously hate having to have him on my mind at all times, and I really hate talking about him all the time, but it's the vicious cycle of me thinking about him and me writing what I think about and that brings me here, whining about my fucking boyfriend on my journal.
I don't think I am going to stay at work all day, fuck it. I'm not in the mood to be here. I need to go home and sleep a lot. Then I need to work out. These thighs won't get thinner by just wishing them thin. Damn swimsuit season; the trip to Florida is worth it though, I think.
Oh wow, I just re-read this entry, and I sound like such a fucking whiny girl. That's pathetic. I need to write more meaningful entries than "my boyfriend is an asshole, listen to me complain". I'm spent.
I got home and my roommate insisted that we go to Baby A's for margaritas because it was happy hour all day, who was I to say no?
David and Claudia met us there, and we had good times. 4 or 5 (one begins to lose count) margaritas later we came home to rest up for the night ahead of us. Well, Alisha did anyway. David, Claudia and I kept drinking.
When we were finally ready to go downtown, we headed to Aquarium, Library, Coppertank (I think?) and then I think we went home. No wait, I just remembered, we definitely went to Coppertank, I think. I think after Coppertank we just went home. I think.
Anyway, Miguel called me around 1ish at work and I told him I would call him back later that night, and that's just what I did. I was pretty drunk, I called him from the parking lot of Baby A's to tell him that I was heavily intoxicated and that I would just see him tomorrow. Before I can get that out though I ask what he's doing and he says he just took 2 xanax with his roommate Ben (I HATE BEN) and will not be seeing me tonight and just staying there and not driving anywhere. What is the fucking deal with this drug use? Didn’t he learn his lesson? He was ARRESTED for this kind of shit, he is still doing it like it's fucking nothing. But I was drunk and more tolerable, so I said just not to go anywhere and I would see him today. He said ok and that he loved me. Whatever. That phone call was around 8:00.
So, in my drunken thought process, around 9:30 I call him again to tell him I am going downtown and just to say hi and to check on him. Deny (his roommate) answers the phone and tells me "Miguel and Ben left about 30 minutes ago, I don't know where they went." How fucking stupid is that? Honestly, I just don't get it. You take drugs and then you DRIVE, yes, that makes perfect sense to me. But at the same time, I have a feeling he was there and just didn't want to talk. It took Deny forever to answer the phone, which probably means that she got up off the couch, went to look at the caller ID, then asked him if he wanted to talk to me. Ok, so I was drunk and thought up that scenario, but that's how I saw it.
Anywho, when I'm mad, when I'm sad, especially when I'm the combination of drunk with those feelings, I do stupid shit. Let's just say I made out with my friend...a lot. I feel really shitty about it, so please no comments on "how can you ask all of this of Miguel when he can't trust you and blah blah blah". I feel bad, and that's not something I usually feel, so that just shows me that I really do like this asshole of a boyfriend. Dammit.
Fucking A, I seriously hate having to have him on my mind at all times, and I really hate talking about him all the time, but it's the vicious cycle of me thinking about him and me writing what I think about and that brings me here, whining about my fucking boyfriend on my journal.
I don't think I am going to stay at work all day, fuck it. I'm not in the mood to be here. I need to go home and sleep a lot. Then I need to work out. These thighs won't get thinner by just wishing them thin. Damn swimsuit season; the trip to Florida is worth it though, I think.
Oh wow, I just re-read this entry, and I sound like such a fucking whiny girl. That's pathetic. I need to write more meaningful entries than "my boyfriend is an asshole, listen to me complain". I'm spent.