I had an awesome couple days recently, but it sucked at the same time. Work is work, it kinda sucks, but its good to be off unemployment, and actually having spending money beyond rent and ramen for almost 5 months. I can actually save money now, and paying tuition, and a biking vacation actually seems possible now.
This semester is almost over. My business plan has been turned in, even though we didn't manage to completely finish it. We had a lot of problems getting together to work on it around everyones class and work schedules. No surprise that it turned into a last minute cram session, complete with compatability issues between my laptop with open office, and the Vista computers at school (that we had to print through) with Microshit word. I have a take home final to finish by thursday, an in class exam on monday night, 2 finals on thursday, and a presentation on thursday, and I'm done. Plus working 30 hours a week. I don't expect to sleep much in the next week.
Finally onto the real topic of this post... FKA and liking me. I've randomly been thinking a lot in the past week about my gender and sexuality. In the past 6 years or so I've come out several times. I've changed my mind between Bisexual and a lesbian, and again to queer after dating an FTM transexual. I've questioned gender a lot too. I was raised steryotipically feminine, including ballet lessons, figure skating, and girl scouts. I dated guys because it was expected of me, and I didn't question it.
Thats all changed though. i finally acknowledged my attraction to women, I came out, I rejected the ideas of "how women are supposed to look and behave", and began to identify as queer, androgenous, and pansexual. So anyway, I've been thinking more about gender and shit, and after tonights amazing experience, I think I've found my self. at least for now.
I have bound my chest on occasion, treating it as a social experience, observing peoples reactions, and judging how I felt about it. I realized that it felt right to me, and that I feel the most comfortable in the grey area. A couple days ago I decided to bind full time, and for the past couple days I have honestly felt comfortable with myslef and my appearance.
Went out to FKA (Formerly Known As) at Big Chicks tonight, with my tits strapped down, and hair gelled up, and fit right in with the transmen, and all the self consious-ness I had felt going out before was gone. I got checked out by gay men and femme chicks, was told several times how cute girls thought I was. If it wasn't for work in the morning, I could have easily hooked up tonight. I did get a hot make out session with a super cute girl tonight though, so still a win.
Newton, Andrew and Tito were amazing tonight too. Also commenting on how I'm a cute boy, and randomly referring to me as he. Newton said that he noticed i seemed more comfortable tonight than he has seen me in a long time. I feel like I;m kinda rambling here, so I'll try to get to some kinda conclusion here...
I'm a biologically female, genderqueer boi. I'm stuck in the middle between male and female, without feeling like either is correct. I'm me.
5.08.2009
3.18.2009
I suck at life aparently
I think i take the internet way too seriously. Its fucked up. I was all motivated to work on my website, have a theme in mind, started making some images, and it sucks. What the fuck am I thinking.
I finally have something good going for me, a really good opportunity to get an internship designing a website that could lead to a real job, and I feel like I'm already fucking it all up. My work is all over the place. I have no real style to it at all.
Makes sense that someone would think its too cartoony, and that I wouldn't be taken seriously.
Majorly epic massive failure.
I finally have something good going for me, a really good opportunity to get an internship designing a website that could lead to a real job, and I feel like I'm already fucking it all up. My work is all over the place. I have no real style to it at all.
Makes sense that someone would think its too cartoony, and that I wouldn't be taken seriously.
Majorly epic massive failure.
3.07.2009
Nightcrawler
There's something about walking home in the middle of the night thats oddly peaceful. Chicago beween 2 and 4 AM is like an entirely different place. People and busses are scarce, shops are closed up, and everything is quiet. Is almost shocking to encounter another person.
Last night, as I half stumbled up Pulaski Rd, in search of the blue line el, I was embarking on a new adventure when the night should have been ending. I had said goodnight to all the metal punks, and the crusties, and the goons as I slammed back a last PBR tall boy, my ears still ringing from Disrobe and Caustic Christ. I was craving a burrito.
As I walked, I grew more and more hungry. I imagined that every lit store front and neon sign was a taqueria, and each time was disappointed by a closed auto parts shop, or tattoo shop, and eventually a place called "Best Burrito", which was also closed. I eventually found the El stop at Irving Park, about 2 miles from Metal Shaker where I had started. I also found a Shell/ subway/ Dunkin donuts mega gas station, and gave up on my burrito craving for a bag of Doritos and some M&M's.
2:10 am, and I'm getting on the blue line with the sleeping homeless. I'm trying to drop the feeling of invading someones bedroom as I listen to Rancid on my iPod and eat my Dorito's. We pull into Western, and the 3rd leg of my adventure is ready to begin. I find my way down the stairs, through the turnstile, and out of the station to the bus stop, just in time to see the bus pulling away.
2:25 am, and there won't be another bus for about 30 min. Rancid ends, and I switch to the Ting-Tings to pass the time. I sit at North and Western, fighting to stay awake as I watch the people and traffic go by. I start to wonder why I had decided not to ride my bike tonight. I try not to think about how I could have been home already.
I finally get on the bus just before 3am. I get off at Cermak, and begin walking again. 1 mile to go. 1 mile till bed. 10 more minutes of walking, and my early morning public transportation adventure is over, at least till next weekend.
Last night, as I half stumbled up Pulaski Rd, in search of the blue line el, I was embarking on a new adventure when the night should have been ending. I had said goodnight to all the metal punks, and the crusties, and the goons as I slammed back a last PBR tall boy, my ears still ringing from Disrobe and Caustic Christ. I was craving a burrito.
As I walked, I grew more and more hungry. I imagined that every lit store front and neon sign was a taqueria, and each time was disappointed by a closed auto parts shop, or tattoo shop, and eventually a place called "Best Burrito", which was also closed. I eventually found the El stop at Irving Park, about 2 miles from Metal Shaker where I had started. I also found a Shell/ subway/ Dunkin donuts mega gas station, and gave up on my burrito craving for a bag of Doritos and some M&M's.
2:10 am, and I'm getting on the blue line with the sleeping homeless. I'm trying to drop the feeling of invading someones bedroom as I listen to Rancid on my iPod and eat my Dorito's. We pull into Western, and the 3rd leg of my adventure is ready to begin. I find my way down the stairs, through the turnstile, and out of the station to the bus stop, just in time to see the bus pulling away.
2:25 am, and there won't be another bus for about 30 min. Rancid ends, and I switch to the Ting-Tings to pass the time. I sit at North and Western, fighting to stay awake as I watch the people and traffic go by. I start to wonder why I had decided not to ride my bike tonight. I try not to think about how I could have been home already.
I finally get on the bus just before 3am. I get off at Cermak, and begin walking again. 1 mile to go. 1 mile till bed. 10 more minutes of walking, and my early morning public transportation adventure is over, at least till next weekend.
2.15.2009
Wallflower blossoming
Sam wants to change the world. First though, she needs to figure out how. Because changing the world is a big goal, and there are too many things that need to be fixed. She's young, aggressive, and slowly taking over my world.
I started the night leaning against the wall, clutching my beer. Watching the scene unfold.
"Are you ok? You look positively pissed off right now."
That was Leah. Playing the roll of hostess, making it her duty to see that everyone was having a good time..
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." I assured her, "just don't know anyone here."
"Ok, well, come dance with us."
"I will eventually", I said, holding up my beer.
The truth is, I'm really a wallflower. I stand back, observe, let people come to me. And usually it works. Eventually someone will come and break through my imaginary wall, and drag me away from the safety zone I've created, and pull me out into the world again. That's were Sam comes in.
Eventually the DJ put on a good song, and I slowly made my way onto the dance floor. Suddenly Sam is standing in front of me, asking if I want to dance. I'm not sure at first. I was barely comfortable away from the wall, when human interaction, in the form of a cute girl who's practically falling on me, is invading my comfort bubble. Wasn't that what I came for though?
I say yes, and its awkward. Shes moving against me to her own rhythm, and I struggle to find her beat. All too soon, another question comes out of her mouth. "Do you want to make out?"
"No" I say, too quickly.
She's clearly drunk, and I'm only half way through my first beer. I don't want to take advantage of her. She's ok with it though, and says to let her know when I'm ready.
We keep dancing and attempt to talk over the music.
"So what's your story?" She asks, and I'm not entirely sure what she means.
I have too many to tell, and most of them would scare a lot of people away. I'm silent, thinking about what to share. That I'm unemployed and can barely afford rent and food, let alone a social life? My borderline personality disorder and how many times I've tried to kill myslef? The long list of drugs and addiction, and self mutilation? That I've lived in 3 states in the past 5 years and have started over each time?
"What do you want to know about?" I finally ask.
"Well, are you gay? Genderqueer? Whats your story?" she asks again.
The question makes sense now, and for a second I see myself as the rest of the world probably does. She can't quite figure me out, and doesn't want to assume wrong.
I don't think she realizes how compicated that question really is though. She has no idea how many times I've tried to figure it out for my self with out comming up with a real answer.
"Genderqueer, I guess. Kinda whatever." It's not really an answer, because I don't know the answer. How do you explain being female, with an androgenous apearance, with a non gender specific orientation when it comes to sexual attraction, while at the same time purposly blurring the line between genders? It can turn a seemingly simple question into a long intense conversation.
Flash forward three drinks, and I'm sitting in a chair in the corner. I'm balancing a drink in one hand, running my fingers through Sam's hair as she grinds against my thigh between kisses. I'm having one of those "Is this really my life?" moments. She had been persistant, waiting for me to finish each drink and asking if I was ready yet. Eventually I caved. I drank myself to her level, while she kept telling me how cute I was, and the feeling that I would be taking advantage faded.
After making out against the wall, in the middle of the dance floor, in line for the bathroom, against another wall, and finally the wobbly folding chair, I needed a cigarette. The one habit that's still around. I't seems insane that blow, popping pills and making myself bleed would be the easy ones to quit, especially considering my past as a Varsity Athlete in 3 sports. We found a bench on the fire escape, and tangled together for warmth while we talked.
That was when she said she want's to change the world. We talked about school, and how she finds it hot that I'm a geek. And we talked about fucking guys, and how sometimes its easier, till you wake up sober and just want to get the fuck out and pretend it never happened. She imagines a world where everyone is gay, and theres no guessing game in deciding if you can hit on a cute girl on the train. We agreed that people need to relax, and let everyone else be, and that being queer shouldn't be a big deal anymore. She stopped being the agressive drunk girl that I found intimidating, and I started to fall for her.
We decided at that point that It was time to go home, separately. I said I had to pee, then I would wait for a cab with her before walking to the bus, and we would get phone numbers while we waited.
I was standing in line, talking to a boy in a dress, when Leah showed up again. She said she had seen me with Sam, and that it was good to know. I smiled, and she stepped closer.
"It's good to know..." she said again, looking up at me, taunting almost.
And I kissed her. It was better with Leah, softer. I think I had wanted to kiss her all night, and she had been mixing strong drinks for me, but Sam had gotten to me first. "I'll see you on the dance floor" she said, walking away.
I decided to stay at that point, figuring I could see Sam to a Cab and go back to the party. Sam was gone though. And Leah was making out with someone else. I couldn't be upset though, since it was the same someone else it had been the whole time I was with Sam.
That was when the cops showed up. The party came to a halt as the under 21 crowd grabbed coats and ran for the back door. I hung back, waiting to see if the party was really over. I watched, hoping they would leave and the party would pick up again. It wasn't the case this time though.
I grabbed my coat, walked past the mess of cops out the door (lying on my way past when I was asked if they charged a cover) and looked for Sam again. She was really gone.
Once again I was the wallflower, walking home alone, wishing things had ended differently.
I started the night leaning against the wall, clutching my beer. Watching the scene unfold.
"Are you ok? You look positively pissed off right now."
That was Leah. Playing the roll of hostess, making it her duty to see that everyone was having a good time..
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." I assured her, "just don't know anyone here."
"Ok, well, come dance with us."
"I will eventually", I said, holding up my beer.
The truth is, I'm really a wallflower. I stand back, observe, let people come to me. And usually it works. Eventually someone will come and break through my imaginary wall, and drag me away from the safety zone I've created, and pull me out into the world again. That's were Sam comes in.
Eventually the DJ put on a good song, and I slowly made my way onto the dance floor. Suddenly Sam is standing in front of me, asking if I want to dance. I'm not sure at first. I was barely comfortable away from the wall, when human interaction, in the form of a cute girl who's practically falling on me, is invading my comfort bubble. Wasn't that what I came for though?
I say yes, and its awkward. Shes moving against me to her own rhythm, and I struggle to find her beat. All too soon, another question comes out of her mouth. "Do you want to make out?"
"No" I say, too quickly.
She's clearly drunk, and I'm only half way through my first beer. I don't want to take advantage of her. She's ok with it though, and says to let her know when I'm ready.
We keep dancing and attempt to talk over the music.
"So what's your story?" She asks, and I'm not entirely sure what she means.
I have too many to tell, and most of them would scare a lot of people away. I'm silent, thinking about what to share. That I'm unemployed and can barely afford rent and food, let alone a social life? My borderline personality disorder and how many times I've tried to kill myslef? The long list of drugs and addiction, and self mutilation? That I've lived in 3 states in the past 5 years and have started over each time?
"What do you want to know about?" I finally ask.
"Well, are you gay? Genderqueer? Whats your story?" she asks again.
The question makes sense now, and for a second I see myself as the rest of the world probably does. She can't quite figure me out, and doesn't want to assume wrong.
I don't think she realizes how compicated that question really is though. She has no idea how many times I've tried to figure it out for my self with out comming up with a real answer.
"Genderqueer, I guess. Kinda whatever." It's not really an answer, because I don't know the answer. How do you explain being female, with an androgenous apearance, with a non gender specific orientation when it comes to sexual attraction, while at the same time purposly blurring the line between genders? It can turn a seemingly simple question into a long intense conversation.
Flash forward three drinks, and I'm sitting in a chair in the corner. I'm balancing a drink in one hand, running my fingers through Sam's hair as she grinds against my thigh between kisses. I'm having one of those "Is this really my life?" moments. She had been persistant, waiting for me to finish each drink and asking if I was ready yet. Eventually I caved. I drank myself to her level, while she kept telling me how cute I was, and the feeling that I would be taking advantage faded.
After making out against the wall, in the middle of the dance floor, in line for the bathroom, against another wall, and finally the wobbly folding chair, I needed a cigarette. The one habit that's still around. I't seems insane that blow, popping pills and making myself bleed would be the easy ones to quit, especially considering my past as a Varsity Athlete in 3 sports. We found a bench on the fire escape, and tangled together for warmth while we talked.
That was when she said she want's to change the world. We talked about school, and how she finds it hot that I'm a geek. And we talked about fucking guys, and how sometimes its easier, till you wake up sober and just want to get the fuck out and pretend it never happened. She imagines a world where everyone is gay, and theres no guessing game in deciding if you can hit on a cute girl on the train. We agreed that people need to relax, and let everyone else be, and that being queer shouldn't be a big deal anymore. She stopped being the agressive drunk girl that I found intimidating, and I started to fall for her.
We decided at that point that It was time to go home, separately. I said I had to pee, then I would wait for a cab with her before walking to the bus, and we would get phone numbers while we waited.
I was standing in line, talking to a boy in a dress, when Leah showed up again. She said she had seen me with Sam, and that it was good to know. I smiled, and she stepped closer.
"It's good to know..." she said again, looking up at me, taunting almost.
And I kissed her. It was better with Leah, softer. I think I had wanted to kiss her all night, and she had been mixing strong drinks for me, but Sam had gotten to me first. "I'll see you on the dance floor" she said, walking away.
I decided to stay at that point, figuring I could see Sam to a Cab and go back to the party. Sam was gone though. And Leah was making out with someone else. I couldn't be upset though, since it was the same someone else it had been the whole time I was with Sam.
That was when the cops showed up. The party came to a halt as the under 21 crowd grabbed coats and ran for the back door. I hung back, waiting to see if the party was really over. I watched, hoping they would leave and the party would pick up again. It wasn't the case this time though.
I grabbed my coat, walked past the mess of cops out the door (lying on my way past when I was asked if they charged a cover) and looked for Sam again. She was really gone.
Once again I was the wallflower, walking home alone, wishing things had ended differently.
1.07.2009
another year, more failure
So it's 2009. I've been in Chicago for 2 years now, and I'm starting over again. It seems like every time I think I have found the lowest point in my life, the ground sinks again. And every time it gets a little harder to climb back out.
I lost my job in the middle of November, just before Thanksgiving, and I'm still unemployed. I guess I should consider myself lucky in some ways, because things are changing for the better, but it doesn't really feel that way. I'm going back to school, and my mom is covering my tuition, but having better job opportunities in the future doesn't fix the now. I'm getting unemployment benefits, but being able to pay rent doesn't keep me fed or pay for books. I have a roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in, but having the basics for survival doesn't make life feel worthwhile.
So I'm struggling everyday to make it through. Once again, I'm living on a diet of Ramen, bread and peanut butter and feeling guilty for spending more than $15 a week on food. Somehow cigarettes are a more important expense. And most importantly I'm trying to find a job. Not an easy task when getting out of bed is the hardest part of the day. It seems easier to just hide under the blankets all day than to go out into the world and be rejected again and again.
Soon some of that will change though. I will have school to get me out of bed, at least it will 3 days a week. And a job will happen. It has to. Unemployment benefits only last for so long.
I lost my job in the middle of November, just before Thanksgiving, and I'm still unemployed. I guess I should consider myself lucky in some ways, because things are changing for the better, but it doesn't really feel that way. I'm going back to school, and my mom is covering my tuition, but having better job opportunities in the future doesn't fix the now. I'm getting unemployment benefits, but being able to pay rent doesn't keep me fed or pay for books. I have a roof over my head and a warm bed to sleep in, but having the basics for survival doesn't make life feel worthwhile.
So I'm struggling everyday to make it through. Once again, I'm living on a diet of Ramen, bread and peanut butter and feeling guilty for spending more than $15 a week on food. Somehow cigarettes are a more important expense. And most importantly I'm trying to find a job. Not an easy task when getting out of bed is the hardest part of the day. It seems easier to just hide under the blankets all day than to go out into the world and be rejected again and again.
Soon some of that will change though. I will have school to get me out of bed, at least it will 3 days a week. And a job will happen. It has to. Unemployment benefits only last for so long.
12.24.2007
So its almost Christmas, which means its super close to New Years, and that means Ive been in Chicago for a year now. It seems crazy, because I honestly didn't think i would make it this long. A year ago this week I was going through all my shit, packing the essentials, and saying goodbye to everyone. I was also freaking out. A lot. I guess that was a good thing though, I was about to get on a bus to travel 1,000 miles, to go to a city I had never been too and have no job and no place to live. You already know about that though.
But I still wonder what I have really accomplished though. What did I actually do in the last year?
Lets be really cliche here, and make a randomly ordered top ten list. Isn't that what your supposed to do at the end of the year?
1. Drank a lot. To the point where I often didn't remember major parts of the night and how I ended up certain places (Todd's couch? huh? Todd doesn't remember either). There were also lots of days where I was too hung over to function before 9 pm the next day.
2. Did lots of drugs. Lets list them... Weed, Coke, muscle relaxers, Xanax, percocet, DXM. If theres anything else I dont remember (see item 1).
3. Had a bunch of one night stands, and a couple repeat fuck buddies. I dont think I want to admit to the number, we'll just say its more than 8. Some how I'm still friends with most of them.
3a. Been in conversations with 2 or more people at the same time that I had previously fucked with out it being awkward. It was a little wierd, but somehow not awkward.
4. Got in 2 somewhat major accidents on my bike. The first time I was drunk, hit a curb, flipped over the handle bars, and landed face-first on the sidewalk. My front tooth is still broken. The second time I hit a truck going through an intersection and spent about 4 hours in the ER. I went to a party that night and drank lots of beer and did a bunch of coke.
5. Lived in 2 different apartments, with different people in each one. I won't write about that though, cause I already have.
6. Had 3 different jobs. So maybe it looks bad on a resume, but I was moving up to a better position and making more money each time. I lied a little to get the current one. Actually maybe lied is the wrong word. I exagerrated about my past work experience and was offered and accepted a position I wasnt really qualified for. luckily I work with people who didn't really care and are willing to help me out and teach me stuff. Thats how you get a job as a cook without culinary school.
7. Went to lots of shows in basements and met tons of awesome people. I guess I went to being a wanna-be punk to a real punk. I totally have an in at all the shows, know people in lots of bands, and apparently im cool enough for people to share there beer and drugs with me. Maybe its time to learn how to play guitar for real, instead of just a couple chords, and be IN a band... maybe.
8. Spent 90-100 hours on Greyhound busses. Its over 30 hours to get from VT to Chicago. I did it 3 times this year. The first time moving here, then going back to VT and back to visit family in August. I learned that Xanax is the key to sanity on trips like that. I had some in August and completely zoned out most of the time.
9. Got mugged. That totally sucked. It was February, and I was walking home from a bar. I could see my apartment building when this guy comes down the sidewalk walking toward me. All of a sudden he has me against a fence and is reaching into my pockets and managed to take off with my wallet and cell phone. I sat in the snow and cried for a minute.
10. Went to Gary Indiana to buy weed and got harrased by a gang. I was with a couple other people, and we had gone to a gas station with a couple kids who lived in Gary. These guys come up to the car while were waiting for the girl, and are peeking in asking who we are before telling us to get the fuck out cause shit was about to go down. We got the fuck out. I never went back.
So maybe some people would look at that list an call me a fuck up, and say that I'm wasting my life. I don't think so though. I'll admit to having a couple regrets, but nothing I think too hard about or get depressed about (except for when I'm lying in bed at 6pm still feeling like shit between vomiting from the night before).
I didn't try to kill myself this year. I can't say that about the past couple. I guess that means things are getting better.
But I still wonder what I have really accomplished though. What did I actually do in the last year?
Lets be really cliche here, and make a randomly ordered top ten list. Isn't that what your supposed to do at the end of the year?
1. Drank a lot. To the point where I often didn't remember major parts of the night and how I ended up certain places (Todd's couch? huh? Todd doesn't remember either). There were also lots of days where I was too hung over to function before 9 pm the next day.
2. Did lots of drugs. Lets list them... Weed, Coke, muscle relaxers, Xanax, percocet, DXM. If theres anything else I dont remember (see item 1).
3. Had a bunch of one night stands, and a couple repeat fuck buddies. I dont think I want to admit to the number, we'll just say its more than 8. Some how I'm still friends with most of them.
3a. Been in conversations with 2 or more people at the same time that I had previously fucked with out it being awkward. It was a little wierd, but somehow not awkward.
4. Got in 2 somewhat major accidents on my bike. The first time I was drunk, hit a curb, flipped over the handle bars, and landed face-first on the sidewalk. My front tooth is still broken. The second time I hit a truck going through an intersection and spent about 4 hours in the ER. I went to a party that night and drank lots of beer and did a bunch of coke.
5. Lived in 2 different apartments, with different people in each one. I won't write about that though, cause I already have.
6. Had 3 different jobs. So maybe it looks bad on a resume, but I was moving up to a better position and making more money each time. I lied a little to get the current one. Actually maybe lied is the wrong word. I exagerrated about my past work experience and was offered and accepted a position I wasnt really qualified for. luckily I work with people who didn't really care and are willing to help me out and teach me stuff. Thats how you get a job as a cook without culinary school.
7. Went to lots of shows in basements and met tons of awesome people. I guess I went to being a wanna-be punk to a real punk. I totally have an in at all the shows, know people in lots of bands, and apparently im cool enough for people to share there beer and drugs with me. Maybe its time to learn how to play guitar for real, instead of just a couple chords, and be IN a band... maybe.
8. Spent 90-100 hours on Greyhound busses. Its over 30 hours to get from VT to Chicago. I did it 3 times this year. The first time moving here, then going back to VT and back to visit family in August. I learned that Xanax is the key to sanity on trips like that. I had some in August and completely zoned out most of the time.
9. Got mugged. That totally sucked. It was February, and I was walking home from a bar. I could see my apartment building when this guy comes down the sidewalk walking toward me. All of a sudden he has me against a fence and is reaching into my pockets and managed to take off with my wallet and cell phone. I sat in the snow and cried for a minute.
10. Went to Gary Indiana to buy weed and got harrased by a gang. I was with a couple other people, and we had gone to a gas station with a couple kids who lived in Gary. These guys come up to the car while were waiting for the girl, and are peeking in asking who we are before telling us to get the fuck out cause shit was about to go down. We got the fuck out. I never went back.
So maybe some people would look at that list an call me a fuck up, and say that I'm wasting my life. I don't think so though. I'll admit to having a couple regrets, but nothing I think too hard about or get depressed about (except for when I'm lying in bed at 6pm still feeling like shit between vomiting from the night before).
I didn't try to kill myself this year. I can't say that about the past couple. I guess that means things are getting better.
12.08.2007
Huevos Rancheros y Horchata Por Favor
I shouldnt be allowed to drink whisky anymore. It leads to bad ideas and forgetting big parts of the night. Or maybe it was the three long island Ice tea's that lead to the forgetting things, or maybe the weed I smoked.... but anyway, the point is, I dont remember HUGE chunks of last Friday night. Here's what I think happened though..
The first part is pretty clear, actually I remember it perfectly. I got out of work at 10:30, and found Alex sitting on a bench in the mall outside the store. At first I thought he was waiting for me to walk to the bus, cause we take the same one home and the closest stop is about 6 blocks away. It turned out he was waiting for a couple other people to finish closing to get a ride to Skylark. I asked If I might be able to get a ride too, cause my plans involved being a loser and going home to do nothing, and he thought there would be. So we squeeze into Sarah's car with Edith and another kid whos name I dont remember, and go to the bar.
It was fucking packed in there. I got a beer, the worst PBR ever (I know what your thinking, PBR always sucks so why am i complaining about it, but it was seriously way worse than normal, and I kinda like PBR when its good). We found Joe who was already drunk, his roommate bought me another beer, then Edith comes by with her Long Island. She told me they were only $5 and super strong, so Im like, fuck that beer before liquour bullshit, Im drinking Long Islands the rest of the night. And I had three of them. Eventually Todd showed up from who the fuck knows where, and the bar closed, and I left with Joe and his roommate, I dont remember his name so we'll call him Bob. Joe and Bob live a couple blocks from me so I asked them to make sure I was with them when they left so I could walk home with them. I we start walking down Cermak, when Todd catches up asking if were going to the party. Bob goes home, but Joe and I are like Sure, why not?
So we find this girl Courtney's place and go to her party. As soon as I got into the Kitchen some other co-worker hands me a bottle of whisky and I take a shot. This is where things start getting jumpy. I think I took two more, and so did Todd. Then we go to the back where people are sitting around a dining room table smoking weed. I took a couple hits and said "hi" to the adorable Dominique.
And then Im outside, standing on the sidewalk with Joe and Todd. And Courtney is standing on the steps in the doorway asking Joe why he punched some kid.
"Your bigger than him Joe, What the fuck? He's just a kid, your a grown man, why'd you have to hit him like that?"
I found out later that it was all because Joe wanted a beer from the kid.
Jump to some Mexican restraunt in Pilsen, where Im sitting across from Todd, Ordering Huevos Rancheros and a Horchata. I briefly remembering eating them, and Todd telling me that he went to Culinary School at Kendall College.
I dont remember leaving, or walking anywhere, but Im at Todds apartment. He's showing me his broken bike frame, and two bikes, and we smoke another bowl while I pet his cats before I go to sleep on his couch and pass out.
I wake up around 1pm the next day, and decide to just go home cause I feel all awkward because I dont remember how I ended up there. He gets up, helps me find my hoodie (in the opposite corner from the rest of my stuff?) and asked me if I know where I am.
"Ummm, no." I say, slightly embarrased.
I was at 18th and Ashland, and walked home in the snow trying to fill in the blank parts from the night, and deciding that Whisky and weed probably dont go well together.
The first part is pretty clear, actually I remember it perfectly. I got out of work at 10:30, and found Alex sitting on a bench in the mall outside the store. At first I thought he was waiting for me to walk to the bus, cause we take the same one home and the closest stop is about 6 blocks away. It turned out he was waiting for a couple other people to finish closing to get a ride to Skylark. I asked If I might be able to get a ride too, cause my plans involved being a loser and going home to do nothing, and he thought there would be. So we squeeze into Sarah's car with Edith and another kid whos name I dont remember, and go to the bar.
It was fucking packed in there. I got a beer, the worst PBR ever (I know what your thinking, PBR always sucks so why am i complaining about it, but it was seriously way worse than normal, and I kinda like PBR when its good). We found Joe who was already drunk, his roommate bought me another beer, then Edith comes by with her Long Island. She told me they were only $5 and super strong, so Im like, fuck that beer before liquour bullshit, Im drinking Long Islands the rest of the night. And I had three of them. Eventually Todd showed up from who the fuck knows where, and the bar closed, and I left with Joe and his roommate, I dont remember his name so we'll call him Bob. Joe and Bob live a couple blocks from me so I asked them to make sure I was with them when they left so I could walk home with them. I we start walking down Cermak, when Todd catches up asking if were going to the party. Bob goes home, but Joe and I are like Sure, why not?
So we find this girl Courtney's place and go to her party. As soon as I got into the Kitchen some other co-worker hands me a bottle of whisky and I take a shot. This is where things start getting jumpy. I think I took two more, and so did Todd. Then we go to the back where people are sitting around a dining room table smoking weed. I took a couple hits and said "hi" to the adorable Dominique.
And then Im outside, standing on the sidewalk with Joe and Todd. And Courtney is standing on the steps in the doorway asking Joe why he punched some kid.
"Your bigger than him Joe, What the fuck? He's just a kid, your a grown man, why'd you have to hit him like that?"
I found out later that it was all because Joe wanted a beer from the kid.
Jump to some Mexican restraunt in Pilsen, where Im sitting across from Todd, Ordering Huevos Rancheros and a Horchata. I briefly remembering eating them, and Todd telling me that he went to Culinary School at Kendall College.
I dont remember leaving, or walking anywhere, but Im at Todds apartment. He's showing me his broken bike frame, and two bikes, and we smoke another bowl while I pet his cats before I go to sleep on his couch and pass out.
I wake up around 1pm the next day, and decide to just go home cause I feel all awkward because I dont remember how I ended up there. He gets up, helps me find my hoodie (in the opposite corner from the rest of my stuff?) and asked me if I know where I am.
"Ummm, no." I say, slightly embarrased.
I was at 18th and Ashland, and walked home in the snow trying to fill in the blank parts from the night, and deciding that Whisky and weed probably dont go well together.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
