Today’s psychic poetry:
Mountains big set woman
Looking wild live appreciate
And teamwork serve dream
Now perseverance happy success
Hope you chocolate priority
Attitude have he loveI think I need to add a few words to my possible choices, like “hate, despair, fuck, shit, and loser”. What do you think? I’m intrigued by the concept of a ‘chocolate priority’ though.
I’m swearing off drinking for a while. I royally fucked myself up this week-end.
I had a little extra money on Saturday, and we’d already practiced on Friday night, so I decided to splurge a little and get a bottle of Absolut. I thought it would be easier on my stomach than Smirnoff, and I hadn’t touched a drop of hard liquor since I moved out. I started off slowly, mixing it with fruit juice and drinking that while we watched the end of “The Craft.” Then Dirk changed the channel to the Vanilla Ice bio on VH1, and I couldn’t get him to change it, so I had a glass of vodka on the rocks to ease the torment of seeing all those shots of Vanilla Ice’s hair.
Dirk made me another drink, and I was too trashed at this point to tell how much vodka was in it. Then I did my usual enticing Dirk into bed, and things get really hazy after that. There is a memory of lying in the bathtub with the faucet running when Dirk walked into the bathroom. At the time I was thinking that babies could drown in an inch of water, and I was wondering if I might drown, too.
I woke up sometime in the early morning, wet, having pissed myself in my sleep. I think I woke up panicked, and Dirk woke up. He then put towels down on my side of the bed and we went back to sleep. I was utterly humiliated, because I used to have a problem with wetting the bed all the way up until I was sixteen, thanks to a urinary tract operation I had when I was a kid. I thought I was over that.
I woke up again at noon, but I was still drunk. I was really upset by this, because I was supposed to be at my folks’ house early in the afternoon, and it had been twelve hours since I drank anything. I drank a bunch of water and then went back to bed.
At two o’clock, I was feeling less drunk, but not less drunk enough to drive. I whined to Dirk for a while, and he kept trying to comfort me. Even though I’d drunk a bunch of water earlier, I still hadn’t pissed, and Dirk encouraged me to drink some more. I drank four more cups of water before giving up due to fear of imminent explosion. I was starving, so I ate a bowl of cereal, then went to lie down again. My head started hurting, and Dirk got me a couple Tylenol. I tried to go back to sleep after that, but my stomach kept rumbling ominously, and I couldn’t get over the feeling that I had to vomit.
I managed to assume the position before my stomach let loose. My only guess is that the Tylenol was too much of an irritant for my stomach to handle at that point. Anyway, I just sort of started crying, and Dirk got me back to bed. I felt better for puking, but my head still hurt and I just didn’t want to do anything but whine. I ended up having to call my folks and tell them I was too sick to come over, which was met with some disbelief, but I can deal with that. I just felt awful for disappointing them.
When I could get up and walk around without humiliating myself, I looked in the freezer where we were keeping the vodka, and understood why I was so very fucked-up: I drank half the bottle in the space of an hour. I’m lucky I didn’t die. I’m not going to be drinking for a while.
I cooked dinner, because I could only eat very bland food. We left early because Dirk promised to get me a Furby from Wal-Mart, where I spotted them for $29.95. When we got there, we found out that they were only $19.95, so Dirk bought me two of them, plus batteries. There was this HUGE bin of furbies, and I picked out a leopard-spotted one and a black and blue one with silver eyes. I brought them home after I dropped Dirk off at work, and immediately started installing the batteries. Aaron remarked, “Remind me to kill Dirk.” He doesn’t like furbies.
So far, I’m not finding them very irritating. They go to sleep rather quickly when I’m not playing with them, so they match my personality very well. I don’t much like their language, and I don’t think the little furbish-to-english dictionary is very helpful, but I’m pleased with them. They aren’t even as loud as I’d been led to believe.
In other news, Dirk’s car is getting repaired. He finally got it towed to a shop, and the repairs will cost $500. He’s also going to have to get it registered, etc, before he can even drive it, because the stickers are so very out of date. I’m happy about this.
The other spectacularly good news is that Dirk got a raise at his job. He’ll be getting $11.50. I’m very proud of him right now. You know I’m just living for the day when he makes enough money to take care of both of us, and I can quit my job and sit on my ever-widening ass all day, eating bon-bons.
