who dat? contest.
(yo stee. i know
your mom. she whispered it in my ear last night.
left column plotting comeback...
So this is probably going to be the weirdest entry you'll ever read. (Those 7 of you who are still around.)
It's 5:45am and I am going back to work today after taking a week off for sxsw. Why am I up at 5:45? Well... I got crazy sloppy drunk last night and drank a bottle of wine I borrowed from my neighbor (well, I'm not giving it back so I guess I didn't technically borrow it) in about 10 minutes and smoked a pack of camel lights (yes, I thought I quit too, shut up) and then asked self-same neighbor to go drinking with me at 9pm. I went to bed at like 11 (I did set my alarm and brush my teeth so I wasn't that drunk) and now I am being punished for my sins.
Why did I get sloppy drunk on a Sunday?
Because it was my first night as a single person (and really, what says single better than ingesting massive amounts of alcohol?)
How did I get single?
Well. One of us decided it was time. The other wasn't so sure. It turned into The Worst Break-Up Ever.
Then, miraculously, it turned into The Most Mature If Still Sad And Tragic Break-Up Ever.
I don't quite know how that happened but I think it saved me about 3 years of therapy
We took a month off. The past month to figure things out. We couldn't figure things out. It's nobody's fault. No one beat the other. No one had an affair. No one lost interest.
It. Just. Left.
We're writing a Press Release about the break-up and sending it to all our friends. I'm not kidding. Many friends have never seen us apart. Many friends would feel forced to choose one of us. Many friends would freak when we show up to a party with someone else on our arm. And like the guy who suddenly has a cast on his leg and has to tell EVERYONE "what happened" - we'd rather get it done in one fell swoop. By doing this we get to make something that is not, neat and tidy. We get to control something that somehow, somewhere, got away from us.
We've dated for six years. Exclusive for 4 and a half. That's a lot of life. That's a lot of love. A lot of fighting. A lot of kissing. A lot of boring parties attended, escaping to the back-yard to roll our eyes at each other and laugh. A lot of vacations. A lot of chicken soup and 7-Up brought over when the other was sick. A lot of sex; a lot of things tried, tentatively at first, but then assuredly because, well, the other was there and it was OK and suddenly "wow that's good". A lot of dinners out. A lot of food ordered in. A lot of tears. A lot of laughter. A Whole Lot Of Laughter. A lot of hugs. A lot of nights spent just being next to each other, reading or watching TV, and there's that moment when you find you are both watching the other person instead of the television and you smile and perhaps squeeze a thigh or a shoulder. I'm going to miss that.
See: I am horribly sad about this. But I am also not. Sometimes that happens...
I am going to miss her. I am going to miss her. I am going to miss her.
So there's that...
Excuse the bitchin. I shouldn't complain. I should have no feeling. Cuz feeling is pain. As everything I need. Is denied me. Everything I want. Is taken away from me. But who do I got to blame? Nobody but me. And I don't wanna be an old man anymore. It's been a year or two since I was out on the floor. Shakin' booty making sweet love all the night. It's time I got back to the good life. It's time I got back. It's time I got back. And I don't even know how I got off the track. I wanna go back, yeah... speaking of which. Have you ever been to New York? Last time I was in New York I was with Mario Joyner, Buster Poindexter, and the bassist from Blink 182. We were hanging out and decided for fun to go see a show. Well, the nearest theater was showing something called "Nunsense", so we went. Wow... I haven't laughed that hard since I read the pilot script of Parker Lewis Can't Lose. Man, it's time I got back... to Nunsense!
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