drunk blogging

Is dangerous.

But it’s been forever since I actually wrote a blog, as my friends are so kind to remind me so…mix alchohol and emotion and here we go….


1) alcohol. Annie, I love your jello shots, they’re like a happy little sneak attack. One minute I’m sipping my margarita mix in your apartment, the next I’m on the roof, smoking, and suddenly drunk…they’re amazing….kudos on the dip stuff too…I wanted to grab it and run away.

2) rooftops. I love rooftops. Always wanted to hook up on one, haven’t gotten around to that yet, one of three places on the top of my list, I have a feeling it will superceed the pool, which would be a good thing bc anything that wipes my crazy pshyco ex a bit more from my memory the better…

ok, so there’s the alcohol, now here’s the emotion:

see, I was tempted to write a blog so many times this week. Often while I was falling asleep, all these thoughts, that I couldn’t sort out during the day would well up in my head at night and leave me tossing and turning until sleep finally overtook me. And I still can’t sort them all out, all the thoughts. And I don’t think here is the place to. Maybe in my therapists office, or in conversation. But, a random (drunk) train of thought lately:

self preservation. And the varied ways it manifests itself in myself and (more interestingly, bc, well, I’ve known myself for 25 yrs now) in others. And, what exactly, to do with that.

Walls. What makes them go up and down. When I raise the drawbridge, when I don’t want anyone or anything sliding through these slippery folds I’ve spent my life growing, and why. And why…..?

Want. What I want. In all different areas of my life. Catching myself think about things I’d rather not (see “self preservation” above). In so many ways, I’m slowly getting closer to what I want, and in so many ways I’m getting farther away. It changes. It grows as I grow. And sometimes, I can’t keep up with myself. And sometimes, no one else can either.

Cause and effect. Intertwining circles.

Fear and insecuritiy.


Unfinished sentences and unanswered questions.

Cynisism. I used to be so much more cynical and I miss it sometimes. I’ve become a hopeless idealist. It’s depressing. At least when I was cynical I never set myself up to be let down. I’m not sure when or how this change took place. It makes no sense. But now, I search for something to believe in, and I have hope and desire for a future I never had before. I am so fucked.

I am so drunk.

And there are so many things I’m looking for.