Reset Button

I need a reset button.

I need a reset button for those nights when I get inexplicably angry at the clock for ticking too loud, or the time for passing too slow or too fast, or at my boyfriend for sitting too close to me when he has every right to do so.

I need a reset button for those times when I feel so wound up from comments that people have made that I want to punch something really hard.

I need a reset button for those times when I feel like listening to any sad, slow love song can turn me into a weeping baby as soon as it comes on.

I need a reset button for the times that I get so tired that all I want to do is sleep, but can't because that's too exhausting.

I need a reset button for the times that I drink too much because of something that happened earlier that day or because of my lack of control.

I need a reset button on the friendships that I've lost, papers that I've misplaced, feelings that I've hidden away.

I need a reset button on my sleeping schedule.

I need a reset button for those times when I became so blindingly mad at my parents or my brothers just for saying something that I didn't quite agree with, or not picking up on what I meant quickly enough.

I need a reset button for my emotions.

Wouldn't life be easier if you had a reset button?

party time

I really wish I was still into partying as much as I used to be. Ever since I got back to school, the only thing that there really has been to do is to get drunk or go to a party. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm still a fan of drinking occasionally, but I don't want to get ridiculously drunk every time I have some alcohol.

Back in freshman year, we used to have theatre parties at my friend Sean's house all the time. Literally, every Thursday and Friday and Saturday, we would be over there, drinking and hanging out, or drinking to a Disney movie, or drinking and listening to music. I think most of the time that I spent over there I was drunk.

Best drinking game night ever was when we played a drinking game to Hercules. Girls drank every time they said Hades, guys drank every time they said Zeus, everyone drank every time they said "Hercules" or a song started. Talk about getting sloshed quickly! That was fun. I think we tried to watch other movies after that, but everyone was pretty drunk.

This weekend there was a lingerie party at the Normal St House (a house where a group of theatre students live). At first I thought it was going to be really fun because sophomore year it was awesome, everyone was dressed up and we all knew eachother (and also I was 11 Kamikazee shots deep). This year most of the people were dressed up (Mindee and I went shopping at Frederick's on Wednesday to get our outfits - these ones, if you're interested) but there were a TON of people there. Apparently, one of the freshman took it upon herself to invite everyone she's met since she's been here, which was AWESOME. And by awesome I mean the worst thing ever. There was no air in the house, so if you went in there you couldn't breathe. If you were outside, you got eaten by bugs. If you went in the basement you were humped senseless by the hoards of drunk freshman. (Major orgy.) The party was just ridiculous.

I think a lot of the people had fun, but I was ready to leave about five minutes after I got there. There were too many people there that I didn't know for the amount of naked I was. But I stuck it out, hung out with a bunch of people outside (and now have about 8 bug bites to show for it) and tried to be a good sport. I had even taken 3 shots before I left to get in the mood for the party! It just didn't work. Bad news.

Oh well. Maybe I should just figure out how to be a drunkie again. Eh.

Whisper her name...

Talk about an eventful night.


Last night, I had a birthday party for a friend of mine. It was a special birthday party though, definitely not the typical kind. First of all, she doesn't live in northern California. She's in Santa Barbara. Well, really, she's buried there.

My first real week in New York, my friend killed herself.

I remember getting the call. My mom called me at 10am on that Friday morning. I was upset that she had called that early because it was my only day to sleep in, and I wanted to sleep til noon. I didn't pick up, but she didn't leave a message. I called her back right away, asking if it was important. She said it was, but if I was still sleeping I could call her back later. That caught my attention. She was calling to tell me that on Wednesday, M had taken her life.

I hadn't talked to M in a few months, so I didn't really know what was going on in her life, but she had emailed me around Thanksgiving to wish me a happy birthday and to comment on the fact that I was thinking about becoming a Jewish educator. She thought it was so cool that I might be a rabbi or a cantor or a teacher of Judaism. She told me that she was bragging to her boyfriend about it and everything.

God, I miss her.

We were never that close or anything, but our families were in the same group at the temple. Our Havurah (basically a group of families that make up another family) always had events planned, so we hung out a lot. When I was younger, I actually thought she didn't like me. Of course, that's how I feel about a lot of people, but for her it was worse because she was in my Havurah. Anyway, eventually we became a little closer, hanging out when our moms would get together. She was such a tomboy, and I was a girly girl, so our personalities clashed, but one day when it was raining we put bathing suits on (I put the top of mine on backwards) and did a rain dance. There are pictures.

Anyway, last night I had a birthday party for her, and I guess things just hit me harder than I was expecting them to. It also didn't help that I drank a lot. (For those of you who want to know how much I had - an entire bottle of white wine, a triple sec and pomegranate juice, two and a half pina coladas...that's all I can remember. It's possible I had other drinks.) There was a lot of crying, and a lot of text messaging, and a lot of conversations that should have been had while sober. I think the thing that keeps getting me through this is that at least she's not hurting anymore. Silver lining.

Happy birthday, M. I hope you're doing better, wherever you are.

Round and round we go...

So, cast lists went up. I was cast as "Servant" in Bernarda Alba. She gets to sing and she also has lines, and if they do the same character breakdowns as in the script, I get to also play a fiance who sings by themself. So. Sorry about being so emo.


In other news, I accidentally-on-purpose ran into the Professor tonight. I had been hanging out at Stina's eating dinner and watching Hercules with Cindy, Lauren, and Stina. We were eating and drinking and having a good time, and I was kind of tipsy because I hadn't eaten much today, and I sent him a text message. It wasn't anything bad, all it said was "What are you up to on this kind of hot saturday night?" And he sent me one back that just said the name of a bar. Fast forward to a few hours later, Casey (my roommate) and I were going out to the bars to meet up for our friend's 21st birthday, and she said that they were going to this one bar. We walked over there, and the line was huge, so we went to this other bar (neither of which were the one that the Professor said he was at.). We walked in, ordered some drinks, sat down, and there was the Professor, drinking with his other professor friends. One of which is actually my professor this year. Anyway, he hugged me, and we chatted for a little bit. We're having dinner on Tuesday. That sort of came about when I sent out a mass text message talking about how I had gotten cast in the show. He said "congratulations! We should get together sometime soon." And then somehow it came around to us deciding to go out to dinner on Tuesday.

Just to go back a little bit, he was supposed to take me out for my 20th birthday where a lot of things were supposed to happen (which will be two years ago in November), before I left for London for the spring semester, but I ended up not going to London so he ended up not taking me out. Then for my 21st birthday he was going to take me out to get drinks, but that ended up not happening. He spent last spring in LA while he was on Sabbatical, so that kind of kept us apart.

While I was in New York, I sent him a text message (while I was completely sober) asking if we were ever going to have "our night". The night we were supposed to have way back in the day. He answered me asking if I was drunk, and then said yes. So. Maybe this semester it'll happen. Who knows.

Anyway, Tuesday we're having dinner. I'll let you know how that goes.


What am I doing?

Saturday night in the city...

Saturday night I went out with Christina and Vianey and a bunch of other people for Vianey's birthday. It was really fun hanging out with all of them again. I definitely think that this semester is different in terms of how I feel about myself and how other people might perceive me.

One thing that was definitely different was that I went up and talked to someone completely random. He had walked by when I was talking to Christina and I had accidentally hit him in the crotch with my purse (wrong place, wrong time? right place, wrong time? who knows...). I apologized when he turned around, he said he was fine. (I didn't hit him THAT hard.) About an hour later, my group was getting ready to head out and I saw him sitting at a table. I told Vianey that I thought he was cute, and then she tried to get Matt D involved to get me to go talk to him. They were all trying to give me suggestions for things I should say to him, but none of them actually got through a suggestion, I just walked away from them and walked up to him and had this conversation (keep in mind that I was sober, and this was at a bar):

me: Excuse me, are you the one that I hit earlier?
him: yes, that was me.
me: i'm so sorry about that. anyway, my friends and I have a bet going. How old are you?
him: How old do you think I am?
me: No, that kind of defeats the point. Just tell me so I can find out who won.
him: I'm 23. How old are you?
me: I'm 21.
him: that's not bad.
me: (silent, but weird look on my face)
him: i'm sorry , that was a terrible response.
me: yeah, now I feel less bad about hitting you!
him: (he laughed)

Then he proceeded to ask me what we were doing for the rest of the night, but I was going home since I had auditions the next day. He asked for my number, then told me he's new in town, so I told him to call me if he wanted a tour guide. I doubt he'll call, but at least I got up to go talk to him.

Vianey and Matt told me they were proud of me when I came back. Woo.

After auditions, Stina told me that I looked great, all thin and stuff, which I thought was funny because I haven't really lost weight since the last time I saw her. But then I figured out what was different. I'm much more mellow this semester. And I have more confidence.
And that's awesome.

Freak out.

I've been very busy lately. Erik and Beth left on Thursday. I've been hanging out with people from my theatre internship the other nights. It's just been a very full week. So. I haven't posted.

I feel bad when I don't post, because at first I was very enthusiastic, and now I'm not so much. I mean, I still want to get my thoughts out there, but at the same time...I feel like people don't care that much about what I have to say.

Tonight I kind of freaked out, because I couldn't get in to my apartment. This has happened before, but tonight I was a little more scared because my phone was very close to dying. I called my parents after I tried for five minutes to get in to no avail. They kept giving me suggestions, but finally I just started buzzing people hoping SOMEONE would be awake and would buzz me in. Luckily, after buzzing four people someone let me in. They buzzed it for just long enough to let me through the front door. My key doesn't work in the front door for some reason, but it works in the second. Thank goodness it does, otherwise I would still be outside!



In other news, I have a thing for piano players. The professor plays piano. For some reason, I kind of think it doesn't matter what age or sexual orientation you are if you play piano. You could be 32 and gay, and I would still totally have a crush on you if you play piano. But at the same time you could be 40 and straight, and I would have a crush on you too if you had those magic fingers.

I'm not really sure why I like piano so much. I guess it's just soothing or something. It calms me down.

I'm drunk. I don't make sense.

In MORE other news, I just found out that a guy that I kind of thought was cute last Monday is straight, and not gay like most of the interns thought. He told me tonight that I "clean up nice". Sweet. He's cute. Too bad I'm leaving NY two weeks from Monday. Oh well.

This post is stupid. Whatever. I'm going to the beach with my cousin in the morning. Awesome. Goodnight.

So tired.

I am so so so tired. Last night I went to bed at 1:30, but woke up around 2:30 with an awful stomachache. Awful. And I couldn't take a tylenol pm by that point because last time I did that at 2:30 I slept til noon, even though I had to work. So I was forced to suffer through it. I couldn't fall back asleep at all. It was ridiculous. I kind of felt like opening my brother's window and tossing myself into the park. Less pain.

Anyway, Beth and Erik are staying with me now until they leave tomorrow. I think the plan tonight is to go to the Wonderful World of Disney, then to Spotlight and get completely trashed and sing like we're amazing. Which we are! Musical theatre people can sing, so...there's that. I'm not conceited, I swear. No really. Erik is a little, but we love him anyway.

I can't believe this is my last week at one of my two internships. That means that I'm not here for very much longer. I leave on the 18th, and it's the 30th now. Wow. That's so soon! I can't believe how fast the time flew while I was here.

I feel like I've gotten a lot of what I wanted to done since I've been here, so that's good. I wish I wasn't as apathetic towards museums and stuff though, because if people ask me if I went there, I have to say no. And then they give me this look like "you are so uncultured. What a loser!" and there's nothing I can do about it. But I'm not uncultured, I just don't really care for museums. I like hands on whatnot. So like...the California Science Center is cool. (I went to prom there my junior year with my friend Chris, and it was AWESOME.) But I'd rather be actually doing something than trying to figure out what some artist's brush strokes were trying to convey. I like pictures. Yeah. But anyway, I've seen a bunch of shows, which I've wanted to see. I've stayed up til 6am with friends, and gone to a few parties, gone to the Empire State Building and Statue of Liberty, hung out at a few bars, met a lot of people...done a lot of stuff.

I feel like this trip has given me a lot of insight into myself too, but I'll save that for later, after I actually leave NY. Then I can truly reflect.

I wrote some more lyrics two nights ago. I don't know if I've mentioned that I write songs. I've written two songs so far. Woo. I want to learn how to play guitar. That'd be cool. Or piano. Then I could accompany myself! But I don't know how to play either. Sad day.

Ok, this post is stupid enough, so I'm going to get back to work. Slash looking at other people's blogs.

But before I go....any suggestions for things I should in my last two weeks in New York???

Fortune cookies tell awesome fortunes

Last night, Beth and I were having a girls night (leaving Erik to his own devices) and decided to order Chinese food. As we were watching High School Musical: Get in the Picture, our food arrived, which we dug in to quite quickly. After we were done eating, we opened our fortunes. I don't remember what hers said (last night was a long time ago, give me a break!), but mine was quite profound. Mine said:

"You don't have to change friends if you understand that friends change."

Wow, right?

It definitely makes me reflect on stuff that has happened in the past few years with people who I was/am friends with.

My 20th and 21st birthday years have both been so different. As I've said before, a few weeks before I turned 20 I stopped drinking, then when I turned 21, I started again. A lot of things happened right after I turned 21. At my birthday party, (which I had planned for myself because I wanted to celebrate with my friends, but ended up being sick with a cold during after I got back from my vegas birthday trip...more on that later) I was forced to drink by my friends, EVEN THOUGH I was not feeling well. Ok, maybe not forced, but I felt like if I was having this party so that people could drink with me to celebrate my "return to the drinking world," I should be drinking. So I did, and that was fun, and my friends were fans of the fact that I could drink again (as one of my rudest friends said when I had stopped: "I liked it better when you were drinking").

But things weren't all fine and dandy for long.

Things that led to the demise of my friendships with people I thought were my friends:
-I went on a cruise in December with my family, where I had a cruisefling with the pianist on the ship. My friends didn't like that I talked a lot about it when I came back.

-I started going out to the bars, mainly with Michelle, who was 24. My friends didn't like that I was hanging out with other people or that I was "drinking all the time to get drunk".

-I text message a lot. Most of the time when we were hanging out it was late at night, and that was the only time my cousin could text me. So, I ended up texting him a lot while my friends and I were hanging out. Not such a good idea.

-My face's natural expression is not happy. So a lot of the time I don't look like I'm having a good time. It's annoying, but I'm not going to smile 24/7 just to make YOU happy. I'll smile if I want to.

-My ability to pick the WRONG people to like.

Over winter break, my friends and I grew apart due to all these things above, not to mention that I was co-stage managing a show at a community theater that had rehearsal pretty much every night.

When spring semester started, I thought we would be going back to normal patterns of hanging out, but it didn't happen. A party that was supposed to be at my place was moved to a neighbor's place - no one told me about the change until most people had gone home. I heard about movie events, parties, game nights after the fact. I couldn't believe it: I was being phased out. I went to one of my friends of the group that I had helped bring together to find out what was happening, and she told me all of those things above had contributed, plus a few others.

Another girl from the group asked me if I still wanted to be friends with them. I couldn't believe she had asked me that. Of course I wanted to be friends with them. I didn't have many other people to hang out with since I had been hanging out with them almost EVERY NIGHT for a year and a half. Just because I was going out to the bars with people who were of age (which most of them were not) did NOT mean I didn't want to hang out with them!

But I had changed. They had changed their views. They didn't like that I was drinking all the time (which, for the record, I wasn't.). Wait, what? Yeah. Now that I was drinking again, they didn't like it. How does that make sense? Oh, right. It doesn't.

Basically, I can't go into this anymore. It's a sucky feeling. But essentially, the fortune is true.

To quote Rockapella: People change. Everyday.
(I thought there were more words to that song that fit this situation, but I guess not. Oh well!)
People change, and when they don't change together it makes it difficult. So how to fix that?

Anyway, I guess the point of this is that the fortune cookie fortune was something good to remember. You don't have to change friends if you understand that friends change.

It happens.

Finding love in all the wrong places...

I always have a crush on the wrong guy. The rabbi's son who was dating my then best friend. The camp counselor when I was a camper. My sixth grade science teacher. The advisor of my youth group. The director of my theatre group. A professor. A director of development at my internship.

And I make it worse for myself by becoming semi-blatantly obvious about. Can you be semi-blatantly obvious about something? I'm not sure. But I was. I'll go to the more recent ones since those might be a tad more interesting. (Plus I can remember more about them).

The Director of my theatre group and I had gotten quite chummy towards the end of my high school career. I was no longer in the theatre group, but I missed him a whole lot. Whether it was the friendship aspect or more is one thing I'm not sure about. In January of my senior year, my boyfriend (and best friend) had broken up with me. I was heartbroken and bitter, so I decided that for my creative writing class final, I would write a play about it. When I finally finished the play in April I felt much better about everything that had happened, and decided that I wanted to share my work with someone. I sent it to the Director and asked what he thought. That sparked the beginning of our really close friendship, where we began to talk about everything and completely opened up to each other, which inevitably led to me having a crush on him and him kind of liking me back. (Take note - I was 18 and he was 34.) He made dinner for me one night at his apartment and after that I was completely hooked. I spent all my time checking my email (our relationship was mainly maintained through email and IMs since I was still in school and couldn't talk on the phone during classes) through my phone. Over the summer it escalated into spending more time together, but it never got more physical than hand holding. This is mainly because I was an "innocent child" that he didn't feel right corrupting, then sending off to college. After I left for college the whole thing kind of fizzled out into the occasional email or IM conversation, then he abandoned talking to me completely.

The Professor was....wow. An ongoing "thing" for a very long time. I had the Professor my freshman year. I was smitten after the very first class when everything he talked about got me excited about learning...and the fact that he had a great ass. He looked to be about 23, not the 36 that he actually was (at the time...now he's 38), so I was unaware of his age until a few months later. One day during class, a friend of mine and I had decided to take a count of how many times he turned around to show us his ass, and at the first tally we both went to put it down on the same piece of paper at the same time and both dissolved into giggles almost immediately. We caused quite a stir (even though class hadn't started yet), so he kind of scolded us and tried to get us to tell what we were giggling out. Neither of us would tell (because how embarrassing would THAT be?) so he dropped it. The next week I found a comic that I thought pertained to what we were talking about in class which was mildly amusing, so I emailed it to him. The Professor emailed me back with "that's funny, but I don't think it's what had you laughing in class last week..." to which I replied "No. To be honest, what were laughing about during class is how I have a huge crush on you and I think you have the greatest butt ever. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable...Just thought I should tell you the truth." That's not even the slightest bit awkward, right?? My roommate came back from the bathroom after I had sent that email to me curled in a ball on my bed kind of shaking. Ha. Anyway, after that we had a lot of awkward emails sent back and forth during that semester, then we stopped. Then over the summer I emailed him again while I was drunk (there I go again with the alcohol!) and that got us started talking again. Then we exchanged phone numbers, and he took me to lunch when he was visiting near where I lived. A lot of emails and text messages and phone calls later, we had become friends, and I was very comfortable with having a pseudo relationship with this ridiculously intelligent (although occasionally arrogant) professor. My friends, however, were less than thrilled that I was talking to him in more than a teacher/student context. So eventually we stopped talking for awhile, but a few months later we began again. Then stopped. Then started. Then stopped. And so they cycle continues. Right now we're on a hiatus. Still nothing physical.

Now I have a crush on the director of development at the internship that I'm working at. 32, kind of reminds me of Buzz Lightyear (which I told him when he took all the interns out to get drinks the second week I was here). Apparently, that night (which I don't remember much of...yay alcohol) we were flirting pretty hardcore and he was reciprocating... What am I getting myself into now? Probably nothing. I'm just overanalyzing. But he just came to my building (there are two buildings for this company) and my stomach jumped into my mouth. My face probably turned bright red too. Awesome.

We'll see if anything happens. Probably not, but you never know, right?

Happy 4th of July!

So, in honor of the fourth of July, independence day, blah blah blah whatever, I thought it would be a fun idea to tell you what I did.

I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I am currently in NYC. Spending my summer here, living the good life (aka couch-surfing and doing unpaid internships) doing almost anything I want to do. So. Today was a very fun-filled and exciting day for me.

Last night, I got my iPod back (finally! It had broken sometime last year and my dad finally sent it to be fixed and then sent it to my brother who gave it to me), so I spent all last night putting music on it for my adventure that I was planning today.

The plan: Hang out in central park. In one location. For a long time. Possibly people watching or writing or reading or something.

What actually happened: I left my (or the current host's) apartment around 4 pm. I had ended up staying awake until 6am putting music back on my ipod and reading SO@24's blog from the beginning (I like to know the entire story if I jump into a blog. Since he was the first person I friended on 20SB, I decided to read his entire blog first. Check him out. He's awesome at writing. And telling stories. However, this reading everything in entirety is a very long process. So...WHOA tangent.) so I didn't wake up until about 11, at which point I packed my stuff (new person's couch tomorrow!), showered, then decided I needed food so I headed out. Around 4pm. (I said that already.) I walked down the street, sporting my newly uploaded with music iPod and a blue shirt with my red hair and my white shoes. Yeah patriotism. Wandered into a Starbuck's, ordered my usual drink and a blueberry coffeecake, then sat down. According to the guy who made my drink, it was made "with love on this very lovely 4th of July, just for [me]." Awesome. Finished that up, then went to Central Park! The plan! Yes.

I ended up walking into Central Park at 4:30pm at 76th and Central Park West. Walked around for a bit until I found the reservoir, looked at it, wandered around a bit more, hung out by the tennis courts for about half an hour. By then I was getting hungry for actual food, so I decided that it was time to leave the park and go find something more nourishing than a chai tea latte and a blueberry coffeecake. Ha. That was about 5:15pm. I wandered around, looking for a way to get out, and eventually see a street. W. 100th St. and Central Park West. WHAT? I thought I had been walking SOUTH that whole time! Nope. I had been walking North. So I wandered around a bit more, hoping I was walking back the way I came, when I came to another street. Hurray, I can leave now! I check the sign. East 91st street. So now I've crossed over to the other side? Well shoot. I go back inside the park, decide to follow a path that looks like it goes west, then see another street. East 102nd St. So now I'm going North AND East, two directions I DON'T want to be going in. I go back inside the park, and see a map. Well, that's a map to the whole park, but there's no "YOU ARE HERE" to point out where I am! So I'm still just as lost. I eventually follow a path that leads me back over to the west side, when I just leave the park because I don't want to walk back to the east side again and follow the streets down. By the time I get out of the park, it's 7 o'clock.

I WAS LOST IN THE PARK FOR ALMOST TWO HOURS. Let me repeat that. TWO HOURS.

I went to Times Square to celebrate my liberation.
Bought a Magner's Irish Cider for myself. Mmm. Found out where some couple's hotel was for them (his phone died or something...I had google on my phone) and they bought me a drink. Bought another drink for myself. Closed my tab but didn't leave the bar yet because it was raining (and the fireworks were on TV! Duh.) Guy who was sitting next to me bought me a drink because I was sitting there drink-less.

Four drinks (and half a quesadilla? I think?) later, I am as happy as a clam. (Are clams happy? How does anyone know this? Are there studies? I want to see them.)

Also, some random guy on the subway asked me if he could teach me how to play tennis. Um. What?

Drink it up.

I like to drink.

Yes, that may seem like an obvious statement coming out of a 21 year olds mouth - or fingers as the case may be - but it's true. I enjoy drinking. Regardless of if it's wine, or malibu and pineapple juice, or Magner's Irish Cider, or kamikazees, or beer...I like it. However, that has caused some problems for me.

Fifteen days before my 20th birthday, I decided to stop drinking until I turned 21. The night before I decided to do that had been an excessively bad night where I had gotten blacked out drunk, banged my head eight times against eight different surfaces, told my friends I wanted to kill myself because I was so unhappy with the situation with my boyfriend Matt and my old roommate, ran into the street (it was late at night so luckily there were no cars coming), threw up multiple times, and passed out. Not such a good night.

The next day, Matt and I broke up. I resolved right then and there that the only way to figure out how to get my life back in order and take back control of the things I thought I could control was to stop drinking. So I gave it up. When I told my friends this, they thought I was crazy. Me, the nonstop party girl who always outdrank even the most capable of holding their liquor? I'd never be able to do it for a year! (My friends always show the greatest of confidence in me, huh?) (One of these days I'll write about how they actually do show confidence in me...)

But I had resolved to do it for me, just to prove to MYSELF that I was capable of doing something and following through. One week later, when I still hadn't had a drop of alcohol, I rewarded myself with a pint of ice cream. One month, a dinner at Olive Garden. Two months, a trip to a casino. Three months a play. Six months a dinner with all of my friends. I eventually made it to a year, without having even a taste of alcohol. A year was 16 days before my 21st birthday. I didn't do anything for the year anniversary of my giving up alcohol. I didn't feel it was as big of a deal as I had once built it up to be. I celebrated my 21st birthday in style, going to Vegas, having a mere four drinks on my birthday and declaring myself done. The next night I had one drink and decided that I didn't need to drink anymore, I had had enough the night before.

Recently I have found myself back in the same patterns as before I stopped drinking. Not as extreme, thank goodness, but taking one too many shot, or not eating enough before I start so everything hits me TWICE as hard.

And now that I'm visiting somewhere that I'm not used to, I shouldn't be exhibiting this kind of behavior. It's not like my college town, where everything is (seemingly) safe, people here are CRAZY! So, I'm resolving to drink less. Not stop drinking altogether, because I don't think that's necessary (nor do I want to give it up, I still like drinking!), but less. But hopefully socialize just as much.

Even though stumbling around and hitting on random strangers is quite fun.