Day 25!!! Half-Way There!!!!

I AM HALF WAY THERE!!!!!

I feel great but I'm miserable. 

Song lyrics about drinkin'

"And the only time I feel alright is when I'm into drinking, It sort of eases the pain of it and levels out my thinking"

"There's a smell of stale fear that's reeking from our skins. The drinking never stops because the drinks absolves our sins"

"Since you've been gone my world's been dark and gray. You reminded me of brighter days. I hoped you were coming home to stay. I was headin' off to church. I was off to drink you away!"

Why I really stopped drinking . . .

Some people think that I stopped drinking because I woke up naked, on my brothers couch wrapped in a blanket with very little recollection of how I got there. Now, one would think that alone would drive someone to stop drinking. But let's be honest, I knew I had a problem when I woke up naked, on my brothers couch, with a pricker in my foot, alone. The key word being "alone." Let's just say that if I had woke up next to some hottie I would probably be drinking a nice glass of wine right now.

Day 24 - Happy St. Patrick's Day . . . . fuckers!

7:30am - I wake up to day 24 of sobriety which happens to be St. Patrick's Day. I'm half Irish and love to drink and will not be able to part take in the festivities. So on behalf of my sobriety I wish you a happy St. Patrick's Day and hope the green beer flows like water . . . fuckers!

My boss proceeds to tell me that I need to get laid.  It has been some time (about a month or so) and I'm getting ancy. 

I have been taking my sobriety and sexual frustration out on the soccer field. That's going well. 

I realized today that my ally in drinking has straight up been avoiding me. That would be Capps. He hasn't called or written since I declared my intentions to remain sober. Our friendship is based in spite so I am a little concerned.

Did I mention that I'm Irish and it St. Patrick's Day and I can't drink? Oh, yeah. 

7:30pm: I go down to O'Works (office St. Patty's Day party) to soberly mingle with co-workers. I knock back a cup of OJ. Later I find myself chewing on the side of my red solo cup. 

9:30pm: I send out an email to 4 company partners about a slide deck (a PowerPoint presentation).

9:38pm: I realize that instead of sending a slide deck to the 4 partners I sent a "dick".  Yep, I inserted the word "dick" instead of "deck" into a email that was disseminated to my boss and 4 partners. Fuck my life.

On a serious note (if you don't like serious don't read this). 

My mother was born on March 17th, 1959, today would have been her 50th birthday.

So awhile back I had mention that I thought of a cool way to reach out to young single parents living in urban areas.  This brain child came from a discussion with my good friend Sir Hemingway and some nursery designing that I have been doing for another friend.  

Sir Hemingway and I were talking about how exposing your children to ideas provokes thought. For instance, if you put a glow-in-the-dark star constellation on your child's ceiling it is going to stay with that child and conjure curiosity. So I was thinking of starting a housing initiative, working with housing projects and other government groups, to set up a program where artists can draw and paint murals for children living in housing projects. I would inevitably love for it to develop into a mentor program for young mothers. It's a grand idea so we'll see.

Days 21 and 23 - Well behaved women rarely make history

Day 21

This is the first day I have had off from work in 12days. What do I on my only day off? I clean. I dream of sipping a nice cold margarita but I clean. I do laundry, vacuum, clean the bathroom, clean out the fridge, change my sheets and make my bed.

Around 2pm my roommate Jake asks if I want to walk to the PATH with him so I can catch the train to soccer while he goes out drinking with his friends.

I often talk about my other roommate Guy but I never talk about Jake. I did not change his name because he is not sleeping with half of the five boroughs, Hoboken and Jersey City. But for posterity's sake we will call him Calamity Jake.

Both of my roommates are quite the drinkers but Jake always finds himself in some drunken ridiculous situations . . .and here are a few to wet your palette.

1. We have a Valentine's Day party. The cops show up. Guy and I are schmoozing with them trying to clear the air and cooperate. Earlier in the evening (around 9pm) some random guy pissed in our flower pot bird feeder thingy. Jake in a drunken tangle comes out into the hall and yells at the police officers, "You should be chasing down the guy who pissed in our flower pot!" He immediately storms back into the apartment. Luckily the officers found him amusing.

2. One drunken night Jake steps in some cat shit. He tracks it through the foyer and into the apartment. He does not realize what he had done until later when he steps in the remnants of the cat shit in his bare feet. He, needless to say, was grossed out.

3. Last Friday Jake is bar hopping around Jersey City with Guy. Guy heads out into Manhattan for the weekend and Jake goes to the Hard Grove to meet up with his siblings. It's around 6:30pm, he is sitting at the bar drinking a

Heineken when he notices the bartender pour 5 shots of 151 and light them on fire. He thinks to himself, "Wow that's ambitious" and turns back to his beer. A few seconds later he hears a crash, the flaming shots have been knocked over and the wall size tapestry lining the bar is on fire. After a few minuets of observing the situation Jake asks if he should call 911. The other bar tenders says, "Um, Yeah!!!" He goes outside and calls 911. The operator asks, "Is the Hard Grove on fire?" Jake responds, "A, Sort of."

9pm: I'm home, watching TV, sober on a Saturday night. I think to myself. My original goal was to just give up alcohol for these 50 days. If I could have stuck with that I could totally be smoking pot, doing coke and taking my landlord up on his offer of GHB. Boy, did I mess this up!

Day 22

I'm over my angstiness. Sometimes you have to be angsty but I think in general I am a mean sober.

I spent a good part of the day working on a slide deck for another business pitch. My Aunt and cousins came by for lunch. I realized while we were talking I had nothing good to say about anyone. Here are some quick hits on why I am a mean sober.

1. I want to punch someone in their fat face for having a bad attitude

2. I hope Nicole Ritchie's little sister doesn't grow up to be a dumb ass like Nicole

3. I don't think women should take care of men. In general if you are an adult you need to take care of yourself

4. On the same token I don't think women should except anyone to take care of them. I think they should be self sufficient and stop trying to find a fucking husband to "take care of them"

5. In general if you need to be taken care I will take care of you with my foot up yo' ass

6. When my nieces and nephews act up I do/will beat their asses down the street

7. Bridal showers are stupid. If I ever get married I'm not having one. I have been the recipient of many bridal registries and I always think to myself, "who really wants this shit." If people want to give you a gift, they should just give you what they want with a gift receipt. People don't register for birthday gifts. If you get a shitty gift you either live with it or you re-gift it

In short I am a horrible person and very blunt when I am sober. My cousin Lois says I'm always like that . . . . . but I whole heartedly disagree.

I think sobriety makes me edgier. Alcohol smooths the edges but sobriety leaves me no choice but to get down to business. I noticed that I'm reverting back to my edgier self. I'm listening to more Marilyn Manson and Tool than usual. I also tend to drive faster. PS. WTF happened to my radio station. I really don't need to hear Britney Spears on five fucking stations, thank you very much.

7pm: I show up to line judge for soccer. I am asked to actually play the game that I am supposed to be judging. I'm psyched because I'll get to play two games today. I realize playing soccer is my new crutch, albeit a healthy one, until I can start drinking again. I think drinking is a better crutch than playing soccer.

Day 23

I think I need to figure out a way to go out and be social enough to pick out my "male accessory" for spring. My sister suggested this since her winter male accessory is quickly going out of style. I'd like a nice spring accessory. Since I'm trying to be less commitment phobic maybe my accessory will turn into a relationship . . . or not. I also feel that finding a spring male accessory while I'm sober is false advertising. I don't think a guy can fairly assess my qualities until he has experienced my ability to have sex like a porn star.

I feel the need to misbehave. I think I might need to curb the cursing a little though, . . . just a little.

Days 19 and 20

I'm in a funk so I'm merging Days 19 and 20

Why am I in a funk? Sometimes that's just how things roll. Maybe it's because I realized that it is damn near impossible to have sex like a porn star when you're sober or maybe its because day 20 coincides with Friday the 13th or maybe I realize that I'm never going to break the Gemini habit.

Experts think that drinking makes people depressed. Well I feel it is the other way around. Alcohol is like my lithium. It makes me normal, like the other people. I should itemize alcohol as a medical expense next year on my taxes.

Sometimes I struggle with my need to be me and the pressure to acclimate to what the normal people do. And every time I remotely think about being normal or make a minimal effort at being like everyone else it becomes painfully apparent why I belong on the other side of the street.

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.  And fuck all y'all who don't like me and what I do. Amen.

Day 18

9:15am: I get a call from my brother. He wants me to order something for him online. When I ask what it is, he tells me he wants the Rosetta Stone for Spanish. Now a little background here; my brother has been trying to learn Spanish so that he can date Dominican girls. He loves Dominican girls but they won't date a guy who can't speak Spanish. My brother went as far as to watch Dora The Explorer with his daughter to bone up on his Spanish. So needless to say I make fun of him.

11am: I look Rosetta Stone up on the internet. The full set costs $550. I call my brother and ask if this is really worth it just to get some ass. I told him he could buy five nights with a Dominican hooker for that much.

6pm: We have a soccer organizational meeting at Aspen. I successfully do not drink any alcohol but knock back 3 diet cokes.

8pm: I download the new Slipknot. It reminded me of the time I broke Matt Chaney's collarbone moshing to Megadeath's Symphony of Destruction. My sixteen-year-old self would totally kick my twenty-seven year old self.

Penn State Memory - Tequila Night

While I was at Aspen with the soccer team a few of us got to talking about Penn State. PSU forever!!! Tequila Night came to mind.

Tequila night was an accident really. My roommates and I were having a little pre-game party before going out. We happened to buy some different types of tequila. Then Aimee, aka; Arut and Butterslut, also brought some Cabo Wabo and Tequila Rose. So we had about 20 shots of tequila in 45mins. The drunkness hadn't hit me yet so we headed to a party. We get to the party and I decide that the only way to wash down 20 shots of tequila was to do a keg stand. The first keg stand went so well I did a second one. Later on that night I was in a corner making out with some guy. I abruptly stop making out with him and walk home. I'm not sure what happened after that but he said something to piss me off. So to spite him I started to take my clothes off and throw them behind me. He kindly picked up each article as I discarded. I walked down the streets of state college half dressed slurring some feminist rhetoric. By the time I got to my apartment I was wearing nothing but my scarf which coincidentally was laying right over my breasts.

Sobriety is miserable.

Days 16 and 17

So I know my blog has been lagging and I truly apologize. I've been preparing for a presentation at work and it has screwed things up.  So now I'm back on schedule  . . . . . for a little bit anyway.

Day 16

11am: My boss mentions something about her son's 4th birthday party and I hear the word "cupcakes." I know Crumbs cupcakes are involved in this baby shindig so I invite myself along.  I realize this is the perfect social engagement for someone struggling to stay sober. Why? Three reasons: 1. Um, there will be Crumbs cupcakes 2. It won't seem awkward that I'm at a party and not drinking (I certainly won't be the only one) 3. I won't have to worry about being hit-on or any awkward sober flirting. This is brilliant, I plan to crash as many children's birthday parties as possible. 

1pm: Things are getting a little stressful as we are preparing for our presentation. I realize that  I love saying the "F-word" not Fuck, just the "F-word". Kidding. We all know I like to say "fuck". It helps me relieve stress which would usually be relieved by a glass of Maker's Mark. I also enjoy the word "cunt". Yep. I like that word. I'd like to use it on some choice people in the office but I have a feeling that might get me in some hot water with HR.

11:50pm: I arrive home. I return my roommates alarm clock to him. He thought he had gotten drunk and some how lost it until he read my blog. Per usual he is upstairs with one of his girls. I'm not sure who it is and don't stick around to find out.

Day 17 

12:01am: I'm rehearsing in my room for the presentation that I have in a few hours. I am interrupted by the sounds of something crashing on the floor above me. At first I thought something fell  . . . .but as the creaking and crashing continued I realized it was Guy going at it with the girl he had over.  I continue to rehearse and the noise continues.  I actual realize now that by the sounds coming from above me which girl he has over.  I can tell who he is fucking by the bed creaking morse code. I like this one so it's cool.

12:32am: At this point it feels like a wrecking ball has been crashing into my brownstone.  At this point I'd wish he'd finish already . . . I have to get up in a few hours.  But a half hour is pretty decent so you have to give credit where credit is due.

2:15pm: After the presentation our group goes out to lunch. Most of my team exits the restaraunt before me.  I walk out of the restaurant to find my colleagues staring to the east. Oswaldo, who is a hysterically funny Cuban gay guy, has a complete look of disgust on his face.  I ask him what is wrong.  He very loudly says, "That lady is walking her cat . . . like on a leash." I look over and she surely is. Oswaldo flips his head around, raises his hand and states,"Fucking white people. They'll put a leash on anything. Dogs, cats, children. Black people and Latin people don't do that shit. They'll just fuck you up if you try to run away."

6:54pm: I sit on my bed.

8pm: I wake up in a puddle of my drool wondering where I am.

9pm: I decide I am going to take a bath, relax, then plan a date with my vibrator.  My friend Erik once told me that it is important to orgasm as much as possible. He said that it is extremely healthy, that it relieves stress and helps your skin.  Well I'm not big on plastic surgery, so anything to keep my skin looking young. 

9:45: I realize that I gave my roommate the batteries from my vibrator for the DVR remote. Fuck my life.

Days 13 -15

Hey everyone. Sorry for my delay in posting. I've had to work all weekend so I haven't had much time or energy to get down to bitching about my sobriety.

Day 13

So today I'm being set-up by my friend Fannie and her husband, Alex, at their tattoo shop's one year anniversary party. I'm usually so against set ups because I'm weird and a geek but Fannie is always looking out for me so I couldn't say no. Since I'm not drinking alcohol you can multiply the weirdness and geekiness by a 100, in short I'm lame.

My usual approach to dating goes a little like this: go to a bar, get shitfaced, end up talking to a guy who I find intriguing on some level, suggest that we make out, inevitably take him home with me. If he doesn't annoy me in the morning and I remember his name then I offer him my number. I feel this weeds out the unnecessary bullshit present in early courtship. So agreeing to this "meet and greet" sober was a bad idea on my part. 

1opm: I arrive at Fannie's to meet up with Justine. Justine is another girl who is being set-up. Note: Fannie is preggers with her second baby so she needs something to occupy her time.

11pm: I head over to the bar where the party is being held. The place is packed! Justine needs a wristband. Alex cleverly sends me over to Matt, the guy I'm supposed to meet, to get a wrist band. 

I go over to Matt to ask for a wristband. He is also one of the owners of the shop, so I feel a little like a groupie.  Being that I am sober I'm not sure how to maneuver in this situation. If I had knocked back two Jack and Gingers I could have easily handled this situation but all I was armed with was a diet coke and my wits. I'm lame so I kindly ask if he is Matt and tell him McWatt sent me over for a wristband. He adorably smiles and kindly gives me a wristband.

I give Justine her wristband. She graciously tries to talk me out of my sobriety. She told me that I should "give up the want to be a raging alcoholic" for lent instead of the actual act of drinking. Of course that would have been a great idea 13 days ago.

Justine and I get to talking about the guys that we were sent to meet. I said mine seems cool and is adorable but I feel a little like a groupie. And I'm too old to be a groupie. So she gets hell bent on getting me to talk to Matt. That's when my assertive instinct kicked in. I said I'll just go up to him, give him my card and tell him that Fannie is trying to set us up. So in short that is exactly what I did, except that I didn't have any business cards so I wrote my name and number on the back of a pack of gum. 

Of course my grand idea of being direct didn't really work out that well.  I was completely ridiculous. I stuttered and kept looking down while I was talking. It was like a bad episode of Saved By The Bell. Luckily Matt was kind enough to ignore my social awkwardness and pretend that I was sort of normal. If I was drunk in this situation I would have totally made out with him. Sobriety is ruining my life.

Day 14

12pm: I'm making my way out and run into a group of guys head banging. It reminded me of the time I broke Matt Chaney's collar bone while moshing to Megadeath's Symphony of Destruction. 

12:15am: My phone rings. Its my Aunt V.A. Our conversation goes like this.

Aunt V.A.: Hello, Veeee.Aaaaa

Me: Hi Aunt V.A.

Aunt V.A.: What are you doing?

Me: Walking home from a bar in Brooklyn that I didn't drink at.

Aunt V.A.: You didn't drink? Are you sure. You sound like you've been drinking.

Me: I haven't drank in 13 days. Trust me, I'm sober.

Aunt V.A.: Well, I've been drinking.

Me: I've gathered that.

6am: I wake up to what sounds like a wrecking ball going through my living room. It's my roommate fucking some girl. I'm convinced one day his bed is going to come through my ceiling. Fuck that. I'm annoyed, I can't even make out and this guy is fucking everything that moves. 

10:15am - 8:30pm: I'm at work on a Saturday. Fuck my life

Day 15

6am - My roommates alarm clock is going off. He's not home and it's Sunday. I go upstairs unplug his fucking alarm clock and throw it in the trash. If he's not waking me up with his stomping bed above me, his alarm clock is playing proxy to my suffering.

10:45 am - 10:15pm I'm at work. I guess work is the best place to be if I'm not drinking.

Life is difficult