Trust is Fleeting
One of the things my old flame Johnny used to say was that you always have choices.
That's true in this situation, too. I just don't know which choice to make.
I trusted someone close to me to not search out my blog. For over a year - actually, almost 18 months - I managed to avoid giving out my URL to certain people. I trusted that they knew I didn't want them reading me and I trusted that they would honor that.
I found out on Friday that that trust was misplaced, and I'm not sure how to handle any aspect of it - blogging continued.
I don't want to password-protect.
I don't want to scrap this site and move on. Doing so doesn't guarantee anything; if I was found once, I can be found again.
I don't want to censor myself; I've struggled enough with that in the past.
So that leaves me with...what?
Matrixed
Remember that scene in the Matrix - I think the first one - where those octopus things ate or sawed their way through, almost into the hull of the ship? Yeah. This blog's security has been breached. Please pardon it while the woman behind the computer figures out how the hell to move forward.
Conversationally So, Part 3
Everyone who's chimed in to the first two parts of this unexpected series have given me something to consider. I may not agree, but at least I'm looking at the situation with my eyes wider open. Let me try to give a little background as to how the conversation of job hunting even came up, and then I'll tell you what I'm actually doing about it, and again invite your input.
As I mentioned in part 1, an old schoolmate and I engaged in conversation about why one should leave a comfortable / good / exciting / well-paid / you-choose-the-description job for the unknown of something new. And while that conversation was triggered by the departure of a third classmate and colleague, there was another reason for the discussion.
For weeks, there had been rumors that my - our - company was going to ask for a voluntary reduction in staff. An enhanced retirement package would be offered in an attempt to cut costs and save the bottom line. At the time of the discussion, we knew only rumors, but that didn't stop the 'what-ifs' and the asking of 'would you take the payout?'
Now - present time - we know the details of the offer. And while I do enjoy my job, and I like the atmosphere, and I enjoy the vast majority of the people, and I am paid a liveable wage, and I do continuously find challenges and opportunities and feel I am embarking on a career rather than a job, well...I've also started thinking.
As any regular reader here knows, I have no social life. I, perhaps unwisely, chose to live in the suburbs to be close to the job, rather than in the city close to the people. While it might seem the solution is rather obvious, it's not. I don't want to gain social opportunities by losing 2+ hours a day in a commute.
So now comes a time where I could leave the job and move to a city that would offer more social opportunities while perhaps also offering a similarly promising career path. I could make the transition with a few extra bucks in the bank; I could leave on good terms; I could end up in a city with a lower cost of living and more affordable homes.
And so I'm looking and updating resumes and searching, and I'm torn. I still do feel that it's partly a waste of my time; that I really have no reason to leave the company.
And while that last statement is true - the career can't be the only part of my life that progresses. I just don't know whether it shouldn't be the most important.
In a Bad Way
It was snowing madly when I left work Friday, so I scrapped my plans of a movie-dinner date with myself and camped out on the couch. All was fine until I got into an arguement via phone with my sister, hung up on her, and burst into tears. I didn't leave the apt the entire weekend; granted, we got a few inches of snow, but still. In between horrible, body-wracking sob sessions, I gave my mind over to crappy TV and trashy novels - anything to take my mind away from here. It wasn't just the fight with my sister, but if I could explain what, exactly, it was, well... Tomorrow is supposed to be the biggest day for depression all year, or something like that. Great. I so need that.
Timing
It's almost funny, I suppose, how every time I feel it's just time to end things - every time I feel the past is over, and there's nothing in the future for us - you come through with an effort that makes me rethink my stance.
-----
It's not impossible; I'm not suggesting it is.
But I am stating that it's unfathomable.
Conversationally So, Part 2
As I alluded to in part 1, the 7 years E spent at my company hurt him in some job interviews. Interviewers were concerned, perhaps confused as to why he had stayed in one locale for so long. This suprised me; longevity equals loyalty, right? As
Vince said, "If you're changing jobs every few months," then that's a problem. Why would the converse also be true?
In my company - perhaps in the industry - people stay a very long time. Twenty years is not unusual; more is quite common. At 28, I've already been here five years. People come, out of college or high school, and they stay until they're forced out, they die, or they retire.
I'm not endorsing this practice, but I'm not condoning it either. Obviously, a good employee (for that's all this discussion focuses on) with many years in a company can be a great asset. If the four criteria mentioned in Part 1 (challenging atmosphere, comfortable work environment, liveable salary, and great benefits) are present, why should an employee need to leave? And why would the company want them to? And why wouldn't any outside company see that as a positive?
-----
Everyone says that the company won't look out for you; that you may be valuable, but you're not irreplaceable. I definitely agree with this in the grand scheme of things. In the teeny tiny picture though...I'm not so sure.
As stated above, many of my coworkers have been here for decades; some have been here since before I was born. They yammer on about how they 'used' to get 12% raises, and how they 'used' to have summer hours, and how they 'used' to get this, that and the other thing. They tell me how I have to go after everything I want myself, how no one will hand anything to me, how nothing comes easy. And I smile and I nod, but I'm thinking that's not been my experience.
No, a company won't look out for you when it comes down to push-and-shove. But it may look out for you during the day-to-day.
-----
I'm afraid to open my eyes, to scan the classifieds, to post on Monster. I'm afraid to leave the behemoth of the company I'm at for a number of reasons. Let's ignore, for the moment, the four criteria that are present for me here. Instead, let's look at the other facts: 1. I'm at a huge, nationally recognized company. The opportunities that exist here just aren't present at the majority of places. My friend E who left is now #5 in a company of 18. That's right, 18 people TOTAL. I have to admit, I'm a little afraid for him - where can he go in that situation? What chances are there? What networking can take place? Extreme example, but it works as an illustrator.
2. I'm afraid to burn bridges. It's not impossible nor unlikely that I could leave the present place, go somewhere else, not like it, or reach my max. potential there, or whatever - and want to come back. I'm afraid I will find that the grass is not greener, that the move was a mistake and there's no way to remedy it.
Let's face it - no matter how polite a leave is, some people refuse to let you back into their fold. I'm afraid of that.
3. Perhaps I'm more cynical than anyone else, but I take half of what any interviewer says with a grain of salt. Flex time? Of course. Benefits? Great. Pay? Competitive? Challenges and opportunities? Without bounds. But that's not always the case, and often you're too reliant to leave when you finally figure that out.
Sheesh mentioned that "...before applying and interviewing, I have to ask myself whether it seems to be a position that I would want." Wise move, Sheesh, but again...can you trust the interviewer to give you the straight scoop?
I know the situation here on that score. Is it worth trading for something that 'might' be better?
4. The guy I talked most to at the bar told me repeatedly that I'm selling myself short, that I could do a lot better than where I am now. I don't know that I agree.
I do a good job, but the environment here is so extremely centric that I do have doubts about making it anywhere else. And to bill myself as someone fantastic, to leave a comfort zone for a place and position where I may fall?
Perhaps you can see my hesitation.
-----
And when does money become the determining factor? I could make more money; who couldn't? Wouldn't a few extra hundred/thousand bucks a week/month/year make a difference to nearly everyone? When does - or should? - a significantly larger salary overshine the other three criteria?
I'm single with no kids. I worry about the future, probably more than is 'normal' for someone in my situation. I have a Roth IRA, a 401(k), a pension plan, and a money market. I don't spend fanatically, nor do I save at that level. I'm still frantically worried about my financial future - the 'what if's loom large and menacing, and I'm trying to prepare for them as best as I can.
Is more - or deeper, better - whichever word you want - financial security worth a less challenging atmosphere? Is it worth an environment of no team outings, no jeans days, no food days, no flex time, no holiday parties? Is it worth a few weeks vacation? My dream these days is of owning a house - which is no small feat in the area I live. $20k more a year would go a long ways in achieving that dream, but what's the hidden cost?
-----
Of course, I know none of these answers. But I appreciate your responses.
Hard to Please, Editorialized
I can't always be your cheerleader. - Work
Fuck you if I made you feel stupid; you are sucking the life from me. - Work
I'm not your personal vent-ee. - Work
I will stop taking your calls. - Work
Maybe you CAN'T do the job; I'm done telling you differently. - Work
I'm done hearing about how your husband annoys you. - Personal
I'm done hearing about how fat you are without doing a single fucking thing about it. - Personal
I'm tired of having a boss who puts me in an awkward position. - Work
I'm tired of people telling me I don't give myself enough credit. - Personal
I'm sick of watching you chew your fingers to the bone during meetings. - Work
I'm so, so tired of having to do everything myself. - Personal
I'm disgusted that I waited for your letter and even more disgusted that it never came. - Personal
I'm sick of people getting upset if I call them out on not doing their job, or for doing it poorly. If you knew the right way to do something...why didn't you do it the right way? - Work
I'm tired of feeling it's never enough. - Personal
I'm tired of the perception. - Work
I'm tired of the questions. They make me ill. - Personal
I'm done with the hope; it was fake anyway. - Personal
I'm sick of the worry. - Personal
I'm tired of the delays, of the false tries, of the insufficient solutions. - Personal
-----
I've had a hundred thoughts to get down but not the patience, apparently, to actually wield my fingers into crafting them.
I struggle. Often. More than I should, more than is necessary. But this helps. Sorta. Sometimes.
Guess that beats nothing.
Defeated
I remember not much longer than a year ago, sneaking around and thinking I was being cryptic and secretive and oh-so-cute. God that must have been nauseating. And oh-so-transparent.
-----
I took a few minutes today to reread an old 'Journal of Hate.' Before I began blogging, but after Ex dropped me, I needed an outlet to purge all the nasty, pent-up, spurned and scorned and painful feelings I have. I dated each entry and added to the journal. It helped me get through the moment, and it helped me breathe again until the next.
For months on end, there were multiple entries. They trickled out, though, and it's been oh, at least 9 months since I had even read any of it. The feelings are still there, but they're not strong enough now to need purging.
What hurt the most, I think, was that I made him work for my trust, and he proved he was worthy of it. Until he wasn't.
-----
March 22 creeps ever closer. I hate that it's still difficult.
-----
And what made it all so incredibley beyond shitty was that I was finally okay. I was finally stable. I had finally owned up to being a mess and was finally past that. That you chose then to leave - that you stuck by me when I needed you most and gave me space when I claimed I needed it, when I pushed you away - but that you waited until I was as happy with myself as I had ever been -
then, you left. It made me doubt anything prior we had had; it made me wonder if you were always wanting to leave but never brave enough.
I've always thought I loved you, but looking back now...rereading things now...well. Perhaps it's best you left; it's apparent that you weren't healthy for me.
But you could have been.
Conversationally So
Left work a tad early today to go to a going-away party for a classmate of mine. E is a years older than I am and we've enjoyed a sarcastic banter with our friendship over the past couple years. He's left the company for greener pastures, and today was his last day.
A second classmate friend, T, showed up, and he and I had an interesting conversation while E mingled. T and I talked at length about the performance review and raise mentality, schedule, and excution of our company, and we talked at length about when and why one should look elsewhere for employment.
And he may have raised some points that have caused me to think. I HATE that!
Should one who has a job she enjoys that provides a challenging atmosphere, comfortable work environment, liveable salary, and great benefits - i.e., no discontent with the current job - look elsewhere because she may not know better until she finds it?
Let's call those factors 1-4, and deem them the deciding factors in accepting a job.
My stance was that the factors should be taken into consideration as a whole. Pay isn't squat if the job sucks. If the job's great but you can't live on the salary, that sucks. If you have a liveable salary and a good job, but you have nowhere to go in the company and/or shitty empl;oyees, the job sucks.
This was going to be a really good post, but 3 beers take its toll. I'll pick up tomorrow. Sober.
Mini Tuesday
Anyone see Drew Barrymore's globes on prominent display?
Sheesh. Get a bra, woman!
-----
Remember the Irish coworker I had a crush on a few months back? Well, BBB just told me that the Irish guy is coming here for a work visit! He'll be here for two weeks, starting at the end of the month. I'm sure we'll all go out at least once or twice. FUN!
-----
While cold canteloupe may be a tasty breakfast, it in no way is filling.
-----
This idiot yesterday emailed me 4 times and called me 5 times to discuss something that was apparently urgent. However, since I was in meetings all freaking day, and since he left very few voicemails and marked nothing urgent, I didn't respond immediately.
I emailed him today and asked him to mark things 'urgent' if he needs a prompt response.
Seriously, people have to be told this stuff? Apparently, because it works - he just emailed me with an urgent request - but seriously...
-----
HA!-----
If you're in the bathroom, and you can hear someone else in there, it might be a good idea to keep your moans, groans and grunts to yourself.
Geeked Out
I bought this yesterday and put it together all by my lonesome:
I used it to lug groceries inside:
Notice the soda? Four 12packs are now living comfortably on the 4th floor. There will be no more shortage!
And tonight it was inagurated into the world of Peon Laundry:
Oh, and did I mention I finally got a digital camera?
Anniversary
If you knew then what you knew now...would you do it again?
I know my answer. Do you know yours?
:-(
I'm a sad Peon tonight for a myriad of reasons.
Normally I'd sit and smoke and drink all night, but I'm off smokes again.
That's okay, I still have liquor - a bottle of icewine, 2 unopened bottles of rum, and some amaretto.
It's just too bad I have no soda to go along with that...
-----
When I went into work this morning, it was raining fairly hard.
When I went out to lunch today, it was snowing like nobody's business.
When I left work this evening, it was again raining and chilly.
Just now, when I ran out to my car, it was clear and crisp.
Fuckin' Chicago weather.
-----
I should just go to bed and call it a week.
My $759,000 Yacht
Went to the Chicago Boat Show today as a work outing. (Trust me, there was a valid connection.) Some of these boats were absolutely ginormous. A 3-bedroom, 2bathroom boat with a washer and dryer was nicer than my apartment. There was also a $1.2million boat, but you had to have an appointment to step foot on that one.
One flyer in the used boat section advertised a 2006 model worth $2.7million. The boat was 65 feet long. The owner was selling because s/he was 'moving up' and would accept any 'reasonable offer.' La di da!
Needless to say, I won't be purchasing a boat any time soon.
After we poked around the show, our bus took us for lunch at our area vice-president's condo. On the 5th and top floor of the building, with hardwood floors and a large wall of windows, the condo is very much a bachelor pad. Big screen TV...dart board...electric fireplace in the middle that is open on both sides, warming both in front and behind it.
The second floor houses the bedroom and a second bathroom; stairs from that level lead up to the rooftop patio. He's expecting to drop about 2grand for tickets to this weekend's Bears game.
Ah, how the other side lives...
Disturbing Dream #8275
First, thanks to all for your comments on the below post. You gave me a lot to think about and once I have some time to adequately do so, I'll be revisiting that topic.
For now though, it's time to recap last night's horrifying dream.
It was my high school reunion, which I've already gone to, but dreams don't really care much about reality. The horrifying part was that apparently I forgot my clothes.
At the 'real' reunion, I forgot the outfit I specifically wanted to wear to the party. That was bad enough. In my dream, though, I forgot most all of my clothes and walked around with a towel covering my naughty bits.
"Hi, remember me? Yeah, 10 years gone by. What? Oh, the towel. Yep, I'm naked under here. I'd shake your hand, but, well, you understand."
Yeah. Great.
And to top it all off, I had to walk ALL around the hotel, trying to find the room I was staying in with my gfs. When I got there, I found a big glass shower in the middle of the room.
So what else would I do but shower with Wilmer Valderama?
We steamed up the walls quite a bit...but when we finally broke suction, I noticed the steam had dissipated and my gfs could clearly see a naked Katey in the shower making out. Not so much what they need to see. EVER. Dream or not.
Note to self: Begin weaning from That 70's Show and the E! series on revealing celebrity fashions. Rosario Dawson is personally responsible for my dream.
Why I'll Rot in Hell
A coworker of mine, S, was diagnosed last year (2005) with breast cancer.
She went through chemo and lost her hair but kept her breasts. That's an ending I'll take, right? Hair grows back, breasts...not so much.
Short-term disability requires only one week of vacation time spent before kicking in at our company (is that a nationwide requirement?). If you're on STD, you also continue to get paid for the time away. It's a pretty sweet deal, if you ignore the whole reason you're on STD in the first place.
S has been with the company for 15+ years. Our company gives you 4 weeks combo vacation/sick time per year. At your 5th anniversary and multiples thereafter, you get an additional week. So for people like S, she gets a minimum 7 weeks vacation/sick time a year.
That's important to know because, as S was on disability for the roughly 7 months she was battling cancer, it only cost her one week of her yearly vacation time.
Which meant when she came back into work, just before Thanksgiving, cancer-free, she still had three weeks of vacation time left to use or lose.
No one wants to lose vacation time, especially around the holidays, sooooo she took the time off.
In between decking the halls, she also broke her wrist. Not just any break - the kind of break that requires surgery and 6 weeks recovery.
So, yes, she's back on disability.
I have no heart. I am a capitalist pig and I'm in favor of big business (to a degree). I'm glad that S was able to recover in as much time as she needed; I'm glad she and her family didn't have to worry about income during her time of need; and I'm glad she's now healthy and in remission.
However.
I also find the benefits to be excessive and outrageous. Yes, if I had to utilize them to that extent, I'd be writing something different. But since so far I haven't needed that much disability, and haven't had something that serious to deal with, I continue to think that - outside of the cancer - it was a pretty sweet deal.
Got back on the treadmill today for the first time in months. Why oh why did I think it was a good idea to take, like, 3 months off from it?
Sigh. Not quite up to
Mikey's stamina, nor
Julie's - the day you catch me biking to work is the day I've stolen someone's bike and lost my sanity - but at least I'm back on.
I'm also thinking about signing up for this 2month fitness program one of the park districts is offering. It's 16 sessions for cheaper than joining a gym, which I've done and never gone to, but for some reason I think a class will be different.
While cleaning my kitchen tonight, I found a $150 check my dad wrote me for something I fronted for him a few months ago. Sweet! I went shopping today with the hope of dropping oodles of cash on new work clothes, but I found absolutely nothing (maybe because I got discouraged after one store). So I bought three new CDs instead - Best of Culture Club, a RENT soundtrack that has been playing nonstop for the past couple hours, and then a compilation CD for the treadmill. I love good new music.
That's definitely a trade-off I can live with, especially as I have yet to unpack from last weekend's time away.
And speaking of...enjoy the rest of your weekend!
Um...Hi, How Have You Been?
Remember
Online Boy from a few months ago? No? Well, check the link to find out more. I hadn't heard from him since his last stupid email. Until today. He emailed me pics of his New Year's party. No message, just the link to Shutterfly or Flickr or whatever it is he uses. So, do I write him back? Ask how he is? Or do I just...do nothing?
Okay, the
hot chick from
The Hot Chick? She was so much hotter in
Mean Girls.
-----
I just knocked my mouse off the desk. Do you know what a pain it is to get the mouse from the floor BEHIND the desk? I have to, like, scoot the desk forward a little, then reach towards the middle of it, impaling my gut on its sharp corner. Not to mention, there are scary things down there.
But at least I can grab my meds too while I'm down there, since I just knocked THEM off too. SON OF A!!
-----
A coworker was in my cube today, and we were very obviously poring over a document on my desk. R came by to stand in the doorway of my cube. "Don't mind me, I don't mean to interrupt." Um...okay. What DID you want, then? "I'm just here to take a number." Blank stare. "I need Katey when you two are done." Coworker said we wouldn't be long. "Oh, that's okay, I'm no rush."
Okay, FREAK. We share a cube wall. That wall is low enough to see over when you stand. If it's not a rush, then note that I'm busy and catch me when I'm not.
Fucker. I later told him not to interrupt me. Am I the only one who thinks this shouldn't be that hard?
-----
Will someone please buy me the
Vanity Fair with Lindsay Lohan on the cover? I promise not to read any of the insipid article.
Shittier
I will be going home. Soon. I will make myself a nice big glass of Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper (dear universe let me have some left!) and Amaretto.
And then I will sit down and cry-eye.
Shit
After an almost completely sleepless night on Tuesday, I went to bed about 10:30 last night. Didn't want to go to bed TOO early, for fear I'd wake up at 4am, ready to go.
So instead, I tossed and turned until around midnight last night. When I finally fell asleep for good, I slept long and hard. So long and hard that it was a miracle I woke up at all.
AT 9:45 AM.
Never mind I had a 9am meeting. Never mind I had a 10am meeting. I immediately called boss lady, who laughed at me, and agreed to move the 10am meeting up until 10:30. I hopped in the shower, threw on some clothes, and got to work.
Where I spent 10 minutes looking for a parking spot, only to end up FAR from my cube. I work in Building E, which is on the North East side of the building. I parked in front of Building B, the South West corner. Go me!
Then, in my 10/10:30 meeting, I found out that the document I sent last Wednesday, 12/28, was the wrong document. Never mind that everyone was supposed to review it ahead of time and no one did, so no one told me so I could have fixed the mistake, but that basically meant the meeting was shot and we need another one.
Due to the timing of things, the meeting has to be tomorrow. Great, everyone likes a lunchtime meeting on Friday, right?
Someone put me out of my misery. Please?
Get Bent!
Okay, so, what IS the deal with
That 70's Show? Apparently Eric's not on the new season? Yeah, I only watch the reruns on FX, so what?
Maybe there's a 'real' viewer out there who can tell me what the point is of having Jackie on the show. She's not cute. She whines a lot, and when she's not whining, she's pouting. So unattractive.
And Kelso. Seriously. Why is he even on the show? Don't even tell me it's for comedic relief, for I may hurl my Diet Cherry Vanilla Dr. Pepper over my dusty keyboard.
But
Hyde...Hyde...I'd like to play hide and seek with him. I like his laid-back attitude, his dry humor, his unexpected smile when I join him in the shower, the way his curly locks give me something to hold on to...
Oh, you're still here?
Part of my lust for Hyde is attributed to his likeness to
CK, my high school crush. They're both stoners (or at least I'm presuming CK hasn't given that up), they both have this curly reddish hair, they're both above or perhaps beyond the petty everyday shit that people get wrapped up in.
What? Hyde's a fictional character and perhaps I'm reading too much into things?
Good day, I say!
Leftovers
I threw out some of the leftover holiday goodies because I was so sick of them. The leftover baklava, however, will be consumed.
Sprint is trying to charge me for my free upgrade. Fuckers! If someone would have answered my first, second, or third call to customer service today, this could have been resolved already. Fuckers.
I did some useless cleaning last night - my makeup/hair cabinet in the closet, to make room for the new soaps and lotions I received; some shredding of documents that have piled up. Tonight I made chili and cleaned up the kitchen a little. Remind me to get leftovers ready for lunch tomorrow before bed.
I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow; they're supposed to have my pathology reports back. About two weeks ago I had a very very uncomfortable very PAINFUL biopsy done from a place where no biopsies should ever be done again EVER. I actually hope they've found something, for I've been having some issues for months now that aren't getting resolved. If they haven't found anything, then...I don't know what I'm going to do.
I did actually get most of my Turkey pics developed and am thinking of uploading some so I can show them off. That's progress, right?
I managed a brief but good conversation with New Girl today - all personal talk. I learned a few things about her that surprised me. I like when people surprise me, when I think I have them somewhat figured out and then BAM they throw a curveball at me.
The other night I dreamt that BBB and I were competing against each other in the Real World/Road Rules challenge. I so need to stop watching that.
I finished
The Nanny Diaries tonight and was really disappointed by the ending. I wanted Nan to really stick it to Mrs. X. Stupid fiction book.
I have such a crush on
Hyde from
That '70s Show. He even has my birthday, if you subtract a year and add a couple months. That means it's fate, right?
More New Year's to (Sorta) Remember
The first time I got drunk was New Year's of my junior year in high school. I had been drinking before that - Everclear in the parking lot, wine coolers at the house party, but that New Year's I got ddddRUNK.
Me and the girls - well, two of them anyway - gathered with the rest of the crew at Chris's dad's trailer. Dad was gone; the liquor was present. I don't remember a hell of a lot, outside of shooting daggers at 'the freshman,' the girl my crush was crushing on. I crawled around on the floor a lot, shushing the plants, since one of the girl's boyfriends was already passed out in the back. Quiet, please!
Chris's dad showed up at some point, and before he started chasing Chris around with a frying pan, he skeeved us out by brushing one of the girls hair and exclaiming over how pretty it was.
We left soon after and went to the local Perkins. I tried repeatedly to pour myself water, missing the glass at least four times before my crush lent me a hand. After we sobered up a bit, my girl J and I went to her boyfriend's mom's house. I snoozed on the sofa almost immediately; they were nice enough to cover me and shoo the dog away.
When we all woke up in the am, I joined them on his bed. Unfortunately, his room was lined with empty liquor bottles - not the best atmosphere. Still, I made it through without any recap of my stomach's contents.
-----
I wasn't that lucky on New Year's my senior year in high school. Two of our older guy friends owned a house out in the serious boondocks. I don't know what I drank, but I do know I was drunk enough to land some serious kisses on my crush, my girl L's step-brother. He wasn't interested or that amused, but everyone else was. Ah, liquid encouragement.
I also kissed Roy, a serious badass who had caused trouble with my girl N before I got in the state. However, Roy was never anything but charming and sweet to me, which caused N some disbelief and some words of warning to me. He and I talked a bit of smack and then smacked a bit of lip.
There was also a third guy I kissed that night; it may have been Z, who's older brother owned the house. He came in to check on me once I had to lie down, and found great amusement in the fact that the room was spinning on me. He was, however, a good friend of mine, and made sure I was comfy and covered.
After the party broke up, J and I went back to her house, where we crashed. Mom picked me up in the morning for church, the only condition of letting me stay at J's the night before. She had asked me what we would be doing and thought we were up to something, but luckily I was able to convince her otherwise.
Until, of course, the middle of mass, where I started to not feel so well. I made it to the bathroom before puking my guts out. Those cold tile walls felt so good on my face. Mom, however, was not as impressed.
-----
Last night? Well, last night I was in bed about 11:30 and read fairy tales for about an hour. Happy New Year, indeed.
