Okay. But, seriously.
What. The. Fuck.
I woke up from the fucking dead this morning. Three layers of a burrito wrapper scattered throughout every layer of my bed, the right side of which was perfectly untouched, rice all over the sheets, the headache from hell, and absolutely no idea what happened last night.
I texted Dan. He responded right away and said that he had no idea what happened with the rest of his night either, but that he woke up spooning a bowl of ramen noodles. I can always count on that boy.
The mess continued. I tried to be vertical for a while, but that didn’t last long. I downed my morning vitamin cocktail and still found myself out of commission, so I sucked it up and took a Tylenol. I don’t like taking pain killers, which is ironic considering the abundance of toxins I put into my body on a regular basis, but it is what it is. Fortunately, the Tylenol worked. I felt so much better afterwards.
Around 10 a.m., I slowly began to get my life together. By that, I mean I cleaned up the mess that was my apartment, including vacuuming the crusty burrito rice off my bed sheets. Then the messages started coming through. Oh, no.
My phone buzzed. It was a Facebook Messenger text from Jeremy, my DJ friend from last night.
Jeremy: “I lost track of you tonight 😞 Was really happy to see you!”
Umm…what? I had no idea what happened or where I was last night. Lost track of me? What the fuck was this guy talking about?
I was so embarrassed. I didn’t want to let Jeremy know that I was blackout drunk, so I tried to convey my confusion as vaguely as possible.
Kurt: “I lost track of myself lol. Nice to see you as well! Sorry I got to your party so late.”
Jeremy: “Lol! No need to apologize. I hope you didn’t freeze getting home.”
Kurt: “I got a burrito to warm me up. But now I have to deal with the rice in my bed. Where did we even go? I had like 1400 tequila shots so my memory is hazy at best.”
Jeremy: “Lol. We went to Club 120. You were cuddly in the car which was quite cute.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. No. What the hell!
Kurt: “Fuck. I had no idea what that club was. Did you have a good night at least?”
Jeremy: “I had a great night! Saw a slew of my favorite people.”
Kurt: “Amazing!”
I left it at that. “Amazing!” was my way of saying, “That’s nice. Goodbye, and let’s never speak of this again.” Moving on.
After I finished getting myself together, I took my ice-covered car off the street and made my way to Casa Z. Once I arrived at the house, I tried to make some food to cure my hangover, but my body was not having it. I suppose there are worse problems.
I spent some time editing a collection of MOMENTS pictures that I wanted to post on Facebook, and then my phone buzzed again. It was Dustin Hayes, another friend I only ever seem to encounter when I’m partying. Before I even opened the message, I knew it wasn’t going to be good.
Dustin: “Good to see you last night.”
Umm…what? Why was this still happening?
At this point, I had the shakes. Call it the Hangover Blues. Or, was it the Blackout Blues? I don’t know. It was messy, though. However, I wasn’t as regretful as I usually am when this kind of thing happens. And I should know – I’m no stranger to those kinds of morning-after texts. I think it was because last night I was really gone. As in, completely unaware of anything that happened, to the point where it almost felt like nothing happened at all.
Unlike with Jeremy, I didn’t try to downplay things as much with Dustin.
Kurt: “Omg I was so out of it lol.”
Dustin: “I know!”
Kurt: “I don’t remember anything. Like…what in the fuck?”
Dustin: “Do you remember seeing me?”
Kurt: “Not until you just reminded me.”
Christ. That was the extent of my exchange with Dustin. Who knows who else might have been at that Club 120 place? I’d never even heard of it before today. Whatever. Fuck it. I didn’t kill anyone. Ugh. I should have kept a closer watch on my drinking, though. I always say I’m going to, and then shit like this continues to happen. Damn it. I felt nauseous when Dustin texted me. I wish I remembered more. Or, anything. I hate that feeling.
A blacked-out adventure like last night’s causes me to wonder how I present myself when I’m that fucked up. If I don’t remember anything about my night, how is it that someone thought I was okay enough to get in a car with them? And go to a rave? How did I even get into the club? How was I functioning? None of it makes any sense. I want to see how that all happens, but I know that such a video would be the most horrific footage in existence.
While at Casa Z, I decided to post another “New York City” Instagram video as a part of my incredibly childish master plan of making Logan jealous. I posted a clip and tagged it at the Shake Shack near Logan’s apartment and the Natural History Museum – the one we used to go to together. Fuck him.
I popped a Panic Pill and drove up to The Store for an after-hours visual merchandising shift. It was relatively bearable. I worked 3 p.m. to 11 p.m., and I was out the door at exactly 11:00:00 p.m. No more of this staying longer shit. I’m done when the schedule says I’m done. I’m also nearing the end of my days at The Store, but that’s another story for another journal. The new dickhead Assistant Manager, Randy, ordered Domino’s for the crew, which was really nice of him. Not that my cottage cheese ass needs four slices of pepperoni pizza, but it was still very much appreciated. Such a gesture made Dickhead a little more tolerable.
After work, I drove straight to the Witch Cave from the mall in the craziest snow/ice storm April had ever seen. I saw so many accidents along the way, including a really bad one on the highway exit near Casa Z. That prompted me to call the house to make sure Dad and Phillip were okay. Naturally, neither of them answered. I figured I was just over reacting, as usual. Phillip texted me later and said that they were both safe at home. Mom is in Montreal right now for Cousin Ashley’s bridal shower.
Once I got back to the Witch Cave, I stayed up ridiculously late, editing more MOMENTS event photos so that I would have them ready for a Facebook post first thing tomorrow (Monday) morning.
And that’s all she wrote. Such a crazy day. Bryan called while I was editing the photos and we talked for a while about random stuff. I enjoyed it. I’m fucking exhausted right now, but it is what it is.
Oh, one more thing. I keep forgetting to mention this. I’m still getting my unemployment checks. For whatever reason, the powers at be aren’t cross-referencing the work I’m doing at The Store, and my bi-weekly payments continue to come through. Maybe because The Store shifts are so minimal? I don’t know. I’m not going to question it. Anyway, I looked at my account tonight and saw that I was approved for another check! Thank God. Mama needs that money. Mama also needs a job, so let’s hope that tomorrow brings some much-needed productivity, positivity, and progress.
Goodnight xo
@yalittlenasty Instagram post from this afternoon.
This was the third post in my “New York City” series. I also just love Goldie Hawn. This is a scene from Death Becomes Her – one of my all-time favorite movies.
@yalittlenasty Instagram post from late tonight.
This is an iconic scene from HBO’s The Comeback (Season One). Lisa Kudrow is so perfect as Valerie Cherish. Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” is also a fantastic song. Very inspiring.
"I Will Survive" - Gloria Gaynor