*in my chrisette michele voice*
and then it comes to me...like an epiphany...
I present to you:
I know some of ya’ll be wondering. It aint no secret. Everyone is privy to the drunken status updates from 2 am and on most weekends. It’s nothing nice, but I wanna share my story.
Cause it’s cleansing and whatnot. :/
This morning after a night of Grey Goose and partying I re-evaluated my life—for the third time in 2 weeks. Much like I always do after I’ve had too much to drank. It usually goes something like this:
-Me laying in bed with face buried in the pillow, feeling the after effects of whatever liquor swirling around in my belly, threatening to attack me with chronic diarrhea
- lots of heavy breathing in hopes to calm my stomach and my nerves
Now here comes my thoughts:
-I’m not drinking anymore. This is it. I need to start partying with a mafuckin O'douls in my hand.
-I’m gonna stop. For real this time. It fucks with my anxiety.
-I’m gonna stop going to the club. Only when I’m on vacations I’ll go.I promise! Oh, and on special occasions.
And then after 2 Advil and a cold shower, I’ve forgotten everything me and myself talked about. And probably hours later, I promise you, my partner in crime K. is texting me telling me that there’s a bbq, club, event, whatever going on that night, and
"we’re going!" and my text reply is almost always “Aowwwww!” depending on the amount of school work I've finished.
Cause I’m a mess. And I love this party and bullshit lifestyle that I lead on weekends. Just being honest.
The adrenaline rush I get from putting on make-up, doing my hair, putting on dresses , high heels, and cutesy costume jewelry is borderline scary. Even now as I’m writing this thinking about it all, my mouth is watering and Beyonce’ yelling “All da singuh lay-dies!” is sounding off in my head. (It’s always either that or “Diva”)
I digress—
so …I always go out with intentions of having no drinks.
The battle between Me and Myself goes something like this:
-I ain’t drinking nothing tonight. Nothing!
By the time we get half way to Manhattan:
-Ok, no more than two drinks, that’s it. Cause you really can’t afford it.
-Stop lying to yourself. Financial Aid got you covered. Why you think they gave you all that money anyway? It's a conspiracy! They know school is stressful and you gonna need a lil something; vacations, liquor, therapy,etc. And it’s cheaper and more fun than a spa day. They won’t play Gucci Mane and Vybz Kartel at the spa, and don’t front. You love that shit
When my fiend ass gets inside the club, it’s a whole ‘nother story. First I scope out the scene, and usually the following thoughts occur:
-Yooo, what the fuck is going on up in here! Is she really wearing her church shoes w/ her club dress? These bitches shoe game is tired.
-What the fuck is he wearing? Dancing hard as a muthafucka.
-Ooh. He’s on the down-low. Definitely a bottom. Definitely.
-My gaydar is the shit!
-Where is that bitch’s girdle??
-I wish I could get away with kicking him and not starting no shit. He dancing mad hard and there’s like, no space.
-What. The. Fuck?
-I can’t... I can’t take this shit sober.
-Go on, have 2 shots of Patron. You deserve it, mama.
*please excuse language and grammar… my thoughts are laced w/a tinge of hoodbooga. Sorry.
Before I know it, 2 becomes a maximum of 5. And don’t let K. be on her bottle poppin’ shit, because 1 G&C (Grey Goose and Cranberry juice) may turn into 8 or so. And then after that, I get to facebookin’ and or texting in between shaking a tail feather, eyeballing the room, and sipping the drinks.
And then you get random shit like the following coming up on my page:
“uh oh”
“fugged”
“#191- big bitches, put on your girdle”
“hoaifhri[oahg iroagrjioaghrioea vgioaej grio WHY??” ( <- - that’s when you know I’m really knackered) …and things of that nature Do I have a problem? Nah, I don’t think so. Nor will I sit up here and justify why I don’t think I have a problem. It’s just that I associate certain things with each other. For example:
Alcohol::Clubhouse


Barbecue::Cigarettes

Drunkenness:: Mc Donald’s


Public Pool:: Urination


White liquids:: Semen
I COULD NOT BRING MYSELF TO PUT UP SUCH NASTINESS!
Jermaine Jackson:: Ampro Gel

Tiny:: Cooler from Pound Puppies


You get my drift?
Hell, that’s just me. Hate it or love it.
*Gives self an imaginary hug*
Do I plan to change? As soon as I see any wrinkles or facial lines (if Olay Regenerist or Botox doesn't help) :D
And besides....MY BIRTHDAY IS NEXT SATURDAY!!! Woohooo! 25 for the third time around!
To all my new followers, THANK YOU! Ya'll make my heart smile. I have to subscribe to you guys, read and play catch up and leave comments.
Be blessed kiddies!
xoxomOnie!
































