Booze before Buddies

Sometimes I look back and think of the times I was such a shitty friend. But I am not a bad person. A lot of people will describe me as caring and heartfelt. I go out of my way to help those less fortunate and have done volunteer work. I get emotionally upset at tragic world events. I cried a lot when I heard news of the 2004 Asian tsunami and 2010 Haitian earthquake even though I did not know anyone affected.

But when I drink, getting drunk becomes a priority.

I do sometimes act very protective of my good friends when drunk. I have threatened bodily harm to men that try to take advantage of my drunk married friends. But if my friend ignores my help, I will take it personally and stop talking to them or some other pity punishment.

I can become super bitch when boozed up.

Mistake# 37- My friend from Mistake 36, that I blogged about yesterday, was in town for another night. At first she said her boyfriend was going to rent a car and drive three and a half hours to pick her up. Then he claimed there were no car rentals available. Either he was lying or a complete idiot. I was able to find several car available online. I said I was okay with buying her a bus ticket back home. The problem was there were only 3 buses a day and they all left before 7am. I think the times were 4:30am, 5:30am and 6:30am. We were invited to a party on Saturday night so I told her I would take her to the bus on Monday morning.

She said she wanted to leave Sunday morning. She said she was missing her boyfriend. His kids would be visiting and she wanted to spend time with them. I wonder if my drinking on Friday night helped her form this decision.

I told her she would have to get a taxi to the bus station. I was planning to get drunk and would not be available to drive. She tried to talk me out of the party. “Why are we going to this party? You only know a few people.”

“Yes but I will meet more people and make more friends. Besides, it is a themed costume party and I love dressing up!”

The theme was Mardi Gras. I had a gold dress with purple stockings, purple sheer scarf, and purple wig plus big purple, green and gold Mardi Gras beads. (I did not earn these. I have no idea what happened to the huge pile I earned in New Orleans.) I kept offering my friend to borrow something to fit in with the theme. I had a huge chest of costume pieces. She refused. She said it wasn’t “her thing.”

Since she kept pestering to leave on Sunday, we came up with a plan. Since I did not want to drive after hitting a wall the night before, I was going to drive to my friend’s house and get a ride from there. We would put her bags in my car and she would get a taxi from his house. This friend’s house was actually my “friend with benefits.” I knew I would most likely stay the night there with him. We parked my car and she left her bags in my backseat.

The party was good. Lots of great costumes and a King Baby cake. My friend spent the whole time sitting on a couch on her phone. She was texting her boyfriend. She did not mingle. I am not sure if she was uncomfortable with all the drinking or because of her medication. Or maybe she was just shy and I never noticed. I ignored her and enjoyed meeting people. The hostess and I were having a conversation about costumes and wigs. I mentioned my wig was itchy and she offered to let me borrow a head cap. We went into her bedroom to search for it. When we came out of the bedroom, my friend was standing at the bedroom door. She looked like a lost puppy. “I didn’t know where you went.”

I don’t know why but this irritated me. I felt she was being a buzz kill. It was a small apartment and she got worried when I was out of the room for a few seconds. I tried to encourage her to talk to others but she went back to her couch. I thought “fuck it. I am gonna have fun.” I was also irritated that she was insisting on leaving the next morning at my expense.

I did not want her to ruin my night. I started doing jello shots. There were other kinds of shots too. There was a lot of liquor. At some point, everyone started yelling “show your tits” and all the girls started flashing. I think there was some drinking games involved.

I woke up at my FWB’s bed. Hangover, of course. His bedroom was too bright and I always bitched at him to get blackout curtains. He complained my blackout curtains always made him oversleep at my place. I checked my phone and there was a text message from my friend “thanks for the weekend. I hope you find your keys.”

I asked him where was my stuff. I followed the path of my clothes out to his living room. There I found my purse with my wallet but no keys. We texted the host of the party to find out I left my keys there.  The bad part about leaving my keys at the party: I could not get my friend’s bags out of my car. And she still insisted on leaving that morning. My FWB said we stopped at an ATM so I could get money on the way to his place and then called her a cab. I checked my bank account. I took out $100. I had $80 in my wallet the night before. I had nothing in my wallet the next morning. I gave her $180 when a taxi might cost $20 and the bus should be about $60.

I never sent the bags and she and I have not talked since. 12 years of friendship gone. It might have been crappy for her to take advantage of me financially like that but if alcohol was not such a focus of my life, the weekend might have turned out different.

Fat Tuesday

My friends in New Orleans are celebrating Mardi Gras. I am celebrating another day of sobriety.

I used to love making lists of party destinations. I wanted to experience the greatest festivals around the world. Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Carnival in Rio de Janeiro. St Patrick’s in Dublin. Full Moon parties in Thailand. Oktoberfest in Munich. I have been to some and made drunk mistakes while living it up. I now wonder if I could still attend the ones I missed and enjoy them sober.

Mistake #35- I was on a cross-country trip with a friend and we planned to stay in New Orleans for two nights. We stayed with a family she knew in Metairie, a suburb of the city. We were in luck that this was the beginning of the Mardi Gras season. The first night I went to bed early because I was tired from driving. The next night we were going to the French Quarter to celebrate!

Before we went out, I was had lunch alone and was checking Facebook on my phone. It was Valentine’s Day. I noticed that the guy I recently stopped seeing changed his FB status to “in a relationship.” We only broke up the previous week. And in the two months we dated, we never had that status. I texted him asking if that was why he wanted to stop seeing me. He replied “sort of.” I asked if he was seeing her while dating me and he said “kind of.” I was furious.

I went back to the house we were staying to get my friend and get ready for the night. I needed to get trashed. We were going to hit Bourbon Street and I was gonna forget about him. We dressed up fancy and I put on a Venetian mask that I bought that day. It was beautiful and about $25. We began to hit the bars at happy hour. I think we had dinner in there somewhere. We watched mini parades of people playing music. We went to bars that had balconies to get good views of the people.

I began “earning” beads. My fancy black dress was easy to flip down for quick flashing. I drank a lot of shots and would toast to the ex-boyfriend “FUCK HIM” with each one. He was from Los Angeles so I started to bash all Californian men. “SCREW THEM ALL!” My friend said I was pretty funny but she was worried about me cause I kept falling. And I was getting serious about earning my beads.

I woke up the next day in a hotel bed. My dress was laying on the floor next to the bed. My pile of beads (at least 30) was laying on top of my dress. I found one of my earrings on the nightstand. My Venetian mask was missing. No one was in my room. I sort of remember kissing a guy from a local university in one of the bars. I put on my dress and searched for the missing earring. It was a pretty, yellow amber one I bought in Germany. As I was searching, a guy walked in. I looked at him and tried to piece together if I knew him and what was his name. He must have noticed my confusion cause he laughed and said “A. went out to lunch. He will be back soon.” Oh yes… that was college boy’s name. I thanked him. He said something about my huge collection of beads. I gathered them up into my arms. I wrote my number and email on hotel stationery and said “if you guys find my earring, please send it to me.” I had no plans to really stay in touch with this guy. I just wanted my earring. He took the paper and said sure.

I got a taxi back to Metairie. The family was pushing their baby in a stroller on the way to see a parade. The mom laughed and said “oh the days of the walk of shame!” She actually was the same age as me. My friend filled me in more on the night. Yes, I was kissing the college guy in the bar. She wanted to leave and I refused. So she left me there. I told her about the missing earring and she said “you will never see it again nor hear from him. He used you and that is that.”

I felt ashamed but I defended myself with “I used him! I got over one guy from LA but getting under a different guy in a different L.A.”

Sometimes humor is my best defense.