i said goddamn.

so.

last night i invited myself along with breton and meghan to chelsea's. i didn't particularly want to go out, but i'd be damned if i stayed in this apartment for another fucking minute.

first we went to clint's house and the girls rapidly drank a bottle of wine. jesse was there, he'd been shooting tequila since 6pm. he was drunk. he and clint and jay came out to chelsea's with us, and we met becca there. meghan jokingly suggested that we play cards, and asked if anyone had a deck in her purse. i did, in fact, have a deck of cards in my purse. randomly. so we played presidents & assholes. i don't understand why drinking games have so many confusing and arbitrary rules. you can't possibly figure out the rules when you're drunk. after we gave up on p&a, we played go fish. none of us could remember how to play: meghan made five pairs on her first turn, then triumphantly threw her hands up in the air and said "i'm out!" we pointed out that the object of the game was to make the most pairs, not get rid of all your cards first. then it was becca's turn, and becca had to go fish, so she went fishing. she didn't get a pair, so she kept on fishing. blatant cheating. disgraceful. we ended up throwing the cards at each other and shouting "i win!" a lot. it was most exciting.

although i think the highlight of my evening was when jesse, from his drunken sprawl on clint's living room floor, started waxing poetic about the righteousness of drinking wine straight from the bottle. which is how we were drinking it. i noted that while it was right and good to pass the bottle, it was also kinda sexy having a wine glass in your hand. and he said "yeah, it's all fun and games until someone accidentally pours wine on his penis." and i couldn't stop laughing. that was probably november of our sophomore year. i'd never seen anyone look so sheepish.

i talked to haritha for a long time yesterday. hari is one of those friends you can trust to tell you shit straight-up, and not just what you want to hear. and she instructed me to take it one hour at a time.

so.

today i woke up and read a magazine.
i ate a meal.
i watched some of Pulp Fiction.
i walked down to burbank and picked up my car from the shop.
i ate another meal.
i took forty-five minutes of ballet. my legs were shaking.
i sang in the car.
i took a shower.
i met becca at highland and we talked and went to izzo's and talked and went to perk's and talked. i left feeling grounded in reality rather than mired in self-pity. few friends have that ability; it's something i greatly appreciate.

i stopped by subway to see if adam was going to bingo at chelsea's, and he was. so i met up with him and jessica and laura and aaron and aaron's brother whose name i didn't quite catch. meghan and nicole were there, and ryan, and andrea. i told adam about the break-up and he was kind. i smell like smoke and my ears are ringing, but goddamn, i say goddamn. i got out of the apartment. and tomorrow i'm going to start moving into my new house. i can't wait to get out of this place. it's got bad energy. two major screaming fighting break-ups lived here. mine and breton's. i'm ready for a new neighborhood.

maybe tonight i won't dream.