Tag Archives: drinking

new rezzies

posted by:  audra

oopsies!  i meant to post my newest resolutions way earlier.  like always, i’m taking the same ones from rezzies past & evaluating them first.  oooh, i can’t wait!  let’s get started…

*lose weight  i lost 10lbs over the year & gained it back.  go me.  that’s what i’m famous for, & i didn’t let myself down.  again.  but! i have been doing jillian michaels since last week & lost 3lbs.,  but then i followed it up with excessive drinking & eating copious amounts of un-named fast food…and STILL lost another half-pound! 

*drink less i have done this.  for realsies!  i can still drink any one of you fuckers under the table, but i’ve curbed my addiction slightly!  or perhaps i’ve just been drinking stronger things…so i can drink less…technically…but really i’m drinking more.  whatever.

*gossip less  yes.  did this, too!  i still gossip like the dickens, but i HAVE been doing it less! 

*buy more lusciously tall shoes  actually, sadly, i’ve been wearing flats & kitten heels more.  not because i don’t want to be teetering around precariously, but because i’ve been retardedly broke!  and walking places!  and the floors in some of my favorite bars are sloped and/or slippery & dangerous! 

*investigate hair bleaching  again, yes!  and i did it right before the year’s end!  it’s NOT impossible to strip years of black from your hair!  step-by-step instructions coming soon!

*buy a good meat cleaver  i’d actually forgotten about this one.  this year for sure.

*have dinner & drinks with the friends we always talk about going out with & never do  done!  at least most of you!  i love you–you know who you are!

*possibly try & get more sleep  since being unemployed has left me with lots of time on my hands, this one too is accomplished!  i slept till 11 today! 

*become bffs with m-k  duh!  just check out the picture above!  it’s proof!  what? 

*learn to play my guitar again  sort of!  AND i’ve accumulated a bass!  and apparently i’m going to be in a band!  with real musicians!  and i have bass lessons lined up! 

*fashion a coke-nail out of my left pinkie  i grew out all of my nails to a  perfect length long enough to snort whatever your heart desired out of, & sam was horrified when i used one of them as a screwdriver.  i cut them after i discovered typing & texting just weren’t the same.

*roast a pheasant  still no.  sigh.

*wear more hats  lame!  i’m getting rid of this one.  although, i’mma find a way to integrate my new, beautiful headdress into my wardrobe this year! 

new ones:

*investigate going eyebrow-less!  or at least grow them out & see what happens now that i don’t have black hair.  i tried it once in the privacy of my own bathroom, & it was very beth ditto…just not sure if i’d venture out like that.  what’s worse though: going out without brows, or going out with brows you draw on with a stencil?!  the mind quails.

*make bffs with a tranny  if you think this is rude & inappropriate, think again my little judgmental scabie!  who else could i put on ludicrous amounts of makeup with, go shoe shopping with, play dress-up with & then have a double-penetration threesome with without a strap-on?!  see…see??   what.  i want one.

*go totally, completely platinum  give me just a little grow-out time, a trim & another bleaching treatment & it will happen.  very soon.  get excited.

*convince my mom NOT to sign up to facebook  shudder. 

*learn all of lady gaga’s dance moves  i think this one speaks for itself.

*get a job  i think this one speaks for itself as well.  it’s SUCH a struggle though!  after a few months of looking, you just start to feel like a doomed loser.  and when no one else has a job either, it kind of makes you feel okay!  so it’s easy to slack-off!  it’s terrible.  i would only wish it upon a few people. 

that’s all, babies!  i think it’s best to keep it a little more on the modest side, don’t you?

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halloween in july & public urination

posted by:  audra

inhale deeply, babycakes!  do you smell that?  yes, that!  it’s sweat!  probably inner-thigh sweat!  and gunpowder!  or whatever the fuck they put into firecrackers!  resonating off of the stupid fucks who still think it’s awesome to be igniting fireworks well after independence day has taken place.  jesus.  i was fucking dying in the heat last week & i hate the fourth of july & i can’t wait for summer to be over already. and i can’t wait for the crumb-snatchers to get back to school.   i mean, jesus christ!  and i really am looking forward to those fall days where the sun is juuust going down at like 6:00 & you need your sweater to carve pumpkin trannies on your patio before watching sorority house massacre (1 or 2…both are excellent) for the fifth time whilst drinking pumpkin beer on the couch.  you know what i mean?  sigh…

you may be surprised to learn that the fourth of july used to be my favorite holiday.  it was.  believe it!  i was young…a tender 17 at best, and lived for it.  you know why?  because it was right in the midst of summer when it starts getting really hot.  the hotter the better, i thought.  god, what a moron i was.  now, if it gets over 70 degrees, i spazz out & develop hives (really!).  but when i was younger, even 98 wasn’t hot enough.

i would lay out in the sun forever…sometimes all day, on the roof.  and sometimes i would purposely burn myself…which wasn’t hard to do anyway, what with my fair, easy-to-burn complexion.  i thought that if i got just a slight burn, that it would make my skin more likely to tan the next time around(?!).  and then i would hit the tanning bed in the evening, just to be sure.  so gross.  it ended up just giving me tons of freckles & prematurely aging skin.  tanning is bad shit, kids!

whoa…what was that all about?!  anyway, your most beloved blog has been neglected as of late.  i’m sorry.  how is it you’ve been able to carry on?!  to satiate you, i’ll give you a few highlights from the recent past…stuff that happened & valuable nuggets of knowledge that i learned:

  • i peed in a cemetery.  i did.  in broad daylight & not even behind a tree.
  • i got drunk in said cemetery.  with my parents.  on courvoisier.  during a memorial service.  in 100 degree heat.  it was awesome.
  • sam & i drunkenly devoured cold fried chicken in my mom & dad’s driveway at midnight on saturday after frenzied, secretive chain-smoking.
  • we discovered we are indeed capable of 3-day benders.
  • surprisingly, the bender & being at my parents house are unrelated.
  • …in one instance, sam & i drank continuously for 25 hours straight.  vodka, beer, tequila and wine.  not one person out of the four of us was sick or fell down.  i’m impressed.
  • i ruined the heel on one of my betsey johnson booties during said bender.
  • i peed outside on a gravel road in the middle of nowhere.  again.  and managed to splatter my shoes.  again.
  • i bought a leopard print handbag with a gold chain at a yard sale for $3. i will probably never use it.
  • i learned that my great-great grandfather was an immigrant from sweden.
  • …and that my great-grandfather only had a 3rd grade education, but was very successful as the head of immigration & naturalization for oregon, washington & idaho.
  • it’s official:  i am allergic to sun.  i sat in the sun two weekends in a row & both times broke out in terrible, itchy welts & hives.  it was gross.  they’re gone now, but the freckles will take years to fade.  damn it.
  • i am on my fourth augusten burroughs book in about a month.  i’m in love with his writing…and i may even say that i like him more than sedaris(!).  i know…blasphemy.  but he’s so fucking amazing & hilarious & tragic.  i can’t believe we’ve owned several of his books for years & are just now cracking open the covers.
  • foreign horror films are a gabillion times better than american horror films, as you learned from watching them, of course.  we just watched a german thriller called antibodies (antikörper) that was over two hours long…and didn’t turn it off.  a lot of blood, a little sex, some pedophilia & plenty of nail-biting scenes.  lovely…just lovely.
  • i have purchased a new journal.  it’s black & looks like a bible, only without words & a cross & a mostly-naked hipster on the cover.  i read through one of my old journals the other night & realized that i’m not bad at writing…at least when i want to be.  i had written some “poetry” that actually kind of blew my mind a little bit!  either way, this new journal will no doubt soon possess some wicked awesome tales to help fill in my memoirs later.  get excited.
  • i’m pretty sure i’ve gained back at least the two pounds i had lost.  i’m afraid to weigh myself.  i’ve consumed nothing but booze, burgers, hot dogs, fried chicken & pizza the past week.  oh, and pigs in a blanket courtesy of the florida room.  how very american of me.

and there you have it!  i think that’s all.  i don’t know about you all, but i plan on milking this 68-degrees-in-july business for as long as i can.  perhaps i’ll pick up some pumpkin beer tonight, pull on a sweater, pretend it’s october & dig out sorority house massacre , just for fun…

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queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: part one

posted by:  audra

good evening, my little tartlettes!  i do hope you all had a swell weekend.  and since you’ve been biting your nails down to the quick in anticipation of what we did over our weekend, i’ll tell you — but this will have to be done in segments because gossip girl is on tonight & we all want to see what happens!

friday night was lame.  it was supposed to be part two of this, just for the lush list, & that didn’t happen.  but she hasn’t been blogging lately (shame!) so i don’t think she’ll notice anyway, right?  sigh!  no, friday night was for drinking & i can honestly say i have no recollection of what we even did for dinner that night.  it’s completely gone.  i do however, remember scanning in a whole bunch of pictures from like 9 years ago, uploading them onto facebook & then promptly deleting them out of embarrassment.  i did put that polaroid up for you, though (you’re welcome).  that night was the night of one of the best parties ever, and happened to be my marc jacobs shoe debut.  2003.  yes.  sigh…so young, so young.  and just so you know, i do have totally normal hands…even though my left one in the photograph looks like a paw.  it was just bad posing on my part.  at least i kept my legs together!  holla!

saturday was our five year wedding anniversary.  believe it.  don’t worry though — we’re not gross like that!  we did not do the traditional anniversary gift exchange like most couples do (the five-year one = wood.  smirk!), nor did we exchange stupid cards or anything lame like that.  i did not get pissed when sam came home without flowers in his hand.  no.  we’d planned on purchasing tickets to pj & john parish, which is happening very, very soon-ish & i’m asking baby jesus not to sell out of them before we get around to actually making this purchase because we’re lazy & didn’t really get around to it this weekend.

sigh!  anyway!  sam & i slept in a bit, chain-smoked on the patio & after completing an extensive menu for the evening (anthony bordain’s haricot verts & asparagus, seared filet mignon, & lobster with endive & maybe a pavlova – maybe), we decided to go out.  it was sort of warm outside & i wasn’t thrilled about searing bloody meat over high heat indoors.  i get hot.  you understand.  i also wanted to avoid frolicking off to the store as much as possible…so, we agreed upon this place, since embarrassingly enough, neither of us had ever been.  i wasn’t in the mood for stuffiness & definitely not in the mood for assholes, so this seemed perfect.

if we left the house early enough, one would think there would be no need to make reservations, right?  i mean, who eats dinner at 5:30?  but 5:30 turned into 6:30, which turned to 7:00.  i had a major makeup-meltdown in the bathroom when i was about 10 minutes away from being completely ready & almost cried.  i threw makeup brushes at the closed bathroom door.  i had wicked cramps.   blood was gushing out of my vagina & i was thoroughly convinced i was having a quintuplet miscarriage.  and i was out of advil and super-plus tampons.  fuck!  normally, this would be a complete disaster…but after my little tantrum, i pulled it together & managed to leave the house without any real drama.

we arrive at our destination, & it’s.  totally.  packed.  with a wait-list at least 7 parties deep.  jesus christ…really!  it’s after 7pm on a saturday & mama needs a drank.  my general impression of the crowd-corralling wasn’t good.  the owner checked us in & acted like a college student hostess in her first week on the job.  no one really knew what was going on & it was tough to even get a time estimate out of her for which to rest upon.  a youngish boy then checked on us & said it will be 30-40 minutes, so we settled on going someplace else for a drink whilst we wait.

i thought i had been to the worst bar ever, until this place.  i won’t name names, but just know that it’s housed in the space that was formerly the chesterfield.  perhaps it was the three skeezed-out meth heads sitting at the bar, or the really inept barmaid, but the second i stepped in the door, i wanted to leave.  typically i don’t get really creeped out by places, but this one made me feel like something terrible had happened there.  i’m guessing a tall, hairy man with a prosthetic arm ripped off his plastic limb to rape a young, stringy, blonde thing with before he bludgeoned her to death with it.   in the bathroom, probably.  again, just guessing…but i’m usually pretty good at this stuff.  anyway!  moving on…

as soon as we order our drinks, i know it’s trouble.  first i asked for a wine list, as i see the other patrons have wine in front of them.   bartender looks confused.  “uhmm…..” she picks up a menu.  scans it.  turns it over.  more reading, squinting…  “oh!  it says to check the chalkboard.” hmm.  really?  wouldn’t you know that already if you’d been employed here for…i don’t know, an hour?!  i walked to the other end of the bar where the chalk board resides — nowhere near the entrance or where you would normally order  — and i asked for a glass of pinot noir, which turned out to be opened for too long.  i should have had her open another bottle, but i didn’t have the patience for that either.  i really just should have gotten a safe beer like sam did!  sigh!  so, we settle our tab & it takes foreverrrrr

oh my god!  what happens next?!  come back tomorrow for part two, my buttery little lamb chops!  until then, kisses on your sticky bits.

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weekend update in the form of self-diagnosis

posted by:  audra

another painful monday, yet again.  i am functioning on 4 hours of sleep.  four hours! i really have no idea how i was able to get myself out of bed this morning…sam & i really tied one on yesterday/last night!  and we didn’t even go out; our sunday consisted of sleeping till 1:00, lazing about for a few hours, pounding enough water to cancel out the alcohol from the night before, & then drink commencement.  in the drunken cloud of sunday, we managed an embarrassing round of scrabble (embarrassing for me, anyway), the making of this awesome culinary invention, & watching a semi-naughty movie that kept the gusset of my non-existent knickers moist for the entire 90 minutes of the film.

more drinking ensued.  still drinking well after midnight, & in anticipation of getting up at 5:30, i started to panic.  because i know it sucks to be at work incredibly hungover, tired, nauseated…sigh.  this is not new to me.  but this going to bed at 1am, drunk, on a sunday night, is.

usually it’s more like midnight, which is entirely different.

so, sam & i like to drink.  a lot.  so what?  we have always stood firmly on the belief that we know we are not alcoholics because of these things:

*we don’t drink to escape.  we drink because drinking is fun & makes us more fun to be around.  everyone benefits!

*we have concluded that if we really wanted to, we could each stop drinking at any time & not go through withdrawals.  we wouldn’t be as fun or social, but it is possible.

*we do not wake up in the morning & start hitting the bottle of ketel one.

*we drink ketel.

*we don’t take shots or drink our vodka straight from a large plastic cup like the poor pathetic addicts on intervention do.

*only champagne causes us to fight, & only once has it resembled a scene out of who’s afraid of virginia woolf?.

*we don’t drink for the sole purpose of getting drunk.  although it happens frequently, we just enjoy drinking just for the drinking part.

but then i got to thinking…does all this make us functioning alcoholics?!  i wasn’t all that familiar with the term – other than tossing it around with a smirk every now & then – so i did some investigation work.

courtesy of google, a random “medical” website & the help of  my vodka-soaked brain, i learned that a high-functioning alcoholic is such:

An HFA (high-functioning alcoholic)  is an alcoholic who is able to maintain his or her outside life, such as a job, home, family, and friendships, all while drinking alcoholically. HFAs have the same disease as the stereotypical “skid-row” alcoholic, but it manifests or progresses differently. Many HFAs are not viewed by society as being alcoholic, because they have succeeded and over-achieved throughout their lifetimes. These achievements often lead to an increase in personal denial as well as denial from colleagues and loved ones. HFAs are less apt to feel that they need treatment for their alcoholism and often slide through the cracks of the health care system, both medically and psychologically, because they are not diagnosed.

well?  there you go!  not even a high-functioning alcoholic!  if we had this dreaded disease, clearly we would be in denial.  but here i am, putting it out there & evaluating the magnitude of our drinking.  just for funsies.  or maybe that is the denial part?!  shit.  ooh, the mind quails!  discuss.

xoxo,

martha (& george)

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