Tag Archives: who’s afraid of virginia woolf?

queers, five years & saturday’s mistake: the conclusion

posted by:  audra

i was so starving & pissed at this point, & had consumed enough wine that i snapped.  mid-shot, i interrupted his photo-taking & hissed, “excuse me, are you going to be doing that all night?” i did!  i totally hissed!  he then of course apologized profusely & noted that he was taking blurry shots for the website & that i would definitely not be in any other shots.  whatever!  you’re still annoying the fuck out of me!  but he did move, & i didn’t see him for the rest of the night.  good work, audra.  good work.

entrees finally arrive & my thighs start sweating:   i ordered the grilled leg of lamb with green herb yogurt, chick pea fritters & a salad of orange & fennel…sam got the grilled sirloin with shallot butter, roof greens & fries.  we weren’t very impressed about the fries part…couldn’t they come up with something a bit more swank?  at least serve them in a cute little cup like this place does?  whatever!  everything was fairly good; except that sam’s meat was a little overdone.  actually, a lot overdone.   and if sam thinks it’s overdone, it’s way overdone.  my lamb was a little on the cool side, too.  it seems to me that they were leaving entrees out to rest too long before serving them.  again with the under-staffing issue!  anyway, the wine we chose to have with dinner was perfect…and oopsies, i have no idea what it was!  i wasn’t all that impressed with the wine-list either.  this being a wine place, you’d think i would be…but 6 years working in the wine industry, i’m hard to please when it comes to wine lists.  maybe it was just the by-the-glass list i wasn’t impressed with.  hmm.  whatevs.  i’m probably just being a bitch.

we did dessert & paid our check quickly…as oddly enough a really weird guy that we sort of know was seated less than a foot away from me, with his date.  she was really pretty & i have no idea what the fuck she was doing with him.  clearly she’s an idiot!  he spent the whole time texting while she sat & stared at her drink.  we don’t know this guy well, only through a friend of ours, and have only been around him twice.  but he’s a real loser & thinks he’s some big fucking treat.   i’ve witnessed him giving pcp to a friend when said friend thought it was just a regular joint.  anyway!   i can’t stand him.  he’s bad news.  luckily, we hadn’t seen him in a few years so he didn’t recognize us before we split.  so! close!

walking back to the car, i stumbled a few times.  i did.  what the fuck!?  i had four glasses of wine total, over the course of maybe 3 hours.  that’s nothing to me!  that’s just warming up!  whatever… i shrugged it off & got into the passenger seat.

not 3 blocks down the street & i have to ask sam to pull over.  i know i’m not going to be sick or anything gross like that, but i just could not be in the car.  super dizzy, you guys!  seriously!  do i need to remind you i only had 4 glasses of wine?!  so he drops me off in this parking lot, & i literally stumble over to the curb.  i can’t believe i didn’t fall down or scuff my shoes or something!  i was totally fucked up!  whoopsies!

i sat for a couple minutes, looking at my shoes, hoping i wouldn’t be sick on them, wondering why in the world i was so drunk & finally teetered my way back to the car.  it was so horrible!  i don’t think i’ve staggered so much, even in my drunkest drunkenness ever!  once i did make it back into the car, i was totally fine.  my drunkenness seemed to disperse as quickly as it had come on.  weird, right?!  i blame it on the one glass i had at le bar de skeeze earlier!  what else could it have possibly been?!   i just don’t know…but something fucked me up beyond recognition, as i went to bed at 11:00 that night.  eleven o’clock!  not my usual 4am antics, no!  eleven o’clock.  believe it.

i can say that there is something good that came out of my going to bed totally yet accidentally wasted at 11 on a saturday night:  i got up before noon sunday morning.  this never, ever happens & i’m kinda proud of myself!  this allowed us to watch all three of our netflix films in one day!  before dark!  this week’s was a fag themed one:  three of hearts, divine trash & the boys in the band.

three of hearts was kinda…meh.  i was real excited for it; documentary – one gay couple married to a woman, so they have this hot threesome thing going on, even though none of the three are really all that hot.  anyway, the woman gets pregnant at the beginning of the doc & they pretty much ruin it with that.  it’s mostly baby stuff from there on out, so i lost interest.

divine trash.  john waters documentary.   enough said!  get it!  i’m hoping to do some geneology maybe sometime real soon &  find out that john is my uncle.  wouldn’t that be rad?!

the boys in the band is fucking uh-mazing!  i’m super-embarrassed that we hadn’t seen it yet!  it’s super-intense & done in what feels like real time…like you’re there hanging out with them without any missing blocks of time, you know?  it’s like queer as folk & who’s afraid of virginia woolf? had a baby & it’s brilliant.  love, love, love.   in fact, as soon as it was over, i had to pop in virginia woolf because boys had put me in such a tizzy for it.  get the boys in the band right this very second, it will totally change your life!

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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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