Jazz and Liquor: Roxie's Downfall

I may or may not have been watching Chicago recently. Bloody love that film. Also I am ferociously back on the coffee. I tried so hard, I really did but I just cannot give up that which is so very dear to me and crucial for my brain to work and my eyes to open fully. However, I have done marvellously with the alcohol ban. Or, 'limitation'. I have the teeniest glass of wine in front of me from a bottle that I started almost a week ago.

And speaking of alcohol, we may now commence our forage into Certain Times Drinking Alcohol Has Dicked Up Errything.

I do not like to blame myself for anything. Even if something is blatantly my fault, I will do my very best to blame it on some inanimate object. In this case: a bottle of wine. And vodka. And a little bit of tequila.

So after my slightly surreal night with LB, I went home fully planning to remain tres cool and nonchalant. I would not text him or message him on the Facebooks oh no, I would remain cool and dignified and have him be the one to get in touch with me.

But how do people do that?!!

It's bloody impossible! How the flying dick are you supposed to keep away from your phone and not check it every 2 minutes and gradually get angrier and more worried as time goes on and there is no new message (apart from that one from your mother that you CANNOT DEAL WITH RIGHT NOW BECAUSE THERE ARE ITEMS OF MUCH MORE IMPORT GOING ON IN LIFE THAN TRYING TO REMEMBER HOW OLD MY COUSINS ARE). I am not a patient person. In fact I would describe myself as rather impatient.

So of course, I texted him first.

And of course I was ever so slightly very tipsy when I did so.

And of course I texted him relentlessly. Every night. With wine.

And what I don't realise when I have consumed a certain amount of alcohol is how much of a dick I am when I have consumed a certain amount of alcohol. They were the worst texts. They were needy yet angry and just plain childish.

And why did I do this? Why, even though I would refuse to come out from under the covers and show the world my face just in case I bumped into him on my way to uni or work, would I then sit down with wine that very night and start the whole bloody thing again?

Well I worked out - after I sent a particularly awful, embarrassing text that made me delete the entire thread and his number from my phone - that it wasn't because I like liked him. It was because he interested me. There was something about him that caught my eye because I wasn't expecting it. I wanted to get to know him more. I wanted to see if we could get along for longer than 2 hours in the morning. If he really did have my sense of humour, if he really was as genuine as I thought, if he really did have the personality I had seen in him.

Because when you think about it, he was just a hook up in a club. He was just a hook up that had extended into nearly a month rather than just that night. And the men I have gone home with after meeting in a club (only two, quit your judgey pants) were not ones that I would have been particularly enamoured with or intrigued into finding more about them. They were just hook ups. I was lonely. C'est la vie.

So can you understand this frustration of mine? Because, thanks to alcohol, I have come across as a ridiculous, needy, annoying girl who sounds more like she like likes him than just wanting to get to know him. And you might think, come on that's not that bad. Surely you can fix it when you're sober?

That's what I thought when I got a text from him last night - after having silence for 4 days.

He asked me how my tests went. The medical ones I had done last week, that is. Now remember I had deleted his number but still knew it was him as there was one last conversation still in the thread. My flatmate and I thought it would be hilarious to reply with 'who is this?' to show him how little he really meant to me. After exchanging a couple more messages, he eventually realised that I had deleted his number which was awkward. I then relented and told him I was drunk when I did that and would allow him back in my phone if he was nice to me. He then said, (and I quote verbatim from my phone) 'I don't think that's a good idea, drunk you clearly isn't happy with me'.

I replied but haven't heard back from him since. And I am so mad at myself. Because I had the chance to have a sober conversation with him that he had initiated and seemed genuinely concerned about my health. But did I do the mature thing? Of course not. Because I am an idiot. An utter idiot.


Sorry, that was quite a lot to take in, wasn't it? I got a bit frustrated hence the lack of swearing and load of details. Don't fret, I shall no doubt regain my strength and hilarity (ha) for another post. At the moment, I am just weary. Not just tired but mentally and physically weary. I feel like I'm heading for one of those weeks that you just don't want to get out of bed and face the day every morning. It's going to be a bit of an effort.

I apologise my lovelies, I do.

Is this just me? Does anyone else do this with alcohol? And also fuck things up when sober?