Being alive.

This year has been the most bizarre year of my life. Really. It was my first post-college year. I now have my degree. I've made the decision to use the English half instead of the secondary education half. I spent most of this year drunk. I'm not going to lie. It's the only way I made it through, in some ways. I learned a lot about life.

This year has been sad. A sad year of self-discovery. I've puked up half of my life, rolled on the floor, cried in bars, and wrote hundreds upon hundreds of poems. I've made too many regrets sexually. I married the night. Drove around the streets alone in the dark, leaving nothing on the streets to explore.

I feel like one day I'll look back on this year, very confused. Wondering why I put myself through the things that I put myself through. Wondering why I allowed my parents to affect me the way that they did.

Since it's the end of the year, I decided to just.. ramble. Ramble about what I remember about this year. Because maybe one day I'll understand it all. It doesn't make sense to me now.

I remember being lost in January. I remember crying on the floor with a burn mark on my hand, puking down my best friends arm and staring up at the ceiling. That's when it all began. I remember being one of the boys. Driving all four of them around in my car with a bad hangover and eyeliner running down my cheeks. I remember my 23rd birthday, going to the strip club and a stripper removing my shirt in the back room, telling me to take up stripping. I remember considering it. I remember sitting out back with my friends around the hookah, dancing topless in the rain in the back yard. I remember nighttime walks through the forest and coming home at 4 in the morning when I had to be at work at 6. I remember going to the frog pond by myself to cry. I remember telling my sister that I drink enough to black out 4 or 5 nights a week and her screaming at my through the phone, begging me to stop. I remember sitting outside the closed coffee house because it felt like the only home I had. I had nothing anymore but dead memories that could never be relived. I remember laying on the basement floor with my best friend, so drunk that I couldn't move. That happened a lot, being so drunk on the floor that I couldn't move. Once I had to call off of work because I was so drunk that I couldn't get my pants on in the morning. I remember my mother telling me things that hurt me so bad that my roommates would find me drunk by myself in the afternoon, crying in my dark bedroom. I remember being in the shower with my roommate outside the door screaming that I was a useless cunt that will never make it anywhere in life. I stood under the steaming water with a crazy smile on my face, about to pass out. I remember not talking to my mom for weeks, making her cry. I remember my friend buying me a bag filled with chocolate to make me feel better and to try to convince me to stop drinking. I remember being on unemployment and using all of my unemployment money on alcohol. I remember being kicked out of the house and finding my own place. I remember hibernating for days upon days in my apartment, not doing anything but working on my writing. I remember painting. I remember show upon show in the city, dancing and drinking my heart out until I couldn't stand straight. I remember my friend losing his mind.. becoming someone who he isn't. Someone who needs help but won't get it. Someone who will.. probably face tragedy again, because I guess his brother being murdered wasn't tragic enough. I remember looking at my mother that day that my parents came to my apartment for a whole 10 minutes and thinking to myself...

She will never be the same. That head injury.. it ruined her. And that hurts me so incredibly much. She will never be the person that I need her to be. It's all over.

I remember being very confused. Not understanding my place in the world. Not understanding anything really.

But the weird part is.. through all of this. I feel happy. And I feel like.. I've been happy through most of this year. It sounds crazy, with all of the crying and moping and hiding and drinking.. that I was actually happy through all of it.

But I was. And I am.

I feel like.. I'm where I'm supposed to be. I'm learning. It's rough. Every day is hard. I'm alone. I hardly have family anymore. Most of my friends have abandoned me. It's just me, myself, and my writing in my dark little apartment. And I'm okay with that. I'm learning. It's a sad year of self-discovery, but at least I'm making my way through it with a smile on my face. And I'm alive. Shouldn't that be enough?

come monday morning

To be alive is one thing. To be alive and happy at the same time, now that's something completely different. That's something that.. comes and goes.

I'm alive, yes. Happy, most of the time. It's days like today where I feel like I'm looking over a cliff, about ready to jump but luckily there's always a person or two down there screaming "Oh no, you better fucking not!"

Today someone asked me if I wanted anything from the bagel shop. I asked her to pick me up a knife so I could slit my wrists.

Where do I begin?

I don't even know. Does it even really matter? Does anything really even matter?

I was very excited for today. I was going to go out tonight with Andrew, Alex, Nick, and Keely in my hometown and then go visit my family. For once, for FUCKING ONCE I wasn't dreading what was in store for me at my parent's house. The last time I was there, things went rather well.

To make a long story short, I was all ready to go. I had my presents ready, my bags packed (I was going to sleep on my friend's couch), I was all dressed up and I even put on makeup (hardly do that anymore).

And then I called my mother on the way out. Told her I had a rough day and I needed her. She said that she didn't feel like spending time with me today. And then my father called. He yelled at me. About what, I don't even fucking remember because we both just went off the deep end and the reason of the fight kind of just fell off into the abyss with us.

Next thing you know I'm laying in my bed in my dark bedroom in my clothes with eyeliner running down my cheeks and no intention of leaving my fucking bedroom for the entirety of the Christmas weekend. Or, the rest of eternity rather.

Please, someone shoot me in the head.

I don't get it. I'm all that my parents have. Me not being there isn't only hurting me, but it's also hurting them. This madness has got to fucking stop. When will it fucking end?

Tomorrow I will probably go to my hometown. I'll go to my grandmother's house for her sake. And I'll leave unhappy like 99.9% of the times that I travel up there.

I kind of just want to die. For real. I have every fucking intention of drinking until I puke up my entire life tonight. And maybe I'll luck out and never wake up tomorrow morning.

You know, my parents are the only reason I have to live. Really. Yes, as I said I am very happy. But when things like this happen with my parents, I am reminded that I have nothing keeping me here. The only reason for me to go on from day to day is because my parents would be lost without me.

If I were to die, my parents would die. They have nothing.

I just want to jump off of a cliff. Ugh. Maybe the alcohol will cheer me up.

I'm sure everything will be fine and dandy come Monday morning. I'll visit my parents tomorrow, I'll leave unhappy, I'll mope Sunday, and Monday morning I'll eat a lot of chocolate and start over again. Again.

Therapy

I don't like to write about my sex life because there are only two reasons why someone exposes their sex life, and it's usually the first reason. The first reason is because they are bragging. The second reason is because they need friend therapy.

I need friend therapy.

I know a stunningly beautiful girl. Absolutely stunning. All of my guy friends take one look at her and say "Wow, she's hot." All of my girl friends tell me she's beautiful. And she is.

She has a boyfriend that she's been with for a solid four years. They live together. They want to get married. He's an amazing guy.

Last night I took her and another girl out for drinks because it was their birthdays. I stayed mature and took it easy with the drinking because I had to drive one of them home, and because I needed to make sure everything was all good in the hood with them.

The one that I went home with was the beautiful girl I mentioned above. Next thing I know, we are completely drunk on her floor and her boyfriend leaves for the weekend.

I had sex with her on their bed.

I woke up at 5 am (she was still sleeping) so disgusted with myself. I was so hungover and still slightly drunk. I remember thinking to myself "I feel so sick. I can't move. I need to stay here until the morning."

But then I got sad and thought to myself, "No, I need to leave right now. I'm a horrible person and I don't deserve to be here." So I left.

Nearly puked on the way home, had to stop for food and water. Called Keith for therapy at 5 in the morning. Determined that if my calculations are wrong and there actually is a hell, I completely reserved a spot for myself there last night.

I've done things sexually that I regret. Quite a few things. But this was just awful. Ugh, I feel like a home wrecker. Never again.

A good girl

Oh my god. I was a total hot mess last night. For real. Like, it was bad. I'm literally sitting here twitching while I'm having flashbacks of last night.

I'm pretty sure I left all of my dignity in the gayborhood last night.

Last night started off pretty mellow. I went to go see my friend's band open for Owen at North Star. It's an okay bar. Nothing like the awesome hipster bars in Fishtown. I started off my night with an Arrogant Bastard and the next thing you know, I'm stumbling back to Keely's car and we are heading to the gayborhood.

Yes, Keely and I convinced Keith to go to a lesbian bar with us.

As soon as we got into the bar, a cute little gay couple started grinding on the dance floor right next to Keith. I was so amused. He was uncomfortable at first but then after about 15 minutes he settled in fine. I kind of figured it would take him a little bit to get comfortable, because watching men waltz around in sequins and eyeliner can be quite intimidating to a straight man.

Most gay men aren't like that, I know. I figured I should make a disclaimer to avoid stereotyping. But yeah, the few that are like that definitely intimidated Keith.

Anyway, after a jello shot and some whiskey on the rocks, he was on the dance floor sandwiched between three lesbians grinding up against him. I almost died. Too funny.

But yeah, I'm so embarrassed by my actions last night. I don't even want to get into it. But I guess we're all allowed to have those days now and then. For the most part, I've been a good girl the last 10 or 15 times we went out.

Nachos and Sex Charts

Yucky. As much as I like thanksgiving, I do not like meat so much. I mean, I eat it on occasion (like once a month at a Chinese food restaurant or in the form of a BBQ chicken pizza) but it just.. disturbs me so. So meanwhile, while everyone stuffed themselves to death with turkey on Thanksgiving, I just stuffed myself to death with vegetables and dessert. And nommed on a tiny piece of turkey to please my grandmother.

My thanksgiving was great. I stuck to my word. I went to visit my parents. I wanted to be a good daughter, so I did. And you know what, it wasn't too bad. My mom thinks I'm dating some girl and she asked me when I'm bringing her over to meet them..

My jaw literally dropped. Like.. fo' real?! I was so confused and happy at the same time.

Speaking of the girl that my mom thinks I'm dating (Keely), I went to her family's house for a little bit on Thanksgiving night, which was fun. They gave me wine and more dessert. After that we went to a bar and shared beer and nachos while making a sex chart.

Then we hung out with my best friend Nick. We had so much fun.

Our night consisted of a trip to an abandoned building, driving a golf cart through the forest and a flooded field in the night, getting tipsy, and those two (not me) getting high and getting caught by his parents. It was amusing, I felt like I was in high school or something.

I cuddled with Keely and it was nice. And, again, got caught by his parents. Most awkward thing on the planet. Me awkwardly removing my arm from around her neck lol! I mean, they're used to the whole gay thing because their son is openly gay. BUT STILL. They never saw me with a girl so it was strange.

By the end of the night I received a bunch of kisses at my car from Keely and that made me content. It made me content because this is exactly what I want. For things to be back to the way they were. Not in a relationship but not just friends. Friends with benefits, I guess. I'm too flighty and uninterested to be committing to anyone and so is she. The whole friends with benefits thing is perfect for us.

Presentations at Work

Today I sat at the laundromat with piles of ripped up and wrinkly papers filled with tons of poetry surrounding me and decided which ones to send to my mother and which ones I still need to work on. Everyone who walked in looked at me like I was a crazy lady.

Anyway.

Last night I was stupid and went to a sleepover at a coworkers' house. Two bicurious girls, a lesbian, and alcohol. Ha! Yeah. Um, I was frightened. I didn't want to do anything I would regret. I was good until about 3am. I mean, our conversations were pretty risky prior to that but it definitely got kicked up quite a few notches after 3. At one point one of the girls told me that she saw me checking out a supervisor's ass at work through an entire presentation.

I admitted it.

Next thing you know, I'm taking shots, I'm seeing boobs, they're putting on a show for me (bending over and whatnot), I'm on the floor showing them how to have lesbian sex, and one of them is trying to convince me to kiss the other and trying to get it on tape so she can "masturbate to it later." It was just.. ridiculous. I don't even know what time we went to bed. But I know that I'm so glad that I didn't have my phone because while I was in the spare room trying to sleep.. one of them texted me to ask if I was still awake. I asked why she asked me that the next day.. and she gave me a pretty suggestive smile.

But yeah, totally left my underwear at the house. That'll be ridiculous on Monday, "NICOLE! Here are your underwear. You left them on my floor."

*shakes head* These girls are killing me.

That's all, really.

More often than not, my life has been fairly complicated even though it looks rather simple on the surface. I mean, it IS simple. I go to work. I write poetry when no one's looking. I come home. I make dinner. I chill with friends. I drink beer. I sleep. Repeat.

But it's complicated. I both hate and love my parents. I don't know what the fuck I want out of life sometimes.. other than to go to bed and never wake up. The one girl that I want is the one girl that I also don't want because it would be so perfect and I'd have to give up my independence.

I just want to crawl into a hole and die some days. Like today. But don't get me wrong.

I love my life. I love my apartment. I love my friends. I love my .. fucked up family. I love music, ice cream, big fluffy pillows and cuddling with soft pretty ladies.

I just .. I don't even know. Where the fuck was I going with this? I don't even know any more. I just want to eat ice cream and watch a sappy romance that will make me bawl my eyes out. And then have really good sex. That's all.

Bumps on my head

I have quite a few favorite bars in Philly that I've been going to for quite awhile. The best part about my new apartment is that it is significantly closer to all of these bars. The furthest bar on this list of favorite bars is still less than 15 miles away from me, which is awesome.

One of them is 8 miles away, and it also happens to be about 5 minutes walking distance from Keely's apartment. Do you know how bad that is?! I'm pretty much doomed. This girl will always be in my life and it's not that I mind, because I love her to pieces, but she is pretty much a danger magnet. When Keely and I are together, we do bad things. When Keely and Keith and I are together, we do significantly worse things.

But I can't break away. Because I really do love them both. All three of us have a connection like you wouldn't believe. We had quite possibly the longest bear hug together ever at the end of last night. It was pretty gay.

Where do I begin?

Holy shit. I must have blacked out because honestly I stared at that "Where do I begin?" sentence for a good 5 minutes now and still don't know. Here goes nothing...

I remember unclogging an overflowing toilet with Keely, which was amusing. I remember walking down to an Irish pub and ... honestly I don't remember the walk. I just remember that we got there at some point. I was already drunk before we left her apartment. I remember dancing with strangers and all of the people that we came with. I remember having heart-to-heart conversations with a lot of different men that Keely brought along. I remember while dancing with Keith, him yelling "I hooked up with Keely!" and me yelling "me too!" I remember the walk home and trying to crash some party but some pretentious hipster kid with prescription thick-rimmed glasses was guarding the door. I remember sharing a vegan cheesesteak with Keely and some other andro girl. I remember Keith stealing a light bulb from somewhere and Keely breaking it on the sidewalk. I remember Keith climbing up a wall into an apartment complex, which was the easy part. Getting down was not easy. I remember sitting in Keely's living room with Keith, Keith's brother, and some professor while Keely and some gross andro girl were having really loud sex in the room behind us. I remember playing some board game based off of racist stereotypes. And I remember on the way home, thinking how much Keith and Keely give me that BFF warm fuzzy feeling.

And I remember not being able to fall asleep until 5am.

Wow. For drinking so much, I'm quite impressed with my ability to muster up that timeline. Anyway, next weekend will be the first weekend I haven't spent in Philly since I've moved here. I'm going to a sleepover at some girl's house. There will be lots of vodka and food. I'm concerned. And I just discovered that I have a bump on my head and it hurts.

The Good Daughter

I think about death a lot. I really do. And I always tell people I'm not afraid of death. I mean, I'm not. I could die tomorrow and be content with knowing that today. What exactly do I have to live for anyway?

Nothing.

But on the same token, I am absolutely horrified of death. I am afraid, behind words, of losing the people that I care deeply about. With most of my friends, I'd get by. But for some of my friends, like Kevin.. not so much. I'm afraid of Kevin dying. I've always had this horrible gut feeling in my heart that he will die young. I had the same feeling for his brother and his brother was killed young. If Kevin were to die, I'd be heartbroken. I'm also afraid of my grandmother dying... she will never know the extent to which I love her and appreciate her.

And most importantly, I am incredibly scared to death of losing my parents.

It, as with anyone, can happen at any time. But my mother had a horrible head injury and I see changes in her every time I see her. And my dad... I fear he'll have a heart attack with his high blood pressure and everything.

There's a very specific reason as to why I'm afraid of them dying.

I am not a good daughter.

I struggle with this often... finding a balance between showing them my disapproval and being a good daughter. I tell my coworkers how much I hate my mother. I've made it a habit to erase my dad's messages without listening to them because he just screams at me in all of them. I don't visit them because they hate who I am and I hate who they are.

But through all of this hatred... there is unconditional love. They may hate who I am and vice versa... but when it comes down to it, no one in this world loves me as much as my parents love me. They may bitch and whine and complain and yell and ignore me... but when it comes down to it, they have my back when I need it and they make incredibly large sacrifices for me to this day.

I'm thoroughly convinced, sometimes, that I'm really all they have in life anymore.

That hurts me. So much. It's like someone's rubbing salt in a deep wound. My heart feels like it's falling when I think of it.

I'm in the process of tweaking some things. Changing around how I handle things so that if something were to happen to my parents, I wouldn't have regrets. Right now, I'd have regrets.

So, if I luck out and die first (because there's no reason for me to be here anyway) then GREAT. But, in the event that my parents are taken away from me, I need to live a life right now that won't have regrets later.

I don't need to like my parents. I don't need to accept them and vice versa... But I need to be a good daughter. Because they don't like me but they are good parents. THEY wouldn't have regrets.

I need to call my parents even though it's painful. I need to visit them now and then even though it depresses me. I need to buy them gifts on holidays so that they know that they're in my heart. I need to tell them I love and appreciate them even though they make me want to jump off of a cliff most of the time.

I need to live my life the way that I want to live it, without any exceptions. I'm not living my life to make my parents happy. But I still need to be a good daughter. They do so much to be good parents.

lazypost. toolazyevenforspacesinthetitle.

I'm just way too exhausted to put this in detail. Firstly, I got my own apartment. I love it. I can't afford chairs. I have one and me and my friends take turns sitting in it.

Secondly, today my dad came to visit and IT WAS SO FUNNY...

Dad: "Oh look, do you think you have enough liquor on top of your fridge Nicole?"

Then he opened up the fridge. "Oh, look, filled with beer."

Then he opened up the freezer. "Oh and look, even more liquor."

I swear on my life I'm not an alcoholic. My friends just buy me tons of alcohol! Out of my entire collection, I only bought maybe one or two.

Thirdly, I went to the most amazing Halloween party ever last night in West Philly. I made tons of new friends. Drank a lot of beer. Ended up at some random other house where there was an even bigger party with a DJ and lots of dancing lesbians.

I stumbled into my apartment covered in beer and ketchup. IT WAS GREAT. My ears are still ringing. I'M TIRED AND COLD. I'll fix this post later maybe.