Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts

Monday, March 30, 2015

Sprang Break Part 2

Monday March 30

Spring Break is officially over, and I'm sitting in class. Already this fine morning I have been showered with compliments from my peers saying "you're so smart, you're funny" blah blah fucking blah. Today I'm looking forward to a spectacular day of classes until noon and then Target 2-11, yeah buddy! Sorry for the extra layer of sarcasm, I just got a 90 on a paper and I'm pissed. I'm also hungover. 

The second half of Spring Break was just as stellar as the first half. It was fun and ended with a bang last night. I'll delve into last night in just a little bit. I did some more PR work, kept up on my fitness, starting applying hardcore for summer internships, and just been enjoying life. I worked and worked and worked and was rewarded with quite a handsome check on Friday, on top of the check I received for my PR work. I love money. I know I used to complain about having a life structured around work, but the older I get the more I appreciate it. 

So last night, I got out of work and was invited to join a group of friends of the friend of mine who is moving away. They were having dinner last night at the Fuji Grill which is a local Hibachi and sushi place. It was a birthday/going away dinner. By time we were all seated around two tables there was like 15 of us. It was a huge group. It's such a fun time there because they basically pour liquor down your throat, and they like throw food in your mouth, and it's cool. So I started off with a beer, and next thing you know the chef was going around and around shooting double shots of sake into our mouths, over and over again until we were all feeling it. He kept saying "more sake, more happiness. More sake, more babies." He was a trip. So then came the obligatory photo shoot that has taken over our generation. After that one of the kids who was there invited all of us to come back to his house. So before that a few of us were feeling frisky so we decided to get cigars and smoke them, Morgan and I even stole a car during this at the gas station and drove off with it. It was hilarious. (We returned it.) it was our friends car and we did it as a joke. After that we went to the kids house and smoked out of a big ass hookah and drank wine. The wine was heavy. Eventually we left and I went home in my semi-drunken (drunken) state, and watched the Walking Dead finale, which I add, wasn't even that good. I mean it was alright but I don't understand why everyone is raving over it. It was a great end to break. It was like I came full circle as a junior alcoholic. You know, start drunk, end drunk. No shame. 

I actually don't mind working doubles. I like them a lot, but I should've did more schoolwork over break, because now I feel like I'll just be behind in my schoolwork. Whatever, I'll get it done. 

On a final note, my dreams as of late have been so wild, it sort of freaks me out.

And how could I forget? I tried seafood for the very first time last night, and I ate the whole thing. It was shrimp and I'm pretty sure I'm good with never eating it again. 

Monday, March 16, 2015

Yesterday

March 16, 2015
So, yesterday was one of the biggest days/holidays in Buffalo. It was the St. Patrick's Day Parade. Aka the day when all of us Buffalonians live up to our alcoholic name. Basically you start drinking as soon as you wake up in the morning and don't stop until that evening. I got fucked up. Just kidding. I was too terrified to get too drunk because I had to call into work.
And so it was. I pushed my way through a sea of green people and beer into a coffee shop and I made the call. My reasoning for not coming into work was as follows: my 17-year-old younger brother got arrested at the parade and I was on my way to rescue him because my mom was out of town with her boyfriend.  I mean that would explain the background noise right? That sounds convincing right? Whatever. They accepted my plea without any struggle. I do often tend to question the intelligence of the people around me.
I saw people I don't really converse with all too much and many I only see in passing at the bars or in Canada. People from high school. People from work. I embraced all of them. Literally. When I have enough alcohol in my system, I hug. I wish I would've got drunker. I wish I would've blacked out. I made really sexy eye contact with some select individuals and the sexual tension was evident.
Then I sat on my future roommates couch while dreams of sugar plums danced in their heads. I sat there and watched funny things until I felt sober enough to go home. I pulled one of my disappearing acts. I pulled one at the parade too. I think I often make myself dissappear to see if anyone notices. I make myself invisible to see who would come for me. Usually nobody does. It's in these times that I find new friends to spend a few minutes to hours with or to indulge me with booze/weed/cigarettes/cigars.
I think I had fun. No, I did but I don't know something was missing. I was expecting something life-changing and miraculous to happen. Well, a part of me was anyway. I'm in a constant internal struggle between wanting the mundane pleasures of life and wanting a movie plot to be my life.
Today my day consisted of my ride or die. ( Ding - ding - ding, if you guessed Morgan you are correct!) She wanted food when I got out of class (what else is new?) and I complied. I had an advisement meeting after my last class and I ended up there for an hour. Morgan hung out with my dog at my house that whole time. She was pissed and hungry, which is always a bad combination for a woman. We ended up at Panera Bread, and then Dairy Queen for free cone day. Then I had a meeting at my car dealership and I tried to sell my car but that didn't work out. Then Starbucks. It was so us, and it's been like a week and a half since we've had one of these days.
Today was as Monday as they get man.

Friday, March 13, 2015

I am alive. Really alive.

March 13, 2015
The last time you heard from me was about a month ago right? Maybe more? Anyways I suppose I should get you up to speed on what's been going on since my disappearance. In the last month and a half, I.have.changed. I don't just mean physically, but mentally. I am different than I used to be. I feel as if this may be why I haven't written in so long. A lot has happened. A lot has changed. Evidently, I am going to reveal my true identity within the contents of this post. Or at the very least I will reveal my first name out of fear of what could happen to me if I reveal everything. God I feel like Amy Elliot Dunne writing this. (Just finished reading Gone Girl, messed me up real good.)
In the last couple of months since the semester has begun, I have gotten fat again, (I think so, no one else does) was affected by a particularly nasty spell of SAD; (Literally sadness brought on by the winter - seasonal effective disorder) I have been kicking absolute ass at school, my grades are astronomical. I have become a quasi-alcoholic, depending on that drink every weekend to take the stress out of my life. I have borderline hooked up with randoms multiple times, including a guy (yes, you read that right) who was trying to get into my pants while I was blacked out, although I think he was too. If he wasn't he certainly acts like it, I've seen him the past two days on campus. I only know about the ordeal because I came to in the middle of him caressing my hand, and I promptly ran away. That story will most definitely be part of my lost files which I will write hopefully over spring break. What else has happened? Oh! I signed a lease on a house with two of my friends from school, and we all have a little bit of a bromance among the three of us. It's"adorkable." I move out and into my place April 1st. (April fools! Except not really, because it's actually happening.) I worry about myself this summer in the house alone most of the time because my roomies will be returning to their hometowns. I lived like a pilgrim for exactly 4 days when my phone met an unfortunate end. I got into a car accident and fled the scene, only to be followed and screamed at by an angry black woman. I turned down a cruise to Central America! Straight up backed out. My old friends have cut off complete contact with me, and oddly enough, I don't actually care. I have made so many new, real friends in the time since I last wrote, it's inconsequential. I have fallen in and out of love exactly three times, with two and a half people. I am out of shape. I have become the vice president of the PRSSA. I have tried transferring Target stores. (Jury's still out on that one) I am looking for other work opportunities. I now have a real-live Mohawk. (Mixed reviews on that one) I might be getting a new car today, I have been working diligently on my internship, with a bunch of incompetent fools. (I NEED a new one for the summer, preferably paid.) My eyes have stopped degrading. I came into a large sum of cash and promptly paid off most of my debts. I have begun to question myself and my motives, I've begun to see that I am special, to some degree. I am BRILLIANT. I am WITTY. I am WARM. (Another Gone Girl reference, I can't help myself, it's utterly haunting and phenomenal and stuck in my head.) I had a quiet nervous breakdown when I piled too much work onto myself. I'm fine now. I am calling into work Sunday in order to get drunk with my roommates at the St. Paddy's Day Parade. Who am I? My tastes have changed slightly, I like watching hockey and more stupid shows that the male population seem to like to watch without any plot line, or any effort put into the writing at all. I like bad Netflix movies. I like to sip a beer while watching these things. I am a man. I also finally know and understand what and who I want, and one of my lusts actually falls into the cliche of "been right in front of you the whole time." Fuck.
 I say I don't want to marry or have children but this is a lie. A cold painful lie. I want to be a good husband and father. I want the stupid dog, I want the white picket fence, I want to play catch with my kids. I want all that sappy shit. My shell has been cracked. I'm 255% more human than I have ever been and that scares the shit out of me. Drunk Zack (me) can attest to that. The me I am when I am drunk is vastly different from when I am sober. When sober I am cold, calculating, everything is my joke, the world is mine to laugh at. I think deeply before saying something. I think of every scenario and come up with back-up plans on the spot. I am a genius. When I am drunk or high,(I've been smoking lately again, weed and cigarettes.) I become weak. I can't stop words from rolling off of my tongue. I become a "hugger." I have allowed this trait to bleed into my actual life. I like being kind to people, I like human contact. I think depriving myself of it for so long has made me crave it all the more. I like both sides of me I decided, my friends agree. I'm pretty sure I know what direction my life is headed and I love that. There are some things I will not disclose on here, some things that must be kept to myself for the time being. I am a slut. In more ways then one. It is possible, you know. I will let you do what you will with that.
I have begun reading a new book every week. I am well-read. Who am I? You know, I continually bring up the theme of who I am, but the truth is I am me. I am Zack. I am finally happy. I am me. I am hungover and I am ecstatic. I am sure I've forgotten some things but these recollections will come back to me in time.
We'll talk soon.
Zack. (AKA John Doe)

Monday, January 26, 2015

Saturday Night and We in the Spot

Saturday January 24

Directly following Target tonight, I had a three hour production meeting for the company I am doing PR for: White Lion Studios. I had to go a pick up some guy on my way to the meeting because he doesn't have a car or something like that. I was skeptical because I don't like picking up strange men I don't know and riding with them to a meeting I don't know two shits about. For all I knew, I could've been walking into a swingers convention and held against my will. Not that I would be too opposed. They call me their PR intern, but I'm heading their PR efforts so I don't know we'll see. So I went to this guys house and sat outside for five minutes before texting the bossman and asking him if I should ring the doorbell to this strange house. He sent back yes. So I walked up to the house. No doorbell. Swell. I knocked and a very angry dog on the other side started barking at me. A man on the other side screamed at it and then cracked the door and said I'll be right out. His name was Marcelo and he had a strong and heavy Puerto Rican accent. He was nice, and noticeably older. It was just awkward. Then we couldn't find the meeting location. It was in a local restaurant that the company rented out for the meeting.  It was so hard to find, but we did find it eventually. Walking in the meeting was just starting and we introduced ourselves and I gave my piece on what I'm going to be doing with the company and blah blah blah. Then I found out that Marcelo was on my team in graphics and campaigning and I was kind of thankful I had the car ride to get to know him a little bit. We're meeting for coffee this week to discuss ideas. I can't discuss further what went on in the meeting because I signed a non-disclosure agreement. All I can say is that I am working on promoting a certain show that is currently in production.I like half of the company at this time. The other half are kind of out there, or too arrogant for me to handle at the moment. I zoned out way too much during the meeting, looking forward to what the night was going to bring me. 
Boy oh boy. I'm just going to get into it. Yesterday my world traveler friend told me about her birthday party tonight at a brand new night club in the Seneca Niagara Casino called Club Stir. She had a reserved table with bottle service and it was her and her friends from work. She invited me to come as well. Why would I say no to that? Why would anybody in their right mind?
I looked hot tonight. Like really hot. Like I would do me. I had on these tighter maroon-purple pants and white shirt with blue and grey polka dots and grey shoes with blue laces. My hair was gelled to perfection, contacts in, teeth shiny. I went to the casino and parked on the ramp around 11:15 p.m. I took a huge gulp of the Hypnotiq I bought yesterday and walked in. I walked like I owned the place. Blame the French liquor. I didn't even get ID'd to go onto the casino floor. I don't look that old. I met up with my friend who's party it was. (From this point on, I'm just going to use her first name: Katherine, because honestly she won't care, she's a bro.) 
And we went to the club which was actually an open floor club in the back corner of the casino floor, pretty cool. There was a woman and her band wailing out that horrid Meghan Trainor All About that Bass song. Walking to the entrance to the club we met up with half of the party group because the other hadn't shown up yet. We all made small talk and I was introduced to everybody. They were all mildly attractive. Then the second group came and joined us, and I was impressed that they were all pretty attractive as well. I'm being underwhelming. We were a HOT group, good Lord! 
We all entered the club and piled in to our round table, complete with reserved sign and all. Everyone was so welcoming to me, it was so nice. We all sat and critiqued the band for a little bit deciding we didn't like them. We started to occasionally yell jabs at them, which obviously got worse the drunker we got. The guys aside from me all started with beer, the girls with their fruity drinks, and then there was me. I ordered two shots of patron. They were disgusting. They went down so roughly and made me catch my breath. After that I ordered a beer. Two of the three other guys had already started drinking before we got there so we were at about the same level of "drunkeness." The girls were drunk quickly, of course. More beer and more liquor and we were all chatting and then BeyoncĂ© started playing throughout the club, after the band had taken a break. The girls were gone, and just the four of us guys remained at the table, talking about sports, beer, vaginas, and checking out random girls around the bar. Funnily enough we were all singing along and dancing at the table too. Alcohol makes making friends so much easier. Then the one guy asked us if we wanted anything from the bar and I knew I was drunk already but I said "fuck it, I'll go with you!" The two of us went to the bar, not wanting to wait for the drink waitress who was assigned to our table and one of the girls came up and asked what we were doing, (I don't just standing at the bar, what do you think?) and we told her and she said she wanted a shot and next thing you know, the guy was buying shots for everyone as well as beer for us guys. He was cool. The shots were a super mixture of liquor that left it as a milky substance with a cinnamon undertone. It was delicious. We did that thing where the group puts all their shots in the middle of them and screams, it was awesome.  We all stayed on the dance floor from that point on, and it was the best time. Even after the shitty band came back out we still danced and went wild. As the night came to an end I realized I was still a little drunk, even after chugging two water bottles. After saying my goodbyes to everyone, I walked back towards the parking garage. I hope I see them all again. I actually liked them all so much. (The one guy tripped the other, and he literally just landed on the floor and got back up, it was so funny.) I sat in the driver's seat for five minutes staring at nothing before climbing into my backseat taking out my contacts, (I had my contact case and glasses in my jacket) and laying down. I woke up maybe 20 minutes later to a guy screaming from outside my car that I hit him and dented his car. He was the car parked in front of me. I literally sat up and stared at him, knowing I did no such thing, and he got in his car and drove away. By this point I was alright to drive home, so that's what I did. It was almost 4 a.m. when I walked into my house. Best night in weeks, hands down.

Happy Hour

Friday January 23

I was so stupid today. So stupid. Today was a very close friend's birthday and she (where did all my guy friends go?) turned 21. This particular friend of mine is my world traveler friend and she frequents Europe sometimes twice a year. As a matter of fact, she just came back from Europe about two weeks ago. Anyway, she asked me if I wanted to go out for Mexican and although it was her birthday, I declined. It was like noon. No. She went with the wine girl from last night. (Small island) 
About two hours before I had to go to work she texted me to see what I was doing and I discovered she was laying on the couch at home. That's terrible and I told her we could hang out before I had to go to work because on my birthday I just laid around until she took me out for FroYo. I think a birthday should be over-celebrated, especially at our age. We went to the Falls because it was closer and she was going to a bar in Buffalo for a small get together later tonight. I had the bright idea of going back to the liquor supermarket and she bought her obligatory "I'm 21" bottle. I bought a little bottle of Hypnotiq. The same cashier was there and I was quick to avoid her line. After this we didn't have any idea of where to go, or what to do so another idea dawned on me. It was 5 o'clock and people always say "It's 5 o'clock somewhere." I put two and two together and blurted out "Let's go to happy hour!" "Don't you have work in an hour and a half?" She asked. "Yeah, whatever. Let's go!" was my response. So we went to this bar right by the bridge home and sat down at the bar and she ordered wine and I ordered a beer. A tall one. ---Fireball by Pitbull just came on my shuffle and although you can't see it I am jamming hard. Damn it now, Uptown Funk by Mark Ronson and Bruno Mars. Download these immediately and dance around your house/apartment/bedroom, I implore you. 
Then it was time for me to go to work. Problem was, I was tipsy. I drank that beer really fast AND it was huge. I could just tell that I had something in my system. I drove super carefully to work and walked in and giggled like a moron at everything that people were saying to me. One co-worker asked me "what's wrong with you?" And I replied "I just came back from happy hour." Giggling at the end and covering my face with one hand. She,with her bug mouth, told the other worker who was back there and they both gave me high fives. It was odd. I sobered up throughout my shift, and nobody else was none the wiser.

Fuck the Man-y

Thursday January 22

Oh my gosh, I didn't wake up until one this afternoon. That really sucks because I totally missed the morning which is when time still seems to be going slowest. I don't know, I just feel more productive in the morning. 
I decided to get dinner with the friend of mine who wanted me to buy her alcohol. Another friend of ours joined us as well, one who was also underaged. We went to this shabby little place on the Island and I hid my distaste for it pretty well. Afterwards came the awkward "can we go to the liquor store now?" question because I danced around the subject during the meal. Gracefully, I said yes and we headed to a liquor supermarket out in the Falls. 
I thought I would be buying these girls you know, something small maybe a bottle or two for school. I should've known that wouldn't be the case. I had a fifty dollar bill thrust into my hands and the girls went into this whole "thirty is for me, twenty is for her, use the whole thing." Kid you not, I laughed in their face at that point and asked "seriously?!" However, I am not one to back down from a challenge so it was on. They're young freshman in college so instead of tastefully telling me what they wanted they said in a broader sense that they wanted peach flavored vodka, as many bottles of white wine as possible, a bottle of pink wine, and cheap, small bottles of flavored vodka. THIS is a prime example of why I need more guy friends, all they want is beer. I walked into the store and walked out ten minutes later with bottles of Moscato, Riesling, peach Schnapps, peach Pinnacle, and some other bottle of liquor I can't remember right now. (Strawberry Smirnoff maybe?) That was about half of my allowance. (They told me to get all the cheapest bottles possible, resulting in a grimace from me. What I couldn't put together was how surprised they were with how much they had when they told me to go cheap.) I decided to be nice and took them to another liquor store downtown, by this point I was feeling put ballsy and "fuck the man-y." It was kind of a rush to be able to buy all of this liquor and only receive a look from the cashier who may be thinking that I may be an alcoholic. At the other liquor story, I bought them a bottle of pink Moscato, a bottle of Pinot Grigio, and another little liquor bottle. Bye, bye fifty bucks. 
Once I arrived back on the scene of the car, the girls had decided that they wanted to celebrate by going back to one of their houses and cracking open a bottle of wine. I decided to have one glass. We opened the Moscato and it was such a cool and regular atmosphere as we drank the wine and talked about an endless list of topics, that always somehow always came back to me and my half falling out with some of my friends. Eventually, the one girls boyfriend came home from his bowling league game. (I didn't know young people were into that stuff? That's cool.) Instantly, the mood of the room changed and became awkward and I tried to make conversation with him and he talked to me about how he's transferring to my school so we will see what becomes of that. Meanwhile, the girl who's boyfriend he wasn't was plastered on three glasses of wine and a shot of the Schnapps. I drove her home and she gratefully thanked me for the alcohol. I told her not to tell anybody where she got it. 

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Pre-Drunkness

Tuesday January 20

I was supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner this evening. That was until I blew her off. Here's the deal, said friend really only wants to hang out with me because of my age. She is  underage and she wanted me to buy her alcohol before she went back to school this weekend. So she doubled that by asking me to join her for dinner as well. Now, I don't care because number one: why would you ever say no to an opportunity to eat? And number two: I actually quite enjoy this friend and all of their wild stories, most of which are fabricated but they are entertaining nonetheless. So I had full intentions of going. Then Morgan called me and asked if I wanted to go out for Mexican with her and a couple of her friends. There's this local Mexican restaurant that is so delicious I can't even deal, and that was the place she Morgan wanted to go tonight. We also know at least half the staff because they are personal friends (a good portion we know from high school) and it's a great place to go because they don't charge us for everything, they give us discounts and a bunch of the staff come and sit with us and chit chat with their accents which I absolutely love. Going there over the years, the staff have become friends of ours and they all treat us like family. Unfortunately for my underaged friend, I had a taste for Mexican. I called my friend and asked if we could reschedule for Thursday when I'm off, but I am contemplating blowing her off again because although people did it for me, I don't know how I feel about buying for a an underaged person. My mom and her boyfriend spooked me because they said "It just takes one girl to tell the police where she got the bottle." Thanks guys.
The restaurant which is usually busy was dead. Only Morgan and I went because one of her friends had a work meeting or something so obviously that meant the other couldn't go right? I ordered a taco, a quesadilla, and a chimmy chonga. (I think that's how you spell it?) I ordered a mango margarita as well. Lemme tell you something about this margarita, it was huge, and they put so much tequila in it. It was strong. By the time I finished with it I felt that pre-drunk sensation. You know, that stupid giggly thing you get before you get belligerent. Then as a late birthday present they served me churros with vanilla ice cream. It was honestly so sweet and unexpected. And also free. Then came the sombreros, and next thing you know Morgan is having a photo shoot with a ton of the waiters and busboys, and I'm just laughing at the table, from my "pre-drunkness." I understand Spanish and I can speak it on the most basic level, so I cracking up when some of the busboys were talking about getting with Morgan after being prompted by our waitress who we have both known for years. She was completely oblivious. 

Monday, January 19, 2015

The High School Post

Friday January 16

Everybody wants to hang out with me all of a sudden. I woke up this morning to multiple text messages and a voicemail to go out for breakfast. So I'm currently doing the only logical thing in this type of situation, I'm sipping my coffee, reading The Andy Cohen Diaries (which kind of sort of inspired me to write this, because I feel as if I'm somewhat more relatable) and pretending to be asleep. I do feel kind of bad about it, but not bad enough to get out of my sweats.
I know what I promised yesterday, so I guess I'll start with ninth grade. But really quickly, I'm sorry I just have to talk about work tonight for a second. Oh my gosh, I couldn't remember why I don't ever put effort into how I look. Well, tonight I remembered. Never have I ever been looked at like such a piece of meat. I felt like Britney Spears was belting out If You Seek Amy all.night.long. It was bad, all I did was gel my hair, wear contacts, and earrings and my looser red v-neck. About five or six women and a couple men wanted to have super long convos and gaze into my eyes deeply. This always happens. I should just accept it because honestly I love all the staring, and the double-takes, and the blushing. I feed off of that shit for real. Anyways.....
            Ninth grade. I was 14 when it started and I was just coming off of my "darkboy emo" phase. That is to say I was constantly wearing black clothing, specifically with skulls and other depressing things all over them. I was also right around 250 pounds. I didn't have friends, only acquaintances who were also outcasts like myself. Although there was one girl who I grew closer with with each passing year, and we still remain friends to this day. I had also taken a vow of silence and only spoken when necessary. The only person who looked at me without judgement was my grandfather, who was the greatest man to ever live. Eighth grade scarred me pretty badly in that I was just really sad all the time and so lonely. There was also a specific individual who was a good friend of mine the year before and come eighth grade he decided that I was gay, and so that spread like wildfire. Back in 2008, it was still super bad to even be suspected of being gay especially on little old Grand Island. (The individual that spread the gay rumors about me was pitted against me in tackling practice when I played football my senior year and I went at him with everything I had, still bitter of course, and he broke down and said he loved me. I think he meant platonically, but you know what they say about "football bullies." I took this as an apology for everything and I haven't seen him since graduation.) Those rumors followed me into high school further hastening my growing unpopularity. I even tried the "cutting thing" once but it wasn't my thing. It kind of hurt, like a lot. So yeah, my entire ninth grade year consisted of me trying to be more normal, so that people could maybe like me for me. I started wearing less black, and I even started to speak a little bit more, just a little bit. That year was super bland. I still just had acquaintances, no friends. The big thing that year was that I discovered Facebook and I found my voice online. People started commenting on things I would post and would say I'm funny. I even waged war against my English teacher Kelly Baumgartner. Online of course. I felt really bad for orchestrating a pretty nasty discussion about the woman, especially considering it was her first and last year at the school. What I didn't feel bad about was the attention I was receiving from some of my peers for the first time outside of mocking me or a few words here or there. 
Fast-forward to sophomore year. This was the year I turned sixteen, and I'm pretty sure it's a rule that at some point during you're sixteenth year you start rebelling. The first four months were like a continuation of my freshman year, except that for the first time I had friends. I mean most of them were the outcasts from the year before, but now I went to the mall and movies with other people my age. It was such an ego booster. I was also beginning to thin and grow into my body. I went to my first school event, the seniors versus junior powderpuff game, and the school bonfire. I even went to the homecoming dance. I wore Nikes, with a dress shirt untucked, a loose tie around my neck, and a fedora. If I could I would slap the ever living shit out of myself now. I mean really? A fedora? I mean the rest was bad but damn. I remember being made fun of at the dance by the "cool kids" of my grade and upper class men and ultimately going out for punch more than enjoying myself on the dance floor. This was also a big year for me because I had my first girlfriend, or at least I thought we were together. I will refer to her by her initials CM. We were both quite rotund so we were like two peas in a pod. I mean we did everything couples did, we even slow danced to freaking Fireflies by Owl City. (Talk about a throwback, huh?) In my young, naĂŻve mind this equated girlfriend. We never kissed though. Or maybe we did, actually I think we did. She took me to my first club and I remember being enraptured by the chaos. I loved all the bodies, the heat, the beat of the music, and the pure sex in the room. I still have this love today. If I recall correctly, in the spring of that year we stopped talking when I cut her out of my life for talking to another guy. (I'm rolling my eyes at myself.) I also got my first job that year. Three days after my sixteenth birthday I went to the coffee shop on the Island, Tim Hortons and applied for a job, I had an interview and was hired on the spot. (The woman who hired me, Jaimie, may or may not have had a drug problem and was stealing from the company, so not much credibility there.) Soon after I was hired a group of seniors and juniors from my school all got hired and they took me under their wing. I became like a little brother to them, and I loved them all. They were the first really cool friends I had ever had. I'm still friends with half of them to this day and it's always a riot when we get together. I even had a flirtation with one of the girls, Stacy, but I never acted on it because I was afraid that she would say no. It was totally lame. That summer with my new older friends changed my life forever. They instilled in me a love for alcohol that I never lost. One girl who we worked with was older than us, in her early twenties, and that summer she had parties at her house pretty often. Suddenly, little 16-year-old me was partying with the college crowd. I smoked weed for the first time, and I drank the summer away. My tolerance grew quickly and I was so grateful for that because a running joke around work was that I got drunk off of one screwdriver my first time. I totally admit to that. But they always took care of me. Always. These parties were wild. This other girl we worked with was from Jersey so accent and everything, she threatened to slit these guys throats once and we all thought it was so cool because this was right when Jersey Shore was the biggest thing in the country. People passed out cold sitting up, people had sex by the pool or disappeared to do unthinkable acts to one another. I got my first couple dozen lap dances. One night, my friend Steven dropped me off two houses away from mine so I just sat on their lawn until I felt like getting up and walking home. I felt different. Included. I also started hanging out with guys who were in their mid to late 20s. Another co-worker of mine was in his early twenties as well, and all of his friends were older than him so I would go with them to a local bar weekly and it was cool to have older guy friends who had my back. I wish I would've stayed close to them.
Junior Year. My transformation into a douchebag was in the works. This was the year I had my first inner slow motion walk down the hall. What I mean by that is that even now when I look really good, I kind of picture myself walking in slow motion with a really cool song and everybody stopping to stare at me. This actually happened to me on the first day of my junior year. I woke up that morning and I realized I had pretty much lost a lot of my friends because I ditched them for my older, cooler friends. The problem was that most of these friends either went away for college or were too busy for me. They still hung out with me when they could, but mostly I ran to them with all of my problems and questions, as my high school gurus. I had also discovered American Eagle and style. I was dressing a lot more like I do now, you know, regular. At least regular for me. I was also skinnier than I had ever been before that. So on the first day of eleventh grade I was walking to one of my classes upstairs with a smile and looking forward. Something I had never done as I had usually frowned and looked at the ground. My hair was cut, I wore new glasses that fit my face and I didn't look like myself, puberty was good to me that summer. Other students went as far as to tell me how different I looked or how great I looked. They even smiled or waved at me. On the outside, I was cool but on the inside I was on Cloud 9. 2 weeks later, after 6 long years my braces were removed. Another slow motion walk ensued. There was this kid in my first period English class, let's call him Billy Fields. You see, his initials are BF and we are not friends anymore. It got nasty, I'll save that for the next year. Anyway, he sat behind me in English class and we got to talking, and soon we were best friends. It was really quick actually. We realized that we knew some of the same people and next thing you knew, we were a group. Our little group was like any other group of teenage friends of both sexes, everybody was in love with everybody else. I mean none of us ever got together but that's besides the point. The point is I had friends and my list was growing. As I cut ties with my old acquaintances, the outcasts, I felt awful because they showed me kindness when others wouldn't and I was turning my back on them. I never became friends with any of them again. One of my friends from work was the captain of the rugby team, and come spring he was advocating for players. The "gay rumors" were starting to stir again, I think it was from the scorned outcasts. So I thought, you know what, I have never played a sport, why not play the roughest, manliest sport? I joined the rugby team. Boy, I got in shape quicker than a speeding magnet train. I lost weight like crazy, I could suddenly lift weights and run for extensive periods of time, and I had a ton of new guy friends. I bonded especially with three other guys including Billy Fields, as we grew closer than ever. I got contacts for the sport and I pierced my cartilage on my left ear. (I had pierced my left ear the year before, to some slight ridicule from my peers.)  After training for the last half of winter and the beginning of the spring, it was time to play the first game in our 4 game season. Coach put me in the game in the second half because I have to be honest with you, I don't understand rugby! I just don't get it, the rules, the concept, how to play, nothing. So I went in with the idea that I would just tackle the opponent and that would be that. I mean there were other things I had to do but I can't even explain to you what those are because I have no idea how to even explain it. I left my contacts at home, and so when I gave the water boy my glasses and cartilage ring, I swallowed hard and ran out onto the field blindly. When there was only a couple minutes left of the game, we were tied and I knew then I wanted to be the hero, I wanted everyone to see me even though I could literally not see at that moment. I decided my game plan would be to go after the largest blur and take it down, I saw myself as strongest on the team, physically and at the time I might have been. Ref blew the whistle, my blood was pumping, everything got tuned out and I ran at the biggest kid I could make out, as he went down, his knee went up and slammed into my collarbone. I didn't let go, and we both came crashing down. I don't remember what happened after that, but I think we lost. I just remember feeling off balance. There was something wrong, I thought it was just a bruise. Funny thing was I prank called my mom that night on the drive home and we told her I was in the hospital with a broken arm. Pretty damn close. At practice a few days later, I was trying to do a push up and fell face-first into the mud. I couldn't push myself up and it was freaking me out. The next day I skipped school and got X-Rays done. My collarbone was broken, and I hadn't even noticed it because I thought it was just bruised. I was in a sling and out of the season until the last game where I played again for the second half. During my time as a cripple, I bonded with a boy who broke his hand in the second game, we became extremely close and, let's call him Maynard Housing (initials), Billy Fields and I were an inseparable trifecta. Maynard is the kid who rides horses in the Caribbean, by the way. I also met Morgan that year. She sat in front of me on the bus and one day while I sat with my Fall Out Boy playing she looked at me, made a motion to take out my earphones, and asked me why I don't ever speak. We haven't stopped talking since then.That is one thing I will always be grateful for, because I know we're both in it for the long haul. Literally forever. Fast-forward. It was prom season and I was not going to miss my first prom now that I was a cool jock. I asked a girl publicly in photography class, and she said no because she thought I was joking. (She's a lesbian now, so I guess it's okay.) The second girl I asked was this girl from Mexico that I had a crush on and been friendly with since fifth grade and she said yes. Then she said no. Apparently she had already told some guy from her church, whom I hated (the reason for that hatred was tacky: in third grade he took one of my books and put it through a paper shredder and I was done with him) that she would take him. He didn't even go to our school anymore. I ended up going with a freshman who I'm still very close with and whom I will be seeing next week. Actually she was one of the friends I went to the hookah bar with a little bit ago. I asked her through a note I wrote and gave to New Zealand to give to her. We had a blast. I HATED her dress, and she found out about this disdain two years later, and I apologized profusely. We even messed with who I thought was my ex-girlfriend CM and her new boyfriend. We danced and danced and it was the first time I had ever grinded or dirty danced with a girl. I also danced with most of the junior class, including another one of my six year crushes. At some point a group of friends and I went around and defaced our exes lawns with silly string, eggs, and forks. I had also stolen my car that I wasn't allowed to drive that night. (I did that a lot actually, I lied to everyone about having my license from the time I was 16-and-a-half, until the spring of my junior year when I finally got my license with my broken collarbone. I was only supposed to drive it to work.)  Billy Fields was there of course and there was one other guy we bonded with that night and he and his twin soon joined Billy, Maynard and I. That summer the 5 of us became inseparable. The twins and I have been extremely close up until the past few months, and I don't know I guess we're just drifting apart. I can't say that I'm that upset though. Day in and day out the five of us were together, playing video games, basketball, swimming, seeing movies, you name the lame things teenage boys did, I'm pretty sure we did them. We were like a cult. That was a problem, but even more so of a problem was the fact that they were all straight-edge. They never drank and they didn't smoke. Ever. Comparing that summer to the previous ones, I felt as if I regressed. I was happy, for what I thought were true friends, but I needed to let the caged beast out. That was where my older friends came in. When I could get away from the five-some, I was with them. That summer I also joined the football team. Never had I ever played football, but there I was. I wanted to prove to everybody that I could do it in my last year of school. The gay rumors ceased forever. I mean, you know aside from one or two assholes. 
Senior year changes everyone. It's the year where you decide what you're gonna do for the rest of your life and with who. This was the year I changed. This was the year I hated myself. This was the year I fell in love. This was the year I ran supreme, and this was the year everything changed forever. The five of us began our last year of high school with such an over abundance of confidence this was our year. That's what we thought, boy were we wrong. Football had me lean and on amazing terms with the football guys. Who would've thought that the chunky little emoboy would be a skinny and sexy football player? The divide among the five began. I think Billy Fields may have initially been jealous of my influx of popularity especially after he was the only player cut from the soccer team. Maynard Housing was trying to find his place in the school and the twins were busy with soccer. Billy started to lose it. He was so consumed with making senior year perfect and getting his perfect girl that we were constantly clashing. For the rest of this recollection, I want you as the reader to remember that I have grown up a lot since then and this is not who I am anymore. I could never go through with some of the shit I pulled back then. By October, I had, had it with Billy. I caught him in lie after lie and his personality started to grow more vindictive, evidently so did mine. By this point I had convinced pretty much all of our ever growing friend group to dump the kid. I convinced them all that they didn't want him ruining their senior year and that he was a snake. I was faced with the opposition of one kid in particular who told me not to ruin someone else's senior year. The dumping was put on hold. Meanwhile, my popularity was growing to such levels that the entire school knew who I was and it warped my thinking. It made me think I was better than everyone to finally be on top and I began to refer to myself as "The Prince." I had become a social media mogul as well through Twitter throughout Grand Island High School. Everyone began calling me The Prince, it caught on extremely quickly. I slowly became involved with a ton of school activities as well, and knew the hot gossip on everybody I crossed paths with. One of my favorite things back then was to find something out, tell somebody who I wasn't supposed to tell and watch the fireworks go off. I had become a warped version of Cady Heron. November led to the excommunication of Billy. We all harassed him over social media, and mocked him. I encouraged all of it. It was like people just wanted to do whatever I said so that I would be friends with them. Everyone except for the outcasts who stood firm in their opposition to my rule. I had transformed into the very people who made my life a living hell a mere three years earlier. Very quickly we had a replacement for Billy. We'll call him Double A. The guys had started hanging out with him while I was away at Disney World for a week. This was when I took the reign to another level and became friends with a group of sophomores who were friends with my junior prom date. I later became friends with a huge chunk of that grade and spent most of my summer with them. I also became extremely close to one of the people who used to make fun of me at the beginning of high school and I still consider him one of my best friends today. (In his defense, he made fun of everyone) Eventually spending so much time with the sophomores, I began to fall in love with one in particular. Double A had already said that he wanted her, so I backed away. The thing was, she didn't want Double A, she wanted one of the twins. They had a weird flirty thing before New Zealand revealed that she also liked that same twin. He had been in love with her since 7th grade and they're actually still together. I guess I was next in line. We'll come back to that. By winter, there was a schism. Billy Fields, and his group of friends following the excommunication, brought Maynard over to their side. He still tried to be friends with all of us. (His definition of that is talking shit about the other with the other and hoping he doesn't get caught. From that point, despite our reconciliation towards the end of the summer and going into college I have never trusted Maynard Housing. He is a snake.) This took me by such surprise that I was scorned because Maynard had become my right hand and I never thought that he would do this kind of thing, I thought he was trustworthy.The two sides grew further apart and their side had a new alpha. He was of Indian descent and we'll call him Raj. Their group had these hot, slutty, blonde twins in it that every guy in the school drooled over, and most girls in the school hated. Then the Winter Ball school dance drew a pretty clear line in the sand. For weeks I had told people I wasn't going to the dance, when all along I had a ticket for me and for my date. I got a girl I worked with to go with me, a girl who graduated the year before. She was a good friend of mine. I thought that the best way to be the center of attention and have all eyes on me would be to walk in fifteen minutes late with her on my arm, and that's what I did. Halfway through the dance though, my date caught me staring at the sophomore I had growing feelings for. She said "go to her, it's obvious you're heart is with her." I asked her how she would get home and she said her sister. That was all I needed, I scooped my crush into my arms and swung her around, and we danced until there was no more music. After the dance, the twins and I, our dates, (mine was now the sophomore) and a seventh wheel all went to the Applebee's Billy Fields told them to go to after the dance to meet up with their side to try to preserve the friendship. He told them the wrong one, and we set off to the right one. Before we got there both twins asked their dates to be their girlfriends and I was silent. Walking into the right Applebee's, my girl laced her fingers with mine and I was beaming. I still didn't ask her. The two groups were outrageously awkward and any chemistry any of us had was gone. They continued their night and didn't invite us, furthering the wedge. In late January, Billy Fields approached me, and it was the first time we had really spoken in months. He asked if I still wanted to be his partner in the business competition we had made it to States in as a pair. We had signed up for the partner event and won our last round despite our growing separation. I remember answering him very shortly, confirming that I was still in. It meant going to Rochester for 3 days during the school week. And I got to wear a suit. Priorities. While in Rochester Billy and I became friends again, and I started to reclaim a little bit of my old self. Being away from that school helped immensely. Two of my sophomore friends also went to this competition and we explored the city together. The one who went was the one I was falling for. Being away felt like being in a dream with her and I knew I had fallen head over heels in love with her. It was all consuming, she was everything to me. So much so that I asked her to prom as we explored the city. Once again, I couldn't seal the deal. Even though there was an obvious sexual tension and attraction between us, I couldn't ask her to be with me. I felt like she would say no, even though I knew she wouldn't. A month later I had my wisdom teeth removed, and I was prescribed painkillers. I wish I never was. Three days after the surgery high on the meds, I went to work and realized I was in no shape to work and I told my boss I had to go home, and she tried to force me to stay and I had some choice words with her and then put her on the phone with my mother who told her I was going home. I never went back, not to work anyway. I had a ton leftover painkillers after I healed, and instead of disposing of them or keeping them for when I would get hurt, I took one every morning before school and would take another when I felt the first wear off. I stole my mom's painkillers out of her nightstand and took her when I ran out. I also sold hers to a friend I worked with. (He's now in the Army and doing big things.) I cut communication with the girl I was in love with because I heard that she was getting back with her ex-boyfriend. And really, I had no right to behave the way I did because we weren't together. Following this heartbreak, I turned to more drugs and alcohol. I would seek out parties or any excuse to take pills, smoke weed, or get drunk. I looked for it. It was also rugby season and I didn't go back to the team because a ton of my ex-friends were on the team. I know the twins especially were super worried about me, because at that point of time they still had never touched anything like that. I was an addict. Then one day I looked in the mirror and I dint like what I saw. I had burned so many bridges. I had made my mother cry due to my actions more than once, I had gotten into a brutal fist fight with my brother when emotions ran high and we both said some things we didn't mean. He also heard me talking smack about him with my friends. I will forever feel bad for how I treated my brother and we're still not as close as we used to be. We're just getting close again now. I mistreated my grandfather, and my heart shatters into a thousand pieces when I think about it because he passed away the next year and I had so much less time with him then I would've if I had been myself. I had hurt some people at school. The only good thing to come from a lot of this was that I was slowly finding myself again and becoming friends with new people who liked the me I was working on becoming. I stopped doing drugs. I still drank, but only in moderation. My grades also had to be fixed. I was extremely close to repeating twelfth grade. By spring, I was almost fully myself again, the me I should've been all along. There was still that divide though between my friends and them. By prom, we were okay. Speaking of prom, when I stopped talking to my love, I had to find another date, (she ended up going with Double A and hated every minute of it) but my date found me. Morgan. One day in study hall, she turned to me and asked and I said yes. No cheesy "promposals." It was so us. The night before prom I went to downtown Buffalo and went bar hopping with some of my old Tim Hortons friends. You see, Girls Gone Wild was in town. I drank half a bottle of UV Vodka that night. Morgan was pissed. I was half a zombie the next day. We went through the ringer with our prom group. Simply put, they sucked. They consisted primarily of the "church kids," and refused to let me play explicit music, on the limo, I did anyway. By the time we were sitting at our prom table for dinner we were all really tired after pictures and so this mutual friend of ours broke out caffeine pills and around the table the pills went. We each took like two a piece. My heart was beating so fast. Both of us had also put in our names for Prom King and Prom Queen, not actually thinking we would get it. A few hours before prom Morgan told me that we had won, and that our class advisor had told her. The couple who everyone thought was gonna win were literally Ken and Barbie. It was one of those slutty twins, and her boyfriend who had sex with the other twin whilst his girlfriend twin was drunk on the couch in the same room. Gross. I will never ever forget the moment, they made the announcement and Ken and Barbie, started to walk forward and then Morgan's name rang out throughout the dance floor, followed by mine and then for me everything went silent. I don't even remember what song they played, I just remember dancing with her and being so happy and her being so happy and us just smiling like idiots while everybody watched us dance. My mom cried when I got home. Graduation day was a sunny, perfect day. I hated it. I don't know why but I was angry all day. I was a complete dick that day. I think I was sad and upset that it was all really over and I don't know, I was just seething. When it was over I ran to my car and didn't look back. I wish I would've spent more time with my grandfather and mom that day, they were both so proud. I hate myself for not giving them quality time that day. Right after that, I went with my cousin to Toronto for the night while she went to some Gay Pride thing. I explored the city in solitude wishing that some of the friends I just walked away from were there with me. That summer is a blur of grad parties, alcohol, making out with lesbians, Canadian adventures with the reunited fivesome, (We only lasted until September when I sent Billy a long paragraph about everything I hate about him.) not being able to go to my dream school because I couldn't afford it, (I later realized how bad that school would've been for me and how good Buff State has been to me) and one night where I smoked 3 grams of weed with snakeboy Maynard. I haven't touched weed since then, not really anyway, not my thing.
So that is the story of how a loner grew up and became one of the most pompous, arrogant assholes, how he lost himself and found himself again, and of how he started making strides to the man he is today. A LOT of stuff happened after high school and maybe one day I'll write about that too but right now this is where I came from and this is what I left. So now you know everything. I'm sure I might've forgotten an event or two and if so and I remember it, I will add it to a later entry. But this is a pretty thorough retelling of half of my teenage years. If you read all of that you rock and I love you immensely.  

Friday, September 19, 2014

LAST NIGHT - FIRST POST.

Okay so, my friend Peter contacted me earlier in the week and asked if I wanted to go to Union Bash with him and another couple friends and get drunk. Union Bash is an event that Buff State hosts during Homecoming and Family Weekend and so I was like okay sure! So last night rolls around and I was in class all day and earlier in one of my classes I had a friend of mine who lives on campus text me and she was like “let’s go to Union Bash.” So I filled her in on everything and we talked of how it would be “lame.” I had class until seven last night and the event started at eight. Peter texted me and asked what the plan was and I told him I was headed to my friend, Alicia’s dorm. So he headed there as well. Apparently he was coming alone as the other two friends didn't want to go. After he got lost and found his way to her building we all just hung out in her room with her three roommates and “shot the shit.” This is where the drinking began. 
As the alcohol is setting in we three finally simply decided to head to Union Bash, fashionably late. We got to the Union around 9:00 and stayed until about 9:15. We had said it was “lame-sauce,” which it totally was. In theory it was cool, with an inflatable obstacle course, mechanical “chicken wing,” (because of where we go to school of course) psychics, caricatures, and food. We stood in line for a photo booth and as people cut in line in front of us, Alicia finally broke down and said, let’s go to Bottoms Up which is a nightclub in the downtown Buffalo nightlife district. Alicia had a fake I.D. and Peter, who would be 21 in a month, and I, who would be 21 in 3 months, did not. Then she informed us that she and her roommates went every week and that Thursday nights are 18+. With this new goal in mind we set off towards Alicia’s dorm again. 
We got ready for the club in her room with the one roommate who decided to accompany us. Or rather, the girls got ready. Peter had on moccasins and I had on sweatpants. Total club wear yeah? Anyway taking a gamble and hoping they would let us in, despite looking like crap, we called a taxi. The taxi came almost an hour and a half late, finally arriving at 12:30 a.m. Katie, the roommate from Long Island, was fuming. Her accent was coming out thick and she kept on saying “no tip, no tip!” Anyways, in waiting for the taxi the alcohol kept on pouring itself into our cups and shot glasses. 
We finally arrived at the club and see directly behind us three guys that Peter, Alicia, and I went to high school with. It was then that Peter saw some guy smoking on the street asked me for a dollar and gave the guy the dollar to buy us two cigarettes. I am not a smoker, I promise; but if I’m drunk, that’s another story.  I think it was a little bit of a shock to see me smoking to my old colleagues because I did a very good job of hiding my “extracurricular habits” back-in-the-day. I portrayed myself as a goody two shoes. Now, don’t get me wrong, I am and was a good kid, but I just had a separate partying motive. I've grown up since then and last night was totally the first time since the semester began that I had even taken a sip of alcohol. That’s all beside the point. 
After waiting in the longest line ever, we pushed and shoved our way up to the bouncers who charged us an extra five dollar cover charge for whatever reason, and made it into the overcrowded club. Music blaring, good DJ, people’s good energy everywhere, I was in my element. Initially however, we decided to stay together as a group and pushed our way to the back together, where the bathrooms were. There was also the outside bar, which Peter and I gravitated towards. After doing generic club things, (dancing, looking important, flirting, laughing, etc.) Alicia finds me and says to me, “I’m going to Dan’s with his roommates.” Dan is Alicia’s boyfriend. Here’s the thing though: I LEFT MY PHONE AND MY CAR KEYS IN HER LOCKED ROOM. So as she hopping the fence and jumping into the cab this simple fact was hitting me and I screamed after her to no avail. Remembering that her roommate was still in the club, we just thought she would be able to let us in their building and give me my stuff. We couldn't find Katie and then decided to hang around the club for a few more minutes before heading out. 
Then on this very cold fall night in which I’m in a semi long sleeve tee shirt, and Peter is in a legitimate tee shirt, we have the bright idea to walk back to campus to save money on a taxi. The thing is, there is a very dangerous part of the city of Buffalo that we would have to walk through to get back. Luckily we knew where we were going after walking for close to fifteen minutes. Then about an hour later after stopping for 2 a.m. pizza, Peter and I walked past a bar and who do we see waving to us drunkenly? Katie the missing roommate. Bars close at 4 in Buffalo and so we just decided to wait for her back in her building. 
After finally making it back to school, we couldn't get into the dorm building as it is locked to all non-residents. So after knocking for five minutes and the desk attendant not responding, (she was asleep) this girl gets dropped off by her friends. This girl lives here, but of course she doesn't have her phone or her keys on her, why would she? That was the running theme last night apparently. After about two minutes, a girl in an over-sized tie-dye hoodie walked past the door and the girl with us started jumping up and down and screamed “that’s my roommate!” Following that, the tie-dye girl let us in, and so Peter and I took the elevator up to the fifth floor where Alicia lives. 
At this point it had to be 3:30 a.m. Instead of knocking on the door and facing the wrath of the two roommates still left in the room, we decided to sit outside and wait for either Katie or Alicia. In our state of mind we never thought that both girls would end up sleeping over their boyfriends houses. Minutes turned into hours and we ended up falling asleep in the common room on the couches. Finally Peter said: “Let’s go home. Come on we’ll figure out how to get your stuff tomorrow.” So Peter drove me home as I fell in and out of consciences. When I finally made it home, he said to me “Let’s do this again next week.” To this I started laughing and said “yeah, sure.” 
I woke up this morning with my contacts stuck to my eyes and they felt like burning holes of fire in my skull; and I typed the first half of this on my mother’s laptop because of course mine was still at Alicia’s dorm. At the end of the day, which ironically is now, I loved every minute of last night. It was quite the experience, and I’m happy to have been able to share it with you. I’m all about those crazy random moments that collect together to become this adventure we call life. I would like to share these adventures with people or even just post them here for myself. Stay Tuned!