"What are you doing for your birthday Carl?"
"Well it should be obvious, I'm turning 26."
"26...whats the big deal about that"
"Well its the fifth anniversary of me turning 21..."
"(bursts into laughter)"
"So I'm going to try and drink 21 drinks"
Worst call ever. Not that I can't take down 21 if I pace myself. I'm pretty sure I knocked 21 out on the road trip during the day where we started at like 2 and kept it rocking til, well, 2. But on my birthday I started at seven, because my birthday was the last day any teacher could get in the building before school started to work on their room. and my room needed some work. There were supposed to be kids in their doing work for me but the principals and one AP pulled them off of the job so that they could help them clear the hallway. The AP repeatedly said she wasn't trying to come in over the weekend. While the kids were walking away from my half papered boards I was heading towards the psychiatrist for my every other monther. Once you do well with your bipolar, and show that you have your stuff together you wind up not having to go as much. My dad only goes like twice a year. My birthday would prove that I'm nowhere near that level. Especially after around drink 13. At this point I had tore apart my apartment and drank everything inside of it, downed a 24 can on the train ride down, and stopped in the town pump for a free shot I had coming to me so that by the time I met up with my boy jason I would have double digits under my belt. I remember being a loud ass with him up through drink 12, which was around the time the girl I've been seeing showed up. what is the vice versa equivalent of muff caddying? scrot' caddying? pole caddying? well she was had a couple of dudes in tow who were her good friends in college. I remember saying whats up. I remember drinking 13 FAST. I remember telling her about the movie script I had written that night (biracial game hunter who has a ahab-esque obsession with the mythical unicorn roaming the serengeti). Then I apparently went into a full scale, loud manic rant. Racing thoughts, brash behavior, and I accidentally broke up with said lady friend while she was in the bathroom. During a tearful phone call with this lady friend yesterday we realized that most of my behavior lines right up with what this site calls mania. Happy Birthday me.
5 comments:
happy birthday
setbacks are unfortunately to be expected--hang in there, figure it out, step back up to the plate.
im hopping on the train to a less drunk lifestyle--cant take the booze-addled brain mornings anymore
all aboard.
carl, maybe you should have stuck with edward 40-hands. that would have made it much more difficult to cross the threshold of full drunken jackassery...without falling asleep first.
...seriously, though, i'm really sorry to hear about lady friend, etc. troubles. boston misses you.
Thanks guys. I plan on going to boston sometime soon, I'll try to give you a comment well in advance letting you know.
Seriously if you want to hop on the train just take a month off. I did it when my grandma died last year, and I'm doing it now. You save SHITLOADS of money. SHITLOADS!!!!!
"progress, not perfection"
keep your head up. there's many lines in life that shouldn't be crossed, and dtumbling near one is scary, but it happens. i assume less stumbling helps, and as a new member of this train, i guess i'll find out
ever heard the Brooklyn Public song by J-Live? you can probably relate...
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