oh, so i drank one, it became four

it starts with a drink.

or it starts earlier than that. it starts with, "i want to feel this, try this tonight." and it's then ceremoniously baptized with a drink, an edging towards the rabbit hole down into wonderland. brace yourself, alice.

***

one is never enough, but i always lose count at "too many."

***

there's a difference between being free and being out of control. i always remain on the border of the two.

***

until i start knocking glasses over and i'm just lucid enough to see someone give me a dirty look. what i must look like, i think. what this all must look like.

***

alas, i'm having an amazing time. and despite myself, i really quite like him. there's maybe three good reasons why i shouldn't be letting this happen, but i forget all of them with each conspiratorial look, this silent connection, this yes.

***

in new york, i sometimes went out by myself. looking back, looking at who i was at the time and what my life was at the time, i hardly believe it. it's not just a certain amount of bravery--and i don't need to mention the dirty mistress, vodka, who would visit when my marriage to logical reasoning was on the outs--but a determination, despite it all, to get out there and live and try and meet new people. i would say, "i always end up meeting someone." and i always did. and it never took long.

***

sometimes, and it doesn't take drinking to get me to this observational state, i watch the people who i know won't meet anyone tonight. i want to know their entire lives. i insist some misstep in life has led them to this point, standing along the wall with a drink, eyes darting from body to body. it's lonely, yes, but to be entirely present in the moment watching it, it's also something fascinating. i imagine being these people, and turning towards the thing i'd be hoping someone would distract me from. but they, and i, and all of us, simply have another drink instead. it's not sad, i don't think. we're all in this together.

***

you always know when you're going to kiss.

***

this isn't necessarily about what you think it's about, who you think it's about. this is so many nights. this could be any night.

***

i've forgotten at least one of the three good reasons i shouldn't be letting this happen. i've given up on another, and i'm just too drunk to care about the last one.

***

some drugs are supposed to make you hyper-aware of the world around you, to a point of induced enlightenment. say what you will, but that's why i stick to vodka. it takes the back route, by shutting down your awareness of the world around you, like closing all the blinds in the house until it's pitch-black, and there's nothing but the sound of your own breath, and the uncertainty of the next moment, and a complete disregard for what could be happening outside. with enough drinks in me, eventually it's just me and my totally uninhibited emotions, sitting together over a lit match squinting at each other. there seems to always be some moment, during these nights out, when i am alone with myself, and logical thinking has faded away, and i'm entirely taken up with how i feel.

***

we're not supposed to glorify drinking, or altered states of mind in general. and let it be known, that if i had the choice of finding enlightenment through, say, intensive yoga at an ashram or through enough vodka to kill a russian at a pulse-pounding gay club, i'd be on the first flight to india i could book.

***

in fact, i used to hate people who talked about drinking as if it could actually qualify as a topic of conversation.

***

to say nothing of the glorification of a drunken make-out session. no matter how good it was, and whether you'd do it again, even sober, in a heartbeat.

***

and one day, i'm going to settle into a life that doesn't always make for a good story to tell at parties.

***

also: i'll worry more about what people think after reading this than what they thought after reading about my petition. the contradiction is that i never want people to think of me as ridiculous.

***

but to be honest, i had a lot of fun.

***

and i think i'll see him again.