I'm weird. I'm a girl.

WARNING: If you actually know me, you might find the candor of this entry to be extremely uncomfortable.

So, last Saturday was one of my worst nights ever. I was at a party where I acted like a total drunken bitch and I have NO recollection of it. I've been able to put pieces of the night together with the help of some friends, but the scary thing is, left to my own devices I would be totally oblivious. I was THAT atrociously drunk. The trouble all started because of a boy. I've slept with this guy a couple of times, but it was never meant to be a big deal. After the first time, I didn't think that much of it, other than it was fun and I wouldn't mind doing it again. A short while later, we made out a little, at my suggestion, but he felt all weird about it and subsequently told me that friends should not hook up with friends. It's just too potentially messy. I now see that he was right, except I never actually thought we were friends, so I was like WTF? A short while after that, we ran into each other on the LES and ended up sleeping together again, this time at his suggestion. After the second time, and honestly, I don't know if it was just a chemical reaction, or if it was actual feelings, but I got the idea in my head that I liked him. I don't know, maybe it was because he was really nice to me, causing me to mistake fucking for something else. At some point I asked him out for a drink and in a really nice way he was like, I don't want to start dating and I don't want to continue fooling around either. I accepted this and let it go. Except I guess I really didn't - let it go that is. Otherwise Saturday night never would have happened. I was so horrible to him. The idea of running into him literally makes me sick to my stomach, because seeing him will remind me of being one of the worst manifestations of myself possible. I was rude, aggressive, jealous and following him around like a puppy dog. But not a cute puppy dog. A really mean rabid puppy dog, whose owner should seriously consider having put down. It was a mess. The saddest part to me though is that I'm not really an asshole, so the fact that I acted like such a huge one makes me really disappointed in myself. I was so drunk that I honestly don't even know what types of venomous stuff I even said to him, but I gather that it was really bad. He really lost his temper with me and rightfully so. It was the first time he ever treated me like some weird girl whom he had fucked a couple of times and had completely lost his patience for.

Anyway, over the next few days, as I tried to figure out what exactly happened that night, I got really sad, but also scared. I found it really alarming that I could be so atrocious and out of control and literally have no recollection of it. I mean, intuitively I know exactly what happened - I had a crush on someone, he didn't like me back and was flirting with everyone else at the party, I was already drunk and getting drunker by the minute and started acting like a total bitch because my feelings were hurt. It's a common enough scenario, but it still left me feeling like shit. As sad as I am that I will probably never be friendly with this person again, I'm actually glad that this whole ugly episode happened because it acted as a catalyst for reexamining a lot of other things going on with me that are either destructive, or simply don't make sense.

I've always looked to sex to fill other voids in my life. Anyone who has tried this knows that it ABSOLUTELY does not work, though that has never stopped me from trying. And I'm sure I will again. When I think about the things that make me upset that I just try to ignore, or the various times in my life when I've just felt really hollow inside and looked to physical intimacy as consolation, well let's just say it makes me incredibly sad and disappointed in myself.

The other major thing I struggle with is my relationship with alcohol. Sometimes getting drunk can cause me to be really fun and effusive, but sometimes it can result in what happened last Saturday. Now that I'm thirty, the guessing game has completely lost its charm. Waking up and wondering if I owe people apologies, or if I really embarrassed myself the night before just isn't as acceptable as it was when I was twenty-two, and let's face it, it wasn't all that acceptable back then either.

I'm just having a lot of growing pains right now. I'm really trying though.