My Old Life

I used to be hot.  I used to use make up. I used to wear sexy clothes and yellow suede boots.  I used to go out to fancy hard to get into clubs, and get into the fancy hard to get into VIP section, then sit with the fancy hard to get people, and stare vacantly out into the world.

I used to live in New York City.

In the 12 years that I was there, the New York nightlife was a huge part of my existence.  It wasn’t just about the drinking, drugging, and looking racy; it was also about the dancing, oh, and the drinking and drugging, did I mention that yet?  I loved to go to nightclubs and bars to wiggle around until 4 in the morning.  Something about it felt fabulous, and exciting.  Like I was living my youth.

But my last year in NY I had decided to commit to a sober existence, and going out got kind of boring. Or maybe I was just boring?  I was too self-conscious to talk to anybody, and when you aren’t wasted on Redbulls and vodkas you realize pretty quick that bumping into sweaty people isn’t exactly “dancing.” It is more gyrating amongst sloppy drunks while avoiding people stepping on your toes.  I got to tell you something, drunk white girls with heels are some dangerous bitches.  Something that used to be so fun and glamorous suddenly felt alienating.  Everyone around me was enjoying themselves, but I was too aware of everything going around me to lose myself in the moment.  When I was wasted it was easy to relate to people because I was stumbling around in an arrogant haze thinking I was Puff Daddy.  But as a sober person all I could think was how weird it was that all these people were in a room acting like they are too cool to engage with anyone, when obviously we were all in this room yearning to engage with everyone.

Now my life is really different.  For one, I often wear fleece sweatpants non-ironically.  I live in the woods, surrounded by sticks and leaves rather than beautiful people with stick like bodies and leaf like personalities.  A night on the town means I go shopping for food past 6.  Being a mother in the cuntree is a lot different than a party girl in the city.

Last night I was watching the show “Girls” and they were getting all fucked up- acting wild running around NY- and I felt nostalgic for that old life.  But at the same time, I had a good run, and it would be kind of demented still trying to live like that now.  Like I would get home at 5 in the morning, hating myself once I ran out of blow and booze, and then have to wake up at 7 to help someone poop on the potty and listen to them talk about how they want two oranges, not one, because twinkle twinkle little star is so bright, and not falling.

Isn’t my friend wicked hot in this pic!!!???