colette

ergh...

secret bruises
in tender places
one lost black glove,
maybe two
so pretty were the girls
all in black
cross-eyed
foul breathed
and whipping
beads, jet
corsets, tight, tighter
mink wrapped around a
much too small dress

well, that's one way I would describe this weekend
or as much of it as I can remember...
one minute I was all got up, then next it was three am and I was naked except for a Foster's t-shirt and vomiting blood and bile
ahhhh
alcohol posioning
3a-11 continous vomiting of nothing but things you aren't supposed to vomit, bits of organs, membranes, mucoid atrocities...
so dehydrated i was shaking violently
finally got down a few ice cubes without vomiting them back up, a great suggestion of my old man's
still haven't called my girl Louise (where the party was) to apologize and hopefully reclaim my dress, shoes, hat, wig, mink, gloves, jewelry...all of which I somehow made it home without.
*sigh*
"i'm a big girl! I can do it! Watch me drink!"
I think it was the champagne vodka sodas I was drinking. and not eating ...
stupid! stupid!
Im bummed mostly cause I blacked out and in theory "missed" the rest of the party, I hate getting it all second hand...
Artpunk and I supposedly beat each other up...she says I was hitting her repeatedly with my shoe...and then we went to sleep back at my house after I whisper ever so sweetly "you're my friend. you're in my bed" We have a strange friendship, that's for sure. I've never had bruises on my palms before...Both of us are quite beat up...

the weird thing is that I am of the believers that when youa re drunk, you are stripped of all falsehood, that your truth self comes out, unencumbered by the strappings of social manners and grace...this could mean i am a violent abusive freak with serious mental issues...

not to mention the shame...
the horror! the horror!