Hopita (hopita) wrote,


Seems like my entries keep getting month-of-the-year titles, eh?

So last night was yet another party at the Dafodil Collective, this one much less political and much more alcoholic. I wasn't much in the drinking mood (well, I liked the punch, but I'm still not a big fan of beer, so once the punch was gone, I drank water), which kinda sucked because everyone I was talking to or wanting to talk to was way more intoxicated than I was. This includes Chris, who I hadn't seen since late August or maybe early September. We had just a minute to talk early on, and then he left, and by the time he came back, I was talking to Gregg and Marc, and then by the time I saw Chris again, he was really fucked up. Frustrating. But I made sure to not let him leave without giving him my email address, so I don't lose him again.

I have a lot on my mind.

Sometime around 3 am, I got really disgusted at myself for smoking so much. My chest hurt. My throat was sore. And I haven't smoked since then. When I got home, I took all the ashtrays (well, all the non-metal ashtrays, anyway) and set them all to soak in the sink. Am I quitting? I'm trying. And I can't believe I didn't leave the house all day. I meant to swim and somehow I ended up taking a nap and falling asleep until like 5 pm ... no doubt a side effect of being at that party until the wee hours.

And standing and talking to Gregg and Marc ... nice guys, and I remember Gregg from Lava Lounge from the night that Monica and I first ran into H.W.S.R.N. (and I was especially happy to see Gregg after talking to that crazy train conductor guy). At the end, when Marc suggested exchanging numbers it felt like he was trying to pick me up and it felt weird, but then, I still gave them my info and took theirs. And somewhere around the same time that I was sitting on the porch in the drum circle thinking about smoking, I was also thinking about this concept I keep coming back to, about weight being a defense mechanism and about my losing weight being a statement that I'm ready to defend myself. See, this guy was a kissing booth. He had a little sign and wore a beret and basically got all the women at the party to kiss him. And Ceci was asking Lynn if she'd kissed him and she sort of shrugged it off - "nah..." - and I realized that I didn't want to kiss him either, and then it really struck me that this is what defending myself is all about. About not kissing a boy if I don't wanna. And the whole Marc and Gregg thing ... they're both decent guys and I really would like to have more friends, I just have to find the guevos to be clear, to say yes to hanging out and no to a date.

Jeez. Stream of consciousness. Yowza.
Tags: alcohol, big house, body image, h.w.s.r.n., me, parties, peezy, queenama, self-esteem, smoking, swimming

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