skinny bitch

After I successfully demolished my parents' house, any chances of using their car in the future, and an already fragile relationship with the only two direct relatives I have, I thought it was high time for me to listen to that little voice inside my head that keeps me out of bad places, like jail, and run away to Destiny's casa in McKinney.

Now Destiny and I have known each other for about seven years now, about as long as she has had her son, T, and her ex-husband, Asswipe. She was one of my best friends, if not the best friend, through every major breakup and every major catasrophe I have ever endured since I have been of drinking age. Knowing this and that we're both the same age, self-destructive, cell-phone destructive, and relationship destructive, it makes sense that she would be my first friend to turn to.

After I filled her in on all of the details and that no, we couldn't fix all of the things I had broken before my parents got home, we both decided that the best panacea, the best way to forget about everything, was alcohol. 

Saturday night started off with that pigment-rich cocktail only available in the house of a single mother, a vodka kool-aid. A few hours later we found ourselves drinking in public (never a good idea) and I, being the classy drunk that I am, was only able to cease drinking for the 2.5 seconds it would take to churn out invaluable gems of profundity like, "the only things that matter in this world are being skinny and being able to smoke."

Deep. The fact that I have any friends at all is sometimes truly remarkable, really.

Not only do I not remember busting out this pearl of wisdom, but apparently it was followed with me being told I couldn't smoke inside of the bar we were at (this was not Japan, after all) which, for reasons my sober self will never understand, prompted my drunk self to toss my cigarette on the ground at the manager's feet and extinguish it with my foot. 

The fact that I wasn't kicked out at that point is either a testament to how cute I am or how retarded. Whichever it was, the scene was invariably repeated the next night, at the same bar, but instead of waving a cigarette around I was waving around a microphone singing the lyrics to You Give Love a Bad Name. 

20+ hours of planes trains and automobiles later, I'm back home in Tokyo, finally, and I'm bound and determined to put a positive spin on a week that *maybe* could have been a little bit more productive and a little bit less volatile. Just maybe.

It was great to spend more time with my friends, absolutely. Nevertheless, (fuck the positive spin) my decision to spend the remainder of the week at Destiny's house had less to do with socializing and more to do with an innate sense of self-preservation. If I had been unfortunate enough to have been present at my parent's after they came home from their musical my mother would have sauteed me for dinner and my dad, in his unending quest to placate her, would have allowed her to.

After the incident my mom emailed me two scathing letters, basically severing any ties with me and informing me that she is going to keep the house "as is" for whatever completely insane and unsafe reason her brain came up with. Quite sincerely I feel really bad about what happened, I really do, but seeing as my parents have never really liked me that much to begin with my mind has been occupied with more important things. Like clothes, for example. 

I still don't have any.

In between my mom yelling at my dad for being too old and me breaking every antique in the house, I wasn't able to find the time to go shopping for winter clothes that Saturday/Sunday like I had originally planned. More importantly, and this is very important, my dry cleaning (which includes my coat and almost every dress I own) is still in Dallas for that same reason.

This means that I left Texas with less clothes than I went there with, and, as if that wasn't bad enough, completely failed to obtain any of the clothes I went there to buy in the first place.

Thank god the only things that matter in this world are being skinny and being able to smoke, right? At least now that I'm back in Tokyo those two things can not, will not, be taken away from me.

Comments

[-Paul]

Nice wrap up of the trip! and correct, they will never be taken away from you. Glad your back safely.

[lea]

weird, i have also done too many of the things you just wrote about. except i blew smoke right into the face of a rather large bouncer who told me i couldn`t smoke in a club. not recommended!

[john turningpin]

Never good to hear about lost clothes, and even worse to hear about family drama, but like -Paul says, glad you're back safe.

[Chris B]

I feel some of that pain. Have virtually no family and just drank my way into a really bad mental place where I exploded on several people including adult students. Why they stay I will never know???

[dani]

Glad you made it home safe, sorry you had to deal with your mom. Remember You always have a place to stay so long as you can deal with two rugrats. See you in a few months

[Aislin]

Do you think that your friend could get your coat and mail it to you? Maybe V will give you the money to send her to cover that.

Never been kicked out of a club before, not that bold. Also not social enough to really go to clubs. Only been to a few. Must be a interesting experiance to have a bouncer come and ask you to leave.