Drink by Drink. Thoughts from Barrymores.....

Alone with my white zin. Man, that sounds like the pathetic mantra of a blissful alcoholic. The fact is this. I'm sad. Yes, I do feel like a pathetic, yet blissful alcoholic. Nice sentence. My creativivity has all but vanished and I'm blaming it on work. So tonight is not merely an excuse to cry in my drink, but also a celebration of sorts. I'm through with the crazy work-your-ass-off-to-get-caught-up routine that has encumpassed the past month and a half of my life. Now, its back to normal... I hope. Also, and did I mention, I'm blue. It may be because, once again my seasons are changing. I look at what I have and it doesn't seem like anything belongs to me. I often fail to understand that I'm a 27 year old woman, not a child. But I feel so much like a child. I want my dad. I want to hear his laughter, I want to feel his big, strong arms around me, I want to hear him say he loves me. If I could only have these things one more time, maybe I could leave this childhood behind and become an adult. But childhood is where he left me and I may be doomed to stay here. Until I find some way out, that is. I apologize, but these words are flowing as freely as the glasses of white zin that I plan on retrieving from my sweet waitress. And frankly, if I don't spill my heart in some way tonight, I may not make it. Yes, these words seem drastic, but you don't understand this brain of mine. So completely full of so much love and creativity. Creativity looking for an outlet and love looking for a vessel. 1st glass done. ***So I'm working out earlier tonight and and I could find nothing better to watch on TV than the Country Music Award show. Not good in my condition. Everything! Everything is a painful memory. Special guest - George Jones. Makes me think of Grandpa Gregory. Perhaps the closest thing to a human angel as I ever knew. His death was witnessed by all who loved him and as he lay dying in his bed, I also watched grandma as she witnessed his quietus. They were like salt and pepper, those two. A pair. He should still be here. I like to think everything happens for a reason and there is a positive effect from even the most drastic of tragedies. I still believe this. But his death continues to baffle me. The only good thing it caused was for me to see Jason (my then fiance) in his true colors. Where was he while I watched my grandad die? I think that was the night he was having a threesome somewhere. But it's my fault. After all, I had been too depressed to have sex with him myself. I guess that makes it ok for him. Now that was shitty, but what good came from it? I am now a stronger, bitchier woman. Comes in handy. Sometimes. Who was it that said "sometimes being a bitch is all a woman has to hold on to". Second glass done. ***I picked up some pictures tonight; taken a month ago at Sidetrack. There's one of me and my friend Jen and who happens to accidently be passing through right behind me but a certain man, who will remain nameless, - the victim of a one-night-stand with yours truly about 5 years ago. Long and short, we met at Sidetrack, left together, made out in some alley before somehow driving back to his place for the usual fun stuff. Morning after. I gave him a fake number. Wonder if he remembers. He was nice. Honestly, I always meet nice guys. It just goes to show, "birds of a feather...". I don't know how I met Jason. Maybe the old adage "Fuckin' assholes need love, too" comes into play here. Or better yet, "insecure bitches get screwed". Ok, I made those up. Can you tell? I'm done with my 3rd glass. *** I've always said I have a 3 drink max. Where the hell is my waitress? The bar is getting more crowded. No one I know. No one seems to notice me; a damp-haired blonde scribbling maddly in this here journal, praying for another drink, oh, and a cigarette would be nice, too. Where is she?! Man I needed this. I think it's just one big squeeze. Oh, and now Dave Mathews is singing. Yes, to me. Must be off his new CD, the one I don't have. I told Lathen if I ever had a chance with Dave, I was going for it. Don't care if I'm married or whatever! To bad we couldn't have that agreement more often. I'd love freedom like that once in awhile. I'm sure he would, too, but no way in hell I'd let him have it. Double standard? Yes. My waitress is packing my cigarettes for me. She's cool. Big tip. Ok, what glass am I on oh yeah 4th done. ** Ist drag ** I'm not a smoker. But sometimes. And yes, sometimes I miss that pot. "It really enhances sex" I always used to say. You can thank Josh for that. He was my three month one-night-stand (his words) about 4 years ago. First orgasm with a man present, thank you.. He makes my happy list. And if I listed everyone, you'd be astounded. But now I love Lathen. Love him. He loves me, too. So much that sometimes, it scares me. He's my cowboy. Morals, personality, tall, dark, handsome, big penis. Too bad I rarely see him. To bad I've disappointed him so many times. Oh. and now they play George Michael!? At this point, I'm drunk. Thank God I'm alone. If anyone were sitting her with me, they'd be hearing all this through loud, slurred speach instead of reading it days later. and who knows what else. Oh well. I'm actually starting to feel better. I feel like singing a sad song. I used to write songs, you know. They're all in a trunk somewhere. Some of them aren't too bad. Sometime I'll share them with you. 4th glass done ***Time out for a cigarette. Some nice boy just asked me if I wanted to join him and his friends at their table. I politely refused. Nice of him to ask though. Well, I've been writing and drinking for 2 hours now. It's 11:00. I think I'll stop now, before I say any more. I'll leave you with this pathetic poem...

I am this and this is me
I may not be what I want to be

but when I'm not, what can I do
but take some time to be blue

for when I'm blue, my soul revives
it conjures up what's deep inside

I let it out, take comfort in
what's done is done
from here, begin

~Written on the spot for me by me~

Oh brother!!!