The Slip-Up

Failure.

That's the only way to put what happened last night.

I failed.

But at least there's a lesson in that for me--I'm not as powerful as I think I am. Or else, I chose not to be. Maybe I didn't want to be strong or powerful and maybe I wanted to fail. Maybe I wanted an excuse to do something extreme--to convince MYSELF that I need help.

I woke up early yesterday and felt fabulous--productive. I worked on the editing for a few hours and got it all done. Then I met NDN for Lunch at Maharaja. We talked about the trip to Argentina. I was upset because I read Narc's blog again and all he posted about was his fabulous trip to the beach with the Exhibitionist. It doesn't matter because that trip was last Saturday and he called me Tuesday feeling depressed, but whatever...

After lunch I took off for my voice lesson. I explained (in a censored version of the past few months) why I wasn't at lessons. Then we agreed to "start again." Yesterday was supposed to be all about starting again. My breathing is all out of control because those muscles are ENTIRELY out of practice, but my voice is in reasonably good shape in terms of the cords themselves.

I got back from my voice lesson relatively happy, but exhausted from life. I watched Dr. Phil and then went to get a pedicure. I kept thinking about going to Cheers and telling myself not to go. Even as I thought it though, I knew I was going to go there.

When I left the nail place, I passed Cheers. Fuck it. I went in. I ordered a diet coke and a salad. I sat and ate and talked to BarMan. He was being so warm and friendly. I think because I had been so upset there the other day. I started to feel really depressed. Just about everything, I guess.

While I was eating, (and reading), Bezoukhoff called me. He asked where I was and if he could come by. IrishBird came on shift and told me that the Stallion had been there AGAIN, looking for me on Wednesday night. Bezoukhoff and I sat and drank sodas for a while. ThursdayGirl came in and gave me a hug. Bezoukhoff told me about his visions. We really have a lot in common. Then karaoke started. I sang Belinda Carlisle. I continued on the diet coke.

But then I gave up. I don't know why. I CHOSE to do it, but I'm such an asshole. I ordered a glass of Jack and threw it in with my soda. After that, I told BarMan to go to my "go to" drink. He laughed. I left Cheers at 3:30 with Bezoukhoff, or so I'm told. I was drunk drunk drunk. I don't remember the last hour that we were there or getting home. The last thing I remember is chatting it up with a boy who said he liked Elvis. He turned his collar up and started singing Elvis songs. I remember that MarriedGuy was there and I told Bezoukhoff that I had slept with him. Then I don't remember anything else.

Bezoukhoff tells me that I didn't want to leave. He says that I exchanged numbers with the Elvis guy. He said that he couldn't get me into my bed, and that I fell off my couch onto the floor. He had to leave me there.

I woke up this morning on my couch. The phone was ringing. It was Bezoukhoff. It was 10:30. He was worried and he reminded me that I had a meeting with IronChef at 11:00. Shit. I was still VERY drunk. I checked my phone. I had a text from Hammer sent at 7:05 or so, and it was already read. I was up at that time and read it? Huh??? I talked to Bezoukhoff for a while. I don't think I cried, but it feels like I did. I told him that I think I need help. I don't know what I think anymore. Maybe I don't need help. Maybe I just need RESOLVE. Like I said-- I just don't know anymore.

I did my best to make myself presentable, grabbed my laptop, bought some water and set off. I put on a ton of perfume and kept eating Listerine tabs so that I wouldn't smell like whiskey. I wasn't walking a straight line on the sidewalk. I kept veering towards the street and having to pull myself back from the curb. I must have bumped into a million people passing by Grand Central. When I got to IronChef's office, I took a deep breath and willed my swollen eyes to focus. I talked to myself in the elevator, willing the alcohol out of my blood.

I think I did a good job, because no one noticed. And once we were in her office and talking "business" (with her intern, Barbara), I actually did start to focus for real. By 12:30 or so, I felt the alcohol leaving my blood and my brain. Sweet relief!

I left there at about 1:30 to meet Bezoukhoff. We had lunch at Bloom's Delicatessen. I asked him to tell me what's going to happen with my life. He told me the following:

• In the next few months I'm going to become a workaholic; After my trip to Argentina with NDN this December I will take up an interest in Spanish.
• In the next few years I will write my dissertation on something having to do with the arts and the painful transition from Romanticism to Modernity.
• Following that, I will get a job first as an assistant and then as a full professor at an excellent university in a Southern state (perhaps Louisiana).
• I will meet my "special someone" in 5-6 years. We will marry and have at least two kids. What will this man be like? He will be European, study either musicology or philosophy and will have a passion for the American South. He will be pliable, but know what he wants. AND he will somewhat be able to keep me in line.
• My disseration may or may not become my first book but any event, in my late 30s I will write the story of my life which will be received with great acclaim. In my mid-late '40s my life book will become a Broadway musical. (I can just see it in lights: HYDE: THE MUSICAL)
• My golden years-- one of two things will come to pass:
• 1.) I will have a religious ephiany and join a Russian monastary as a nun. There I will channel my former vices into an overzealous piety. I will become a visionary and people will make pilgrimages to receive my visions.
• 2.) I will become somewhat of recluse, using the profits from my successful book and musical to buy a large Southern plantation. There I may again indulge in my youthful indiscretions and live out my years in peace. The occassional tour bus, perhaps run by Professor Bezoukhoff, may pass by.

Some life, huh? Now we're in the public library, but again, I can't focus. I can't think straight and I don't know how I'm going to survive here until 6:00 and work. Maybe I'll feel better in a little while...

But I failed. I only made it two days sober.

All I can say is that today is DAY ONE again, and I'll have to start from here.

Shit.