So I went to a Tribal Funk party at Mezzanine on Saturday and stayed out really freakin late....(or should I say early:) And was so hammered I was tuning in and out of the sound of the music, the definition in people's faces, and any conversation that lasted more than one or two sentences.
Ugh.
I'm pretty sure that my tendencies to be a total bitch cunt when wasted have toned themselves down now that I'm older, but I can't be sure; and whenever I feel like I'm ready to piece together the separate moments of the night into a single, detailed memory I cringe a little somewhere deep inside and force my brain to look away.
Not healthy behavior, really.
But I can't deny this urge to destroy myself sometimes. Day-to-day living can make me feel like I'm holding my breath for something to meaningful to happen, and if I go too long not breathing I need to destroy.
Anyway, like I said I'm fairly certain that my aggro tendencies have mellowed over the years, but I have some horror stories of picking fights with cherished friends, heckling DJs that didn't impress me, even kicking some dude that was mean to me in the face. The sad thing? The face-kicking moment was like the HIGHLIGHT of that boring ass party for everyone. They finally had something to talk about, rally around, bitch about.
Sigh.
I'm not unhappy, I'm just sayin.....
I guess I'll go to yoga tomorrow. I've got to let my breath out somehow.
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1 comment:
I remember you kicking a guy in the face once from onstage at a Molasses show ... was it the same guy? Same face? (Same go-go boots?) I'm pretty sure it's not, because I'm pretty sure you don't remember that one. Which makes it way cooler.
But you're right -- at some point, we have to pass the torch to the next generation of drunken face-kicking party blackbelts ...
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