I am writing this blog to convince myself to cease and desist!
I awoke in a Nyquil haze, full of self-indulgent feelings of fear and loathing..not in Las Vegas, oh never so elegant as that-- fear and loathing of this, the dawn of my 30th year of existence.
*Insert the screeching sound of a vinyl record halting to a stop*
Back up.
Last night was New Year's Eve and I was working. I was bartending, which means that I was facilitating the party, which means that I was not partying. Far from it! I was in a funk.
My snot-factory self was alone..or, rather, feeling very lonely in a room full of happy, drunken people enjoying the final moments of 2008. There was hugging, kissing and amorous dancing.
In my own defense, I was nearly incapable of smiling because of my red, sore nose which was peeling like a Rennaissance-era painting.
In the midst of this, I realized that I was nearly 30 and nearly alone on New Year's (since the boy was at a party in Paducah).
I wonder if all bartenders are lonely people. I wonder if they feel like voyeurs into the worlds of their bar patrons-- always on the outside, looking in.
So there I was, in the midst of a New Year's Eve party, feeling tragically, dramatically alone.
After three glasses of wine and a dose of Nyquil, I awoke on New Year's Day at approximately 1 p.m., puffy-eyed and ready to immerse myself in a day of crap TV.
First up, Lifetime made-for-TV movies. The first film starred a ridiculously beautiful woman with a low self-esteem and bad wardrobe, who made a list of things to do before she turned 30.
Hmmmmm.
Was this a sign from the great beyond?
I may not look like our Lifetime movie star, with her sleek body and pouty lips, but I am not too bad, I guess.
Doesn't every great romantic comedy begin with a woman who doesn't realize her full potential? Food for thought.
