"I'll Just Take A Shot"

I'm attempting to pull myself out of my sad, "woe is me", crying victim mood I've been in the last few weeks. I know my recent posts have been pretty over-dramatic and semi-boring, and I do apologize. I'm sure I've turned quite a number of people off of my blog,  just because of my attitude. Trust me, it's not intentional and I wish the last few weeks hadn't happened.

So in an effort to start fresh, I thought I'd describe a bizarre event from my weekend.

Ok?

Ok.

My friends and I don't do many big trips together. We don't get a shore house every summer, go on long weekends up the mountains, or plan week-long vacations to tropical islands. I don't know why--whenever we hang out, we always have a blast--but we just don't.

Now there is one thing we never miss. Even if any of us has things going on, we still make time for it. Schedule our lives around it. Put down payments on it 6 months in advance.

That would be Wildwood's Irish Weekend.

 

The last official weekend of summer (meaning the second to last weekend in September, when Fall officially begins. NOT Labor Day, as many believe), the Jersey Shore gets flooded with green, orange and white for 4 straight days of beer, vendor food, beer, make shift stands selling Irish gear, beer, Celtic dancing and music, beer, and debauchery.

Did I mention beer?

Wildwood closes down one whole street, right by it's 6 major bars in the area (Keenan's, Westy's, Flip Flops etc.) and allows merchants to set up a street fair. There's live music and bands playing on the street and in the official Irish Weekend Tent, you can buy a commemorative "Irish Weekend" cup and drink beer as you walk around (until 9 pm then the cops will smack your full cup of beer right out of your hand. No lie, I have seen it done) and buy as much Irish gear as your little hear desires. The bars have extended hours and Irish specials, including all the major Celtic bands from the Jersey Shore and Philly.

It's seriously the best.

My friends and I (there are 11 of us now, as most of my friends are in relationships or married) usually rent a condo right off the strip for the whole weekend. It was a perfect location as we could run back and forth to the house whenever we needed to (to use the bathroom or refill our cups) and we could individually leave the bars whenever we wanted and not be afraid of someone walking home alone. We always got the same condo, in the same building but for some reason, this year we could not. Seems someone bought our unit--assholes-- and we were homeless for Irish Weekend. Luckily, my friend was able to find us another place, equally as close, but it was almost a duplex--a house split into 4 different apartments. It wasn't as nice, but the price actually turned out to be better and it had a great view.

So by Friday night, all 11 of us were finally in Wildwood and Irish Weekend was in full swing. We started early and were done pretty late. That first night, I think we stayed out until almost 3am and only left when we were all starving. Luckily, our house was conveniently right across the street from a 24 hours McDonalds. Needless to say, we emptied the place and were not quiet when we finally stumbled into our house. We were pretty loud, I'll admit--something really funny happened while we were waiting in line at McDonalds and we were still laughing about it. But I don't think we were up for more than an hour--long enough for everyone to eat and blow up their air mattresses.

The next day came and went as usual. We got up semi-early, drank through our hangovers, went to the tent to see the Irish Dancers perform for an hour or two, came back to the house, took naps, then got ready for round 2.

At about 7:30, we were in full party mode. There were about 15 people in our house--random friends of friends who were drinking our beer and being kind of rude to us--and things were getting intense on the deck with beer pong. At one point, two of my guy friends had gathered up some of the cans to take outside to the trash. When they opened our door, they were greeted by our upstairs neighbor. Now from the kitchen, we could hear the majority of the conversation going back and forth between the three of them and we knew they were complaining.

"It's 7:30! What do they expect! It's Irish Weekend," one of my friends whispered as we all tried to listen to the conversation.

A few minutes later, my friend came back and told us what happened. Apparently our neighbors upstairs were a group of old women who were not too happy with how we came back "screaming at 3am the night before." And would rather take it up with us then get "...you know....them involved," meaning the cops. The woman asked if we could please keep it down tonight.

Naturally we took the threat pretty seriously and at that point kicked all the un-knowns out of our house. Then we discussed the whole situation as a whole.

There were 3 things we all agreed on:

1. We were not THAT loud the night before. Yes, we may have been obnoxious when we first came in but it lasted no longer than an hour. We were also in the house with the doors closed, and not on the deck.
2. It's Irish Weekend and we were staying a block from where everything was going down--sorry ladies, you signed up for this! If you wanted quiet and peace that weekend, you should have rented in the Crest. Sorry
3. Those ladies had no room to talk. "When we walked back in to the house this afternoon, I saw 3 of those ladies passed out on the stairs with pizza boxes all around them,"recalled my friend Jess.

All that aside, we agreed we'd try to be quieter when we came in that night.

At that point my friend Danielle walked into the hallway to go back to one of the bedrooms by the front door. As she walked by the front door she noticed it wasn't completely shut and was being nudged open. She opened the door, only to find the same woman (the confront-er from upstairs) standing there, tapping the door with her index finger.

"Hi! Um...can I help you?" Danielle asked.

"Yea. Hi! I wanted to come in and hang out with you guys. Is that okay," the "confront-er" said. Danielle really wasn't sure what to do so naturally she just let her in. So she came right in and introduced herself as Marilyn, our 65 year old neighbor from Brooklyn.

"So what we drinking," she asked looked at all of our shocked faces.

"Um....beer," I said, still a little stunned.

"No shots? I want to do a shot with you kids," she said, making her way over to our fridge and counter of snacks and liquor.

"All we have is tequila," my friend Lyndsay said.

"You don't have anything else," Marilyn said, pulling empty bottles from our stash and looking quite disappointed.

"Well we're just drinking beer today Marilyn. Very sorry we're not prepared," I said.

"Fine. I'll just do a shot of tequila then," she said, pulling the almost empty bottle out and handing it to me.

So we filled the shot glasses up, divvied up the limes and salt--also showed our elderly neighbor the proper way to do a tequila shot (lick the salt, drink the shot, suck the lime)--and tried not to laugh. She then proceeded to tell us her life story, and apologized for yelling at us earlier. She blamed the entire thing on her "un-cool roommates". Then she left--only after she realized she drank the last of our tequila.

I can't explain the fits of laughter that broke out among the 11 of us the minute the door slammed behind her. It was the most bizarre 15 minutes of our lives. Don't get me wrong, it was not because of her age. As a group, we hang out with and drink with our parents a lot. But the fact that she had come down, 20 minutes prior and yelled at us for coming in drunk and loud, then wanted to party with us? Come on now Marilyn!

We were all pretty sure that she, herself, was very wasted--she was slurring her words and her eyes were rolling a bit. So maybe she was just looking for a good time and her "friends" were all passed out drunk.

And yes, we snapped a picture for proof

 Definitely a memorable Irish Weekend.

Thanks for the laughs Marilyn!

Friend or Foe?

"There comes a time in your life, when you walk away from all the drama and people who create it. You surround yourself with people who make you laugh. Forget the bad, and focus on the good. Love the people who treat you right, pray for the ones who don't. Life is too short to be anything but happy. Falling down is a part of life, getting back up is living."

If you've been following my blog over the last few weeks, you'll know that I am currently going through a break-up.

Yes, about 3 weeks ago I finally got some sense and ended things with my boyfriend of the last few months. The relationship itself was pretty tumultuous as it involved substance abuse on his part, and I guess I just wasn't worth putting "the bottle down" for. Yeah, I know we were only together for a few months, but Jesus God it felt like a lot longer. It was the worst roller coaster of emotion I've ever been on--*I also hate roller coasters and have never been on one, which is a bit ironic*. It was just drama-filled and exhausting, and I've never been involved with a guy who had so much baggage and crap. Every time I thought we were turning a corner and things were getting back to semi-normal, he'd go out on a 3-day bender and I wouldn't hear from him for almost a week.

Just had enough. Too young to be dealing with this. And he's not going to change. I think he is missing that gene.

So now that the dust has settled, and I'm trying to take back my life and start doing things for myself again, I'm trying to figure out and decide what to do in regards to him. Specifically in what capacity he can still be in my life. I'm not the type of person who just easily throws people away and acts like they were never important to me. I usually attempt to remain cordial with exes, and if at all possible, friends. We are still talking, and I know he has the foolish hope that we are going to get back together--let's recall the reason we broke-up; he is still drinking and this hasn't curtailed his outlook on it either, so that's why it's foolish. He's sent me a lot of sappy texts, about how much he misses me and how he just wants to hold me. Every time this happens, I'm very cold and bitchy in response and try and set him straight at every turn.

"Glad you're feeling this now, but you had me and blew it. Sorry," is my go-to response. It's harsh, I know, but I can't give him an inch anymore. When he goes to rehab, maybe I'll be a bit more understanding and loving. But right now? No, not gonna happen.

That's not to say I wouldn't like some sort of relationship with him. I do want him in my life, just not the capacity where his drinking affects me directly. In a way where I don't have to mop him up, or worry about what he's doing at all hours. I'd like to at least keep forms of communication open in case he needs me or anyone to talk to--I know he has no one in his life who he can actually talk to about his struggles and feelings. So really, I'd like to attempt a friendship of some form with him.

But that got me thinking....

Is it truly possible to be friends with an ex? Or am I just keeping him on the back-burner in case things don't work out elsewhere, or in the off chance he does turn a corner and changes?

Under normal circumstances, I do believe it is possible to be friends with an ex. Most relationships start off as friendships, and later evolve into something more. You need to have some sort of foundation in order to have a strong relationship. And in most cases, people will consider their spouses/significant other their best friend. You tell them everything, you are with them all the time, they're the first person you call when you are in trouble or in need--glorified best friend. And if things go sour, it's easy to just revert back to that friendship. You can still hangout, lean on each other in times of need, and talk without the messy complications that existed in your relationship.

But that's in an ideal, rosey world. And it rarely happens due to intimacy.

Once you are intimate with someone--in a physical manner--it is hard to get past what you once were. Sex complicates everything, and if you've done it once and established that connection through vulnerability, there will always be a slight tinge of longing for what once was. You'll always wonder, "What if," and having that person around all the time will only make it worse. No matter what you do, that past will always be there, and it can be extremely difficult for most people to separate the two. Especially if one of you attempts to move on with someone else. Jealousy will arise--either from the ex or the new guy--and lines must be drawn. I had a friend who's boyfriend would not allow her to hang-out or speak to her ex because they once dated--their relationship had successfully reverted back to a strong friendship. The new boyfriend always thought there was something going on behind his back--there wasn't--or that they'd get back together. He was a bit paranoid and actually started checking her text messages every night. Needless to say, the new relationship was short lived, and she and the ex are still great friends and NOT lovers. As long as there is trust and a mutual understanding by all involved, a friendship is possible. But most times this is not the case.

And I guess another factor in the whole "friend game" is how bad the break-up was. Like the magnitude of the pain you felt or what happened to cause the break-up. Personally, if you cheated on me or did something truly horrendous--like revealing 2 DUIs and a suspended license in front of my friends--then I want nothing to do with you. I want to pretend you don't exist and that the last few months didn't happen. If the break-up was messy and egos were bruised, most likely a friendship is not possible. But, if it was just a change of heart and you ended it in a mature fashion, a friendship is possible. I've seen it happen.

Or sometimes this happens...

Another part of this has absolutely nothing to do with friendship, but you disguise it as friendship just to make yourself feel better. That is keeping the means of communication open just in case things turn around with your ex. Kind of like a Plan B. These people want to keep their ex on short leash, just in case they can't find anything better. They want to be able to swoop back in, unannounced and reclaim what was once theirs. In my experience, I've seen this happen most when the ex has started pursuing someone else--now all of a sudden that person seems more attractive, once they may not be an option anymore. Kind of like the bratty, little kid who tells his parents he hates all his toys but then loves, can't live without them once they are about to be donated to another little kid.

"No! No! That's mine! You can't have that," they'll scream and pout.

On the other hand, pursuing someone else can sometimes send you running back to your ex. After you start dating someone new and it doesn't turn out the way you want it to--like the person ends up being a bit crazy--it can make you see that maybe your ex wasn't so bad. It's the whole "Grass isn't always Greener" philosophy. You might realize you were being too hard on your ex, and really he wasn't so bad. So sometimes people like to keep that communication open until they know their new person is a good fit. Totally manipulative and selfish, but it happens everyday.

I know a lot of girls who use this tactic. They'll basically end the relationship in technical terms, but keep things going on the emotional level--they'll still talk, hang out once in a whole, and lead the guy on until something new crosses their path. Then they'll pull the plug and cause a shit ton of drama. It's basically breaking up with someone twice because you're ripping the dumpees heart out again.

Now in an effort of full disclosure, I will pose the question to myself:

Do I really want a friendship with my ex? Or am I just dangling him until something better comes along? Is he just my security blanket?

Truthfully.....it may be a bit of both.

It's nice to have someone text you all day, telling you they miss you and want to be with you. Knowing someone is thinking about you all day is its own brand of high for me--something I really can't get enough of. One that I'd miss if it went away. At this point, there is no way we can get back together--which he is well aware of as long as he is drinking--but he still texts and calls me like his girlfriend. And I know he wants to be. I know it's all he wants right now, and although I know it's not a possibility I'm not turning him away either. A smart girl would've cut off all means of communication and dropped him cold turkey. But I just can't.

Maybe I am dangling him, and disguising it as friendship. Maybe the only way I can justify what I'm doing is to say I'm attempting a friendship, when in fact I don't really want one. That the minute a new guy comes into my life, our "friendship" will be over. And if that's the case, I am doing the most selfish thing possible right now and am not really thinking about him at all. It will make things 10 times worse in the end, if that does happen. I'm just prolonging the inevitable and causing more drama and heartache for myself and him.

I don't know.

I have a lot of thinking to do. And as much as I don't want to consider his feelings and just "do me", I can't drag him along with this. I do have to consider the overall outcome and how much I'll be hurting him--even though he definitely deserves it.

*Insert SIGH*

Change is Good

The last few days have been completely crazy, wonderful, and going at a speed-racer's pace all at once. I've sat down to write this post at least twice over the last 4 days (I meant to make this an August post) but the days have just gotten away from me. So I do apologize if you have been waiting for a new post from me.

First, I made the ultimate decision to end things with Kevin (my boyfriend). Last Sunday was a repeat of everything I've been dealing with the last few months--where he was supposed to meet up with me, but went and got drunk instead. I didn't cry, I didn't get emotional--which I'm pretty proud of. I just knew it was done. I can never trust him with my heart again. I can't let him toy with me and my life anymore, no matter how much I love him. It's not worth it to me. He is a lost cause, and I'm not. I have so much going for me and he has nothing that appeals to me anymore.

At this time, I don't think he completely gets how serious I am about this--he is still texting and calling me like normal, even though I have said to him at least twice in the last week that things are over--but that's on him. I'm done.

And happier for it. Realizing now how much stress versus joy he brought to my life. It wasn't worth it and never will be.

Working on getting my happy back. And I feel like I'm almost there :) 

But the main source of the crazy, wonderful is the early arrival of my niece, Maggie Jane.

My older sister brought this little bundle of joy into the world on Thursday, August 29th--4 days ahead of schedule. My family and I were on vacation in Sea Isle, New Jersey--all but my older sister and my brother-in-law. On Wednesday, things seemed to be progressing but we were sure our little niece/nephew (we didn't know what she was having) would wait until we came home on the 31st. Then my parents got a call at 4:30 in the morning from my youngest sister--who was not due to come down the shore til that evening--that my sister's contractions were 5 minutes apart and she was driving her to the hospital. It was a fury of clothes that morning--my dad actually got to the hospital with his shirt inside out--as my parents rushed home from the shore.

Unfortunately (for me) my parents asked me to stay down the shore with my grandparents and aunt, as it was too early to wake them up and they wanted to get on the road without having to wait. Plus, it just wouldn't be a good idea to lug them back--it'd be more stress to have them home alone then having them down the shore. So I stayed down the shore with them to virtually babysit, until we got word that the baby was here and my dad was headed back down to the shore to bring us all back--we needed more than one car to transport all of us and our luggage. It was the longest 2 days of my life.

The first day was tense; constant waiting for news and jumping every time my phone rang. Being down the shore, and basically paradise, lost all its charm when all I wanted was to be home and with my family. I was really upset and sad. News was coming every few hours--initially they thought she was going to be delivered before noon on Thursday, but the doctor had miscalculated the weight and she was just too big. A C-section was the only option, and at 5:12pm our little Maggie Jane was welcomed into the world.

I fell in love the minute I saw those chubby cheeks. She is perfect and beautiful and I just love her.

Unfortunately it was another day before I was able to get home and finally meet her. I literally drove from the shore to the hospital; didn't even stop to eat or use the bathroom. I cried like a baby the second I held her in my arms. And seeing my sister as a mother for the first time was really emotional. I saw the change in her instantly; that this new, little life was now her everything. And the love she had for this little girl is something I will not truly understand until I have one of my own.

But it's pretty damn close.

I can't wait to spoil her rotten--which has already started--and shower her with kisses and love. I love this little girl with every part of my heart.

Just look at her! How can your heart not melt?!

I also started work on my next big project--I know I said before that I started the research phase, but over the weekend I actually started the writing part. It feels great being productive again and actually working on something big. My first drafts are always really REALLY shitty, but they always seemed to come together once I transfer it to my laptop. I'm excited about the process and have been writing almost every night!

I've also decided to participate in a Writers Conference in October at Rosemont College. I'm a bit nervous about it, but I really think I need to get more involved with my peers and actually get some constructive feed-back on some of my work.

Wish me luck!!

Lots going on, but I promise to keep you all up to date! And I'll try not to bore you to death with countless baby pictures.

But it will be pretty damn hard!