| | |

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Another one bites the dust.

New Years Eve is the greatest night of the year. Okay, no, Halloween is. But NYE is pretty solid, too.

Teenagers, 20-somethings, and alcoholics of every age gather for a night of binge drinking and 4AM McDicks. To party their muthafuckin faces off, or wash away the stresses of Christmas and family get togethers. To avoid thinking of everything that you thought would happen but didn't didn't, or forget all the shit you couldn't handle to begin with and how it got worse. And then there's the few who drink for the taste and to celebrate "new beginnings" or whatever. This time around, I was doing all of the above.

I have had a shit year. Any time things would pick up, something worse would happen. 2013 was my year to finally get serious about my business, be a responsible adult, get to a place where I could actually pay myself a wage, maybe save something even if it's just a dollar. Instead, I spent half the year in bed, unable to cope with the concept of life for any number of reasons. Every couple of months - BOOM - shit storm. Breakup (which was meh, but channeling a previous experience), death in the family, painful anxiety attacks every half hour, and so on. In November, I nearly had my world torn in two. When someone you would lay down your life for nearly loses their own, it genuinely feels like you've been ripped open. Shredded. When you know you might never see them again, cancel all your plans. You're gonna be in bed for an entire weekend. Crying uncontrollably. But oh fuck, when they turn around, you are invincible! I'm still broke, still way behind on Hellhound, still fucked in the head, but I can take it. Jay's getting better every day, little by little, and so am I. Even as my mind gets even more twisted. This too shall pass, and all that.

My New Years Eve was awesome. No plans whatsoever turned into drinks at a friend of a friend of a friend's who had a doll that looked like a creepy version of another friend, and stumbling over to a nearby bar at 12:40, walking in the door just in time for the countdown, and for the person who was housing all our bags and alcohol to ditch us. During the pre-drinks, I managed to lock myself in the bathroom I didn't realize wouldn't re-open with anything short of luck. Or a body being hurled at it. Another few drinks and shots later, it was off to some pub I think was called The Unicorn?
Following the roars and affection over the turning of a clock, our Overloard of the Bags and Whiskeys ran out the door in a stumbling what the fuck? of drunkenness. We stood at the bar with our round one, seeing not a free table in the joint. Apart from one marked "reserved", which was immediately claimed. The waitress said we'd have to go if whoever came to claim their spot, but I doubt we would have been cooperative, so it's a good thing they didn't show. Though, if anything, we probably would have just insisted they join in our drinking. The place had who I assume was some generic bar band (was not remotely paying attention) playing covers all night. They must have been just as loaded as the rest of us, cause I have never heard Santeria sung so wrong. The verses were hacked in half and thrown all over the place, but whatever. It was confusing, but still fun. At some point they played something Lauren and I enjoyed, and we ended up dancing to what I'm told was the Foo Fighters.

There were more than the necessary amount of oh-so-stunning portraits of intoxication. Oh, digital cameras, how you have ruined my reputation on Facebook as anything less than a drunk.


To be perfectly honest, I like my apparent alcoholism. Sure, there's lots of drunk pictures of me. Yes, most of the family sees them. But it's usually a dozen or two at a time from one drunken night a month. And fuck it, I'm a 24-, soon (a month from today soon) to be 25-year-old, self-employed artist without children living in a jam/occasional party house, and I should be getting drunk all the time. Doing things. Having a life. But I'm not. I spend damn near all of my time and money on my business and my art. All responsible and shit. Most of the time. To a degree.

So here's to a new year! New stresses and mistakes, new beginnings and adventures, and being ever aware of how quickly things can end.

It's easy to take advantage, but it's much more fulfilling to appreciate.


  1. Ah, Luka...we were in a similar boat this year. Good riddance to 2013. Here's hoping we both get more positive than negative 2014. Here we come 25...
    Happy new year, Luka!