Yesterday’s really hard day came complete with lunch hour not taken and dinner skipped in favor of a shower and some gussying for a certain birthday celebration. A vodka tonic there and two (or was it three?) glasses of wine at Sin-e, and I had adequately fitted myself for quite a nice debilitating hangover.
I have thus spent the day eating things that come in cardboard containers (Anna Maria’s pizza, Ben & Jerry’s strawberry), emptying the contents of my Brita and answering the phone with, “I have a headache.” Somewhere in there, I sorted laundry and made a brave attempt at grocery shopping but found that sunlight was playing mad, mad games with my currently too-small-for-my-brain cranium.
Everything considered, it was well worth it and a vastly improved end to a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (thank you, Judith Viorst).
I donned a pair of pink satin shoes for the evening (what doesn’t go with vintage jeans, I ask you?), and glowing their rosy frivolity, really almost nearly forgot about the fact that I may have made an egregious error moving to New York for The Job That Eats My Soul. You didn’t know it was that bad, did you? Well, it is. And that’s all we’ll say about that.
Anyway, back to the shoes.
They were magic. So much so that they gave me some sort of super powers that allowed me to do something quite un-me like. I went out by myself. I know. Shocking. In all the ways I am fully independent, it has never been something I could do easily . Move to a new city by myself? Sure. Not a problem. But go to a bar, a restaurant or a rock-n-roll show unescorted? That approaches levels of anxiety before unknown to mankind.
But I did it. And I will surely do it again. Maybe even without magical pink shoes. And probably better to do it with a bit of something in my stomach.
If you need me, I’ll be on the couch watching Coupling, Season III.
very braved. i bought an apartment in this city all by myself, moed here from the suburbs. yet i still won’t go out alone.
brave. i meant brave, not braved. i wish comments had spell check, darnit
As a side effect of my career plans, the going to concerts alone thing was never a problem. But if it’s not a diner with a counter or McDonald’s, I’m not sure I’ve ever eaten alone. And I’ve never. Ever. EVER. Gone to a movie alone.
Which is odd, given that I’m an only child and should be accustomed this sort of thing.
look, mr conceited, i don’t go around saying penis when i mean penis. i mean penis. car! penis! car!
Oh, dear Fish, I’m sorry to hear that the Dream Job has evaporated, leaving only the wotdideyegetmyselfinto sediments behind. Those sediments are caustic as hell, so keep them away from your soul and other delicate parts.
where did you get those pink super power slippers? i could use a pair, if only to go out socially. strangely, i can hit the tattoo /piercing parlors alone and have done recently, but for going out to social places, like bars and whatnot, forget it. i really need a pair of those slippers, fish. =)
oh, yeah, i hope you’ve gotten over that hangover!
see that’s the difference between a 25 and 41. I had a few vodka’s last night and it was all I could do today to take a shower, put on sunglasses and lip gloss and head round the corner for a latte and the newspaper. The laundry sat where it has sat for the last two days. At 41 a hangover HANGS in until around 5pm (coinciding with the return of the children)..then came the cooking, cleaning and mothering …but now I’ve hit the bed and said “never again” to vodka, in fact alcohol of any kind….The pink shoes sound great, where can I get some? And going out on your own is good for your sense of self esteem…and I am sure that the job will settle down… you can do it girl!!!
Going out alone? BRAVA!
As a side note, after watching and reading vampire lore for almost 26 years, I have finally figured out the attraction. It’s not so much that I want to wear vintage lace, velvet, cool boots and capes- tho that it certainly part of it and living in Texas makes that wishful thinking for most months out of the year- no, it is merely that I would love to prowl out on the streets, under the stars, in the forest and the cafes- AT NIGHT-ALONE. No fear, and knowing that if any other nightcrawlers accosted me, I could defend myself. Congrats to you on doing it in pink satin slippers- without a drop of blood spilled, too, I’ll bet!
pull out the digi cam! Let’s see the shoes!
I love going out alone. Ok, I’ve never done the bar thing (unless airports or drinks consumed while waiting for friends count), but some of the best times I’ve had at concerts and shows have been by myself.. no worrying about other people, just being happy. I also eat alone all the time, but I’ve only been to an actual restaurant where you are officially seated and served by a waiter all by myself once. Wasn’t so bad. Alone time is good.
I had never eaten alone, gone to a movie alone or pretty much done anything alone (and I am an only child) until after age 30.
Although still not my preference I will say that there is a certain satisfaction that can be found from this “act of independence”.
Viva la Fish!