Drunk, 2 am post-birthday post, to be (most likely) regretted in the morning

On Friday, the day before my birthday, I lamented to my mother my lack of a proper birthday cake. "Well, I sent you a check," she said, "go buy your own damn cake." True, dat. So I went down to the Wedge to get a piece of cake, and as I munched some of Matt Zust's chocolate buttercream-orange cake, I watched the second season of Sex in the City.

In the second episode, Carrie Bradshaw "accidentally" invites her ex, Mr. Big, to her birthday celebration at a hip Moroccan restaurant. Mr. Big mentions that he'll be bringing "someone else." As soon as she hangs up the phone, Carrie slaps her forehead. Dumb move! I stopped, a forkful of buttercream hovering before my hungry gob. Yes, a good lesson to remain cognizant of, I thought, given that my own bash, set for the next day at local gay dive the 19 Bar, would undoubtedly be attended by B and his...charming B, l'acrobat. Quelle Cocteau. What, pray tell, would the night bring? Drinks in faces? Bitch-slaps? Blowjobs in the toilet? Had I been a Carrie, I would have cowered in fear.

But I am no Carrie Bradshaw! I am Samantha, through and through! I thought to myself, I wouldn't sit there downing vodka tonics helplessly as my ex received lap dances from some twink belly dancer! I'd feed that thong a two dollar bill! And, true to form, the night went off flawlessly. It's difficult being someone's ex. You take deep breaths and remind yourself why you are single now, but at the same time you must steel yourself for the inevitable feelings of jealousy. It is proof of love, in its own, twisted way. I have come to the conclusion that jealousy is a by-product of possessiveness, which itself is a form of objectification and ownership, and eradicating that chain of emotions is paramount to living a happy life and not end up a stalker (the noun is on my mind these days...). Though whenever I tried to talk to him a trapeze seemed to appear out of nowhere, offering him a quick double-somersault escape from my vicinity, I found B's B to be nice and charming and good-looking. Good for them. The world is my oyster, too. When the condom guy came by, B took some for him and I took some for me. My twenty-sixth year will be a good one. I feel the waves building up, ready to crest. Thanks everyone for stopping by, for offering your libations to my upcoming year. I was flattered and humbled and lovely-fied to drink with you all tonight.

P.S.... Oh, and happy birthday to me--two publications arrived today in which I have pieces. Do pick up a copy of smoke: a london peculiar #4 and Gertrude. Both are great.

Listening to Pardon My Freedom from the album Louden Up Now by !!!

Posted by jason at October 3, 2024 02:41 AM