In Which I Aspire to Be Beutiful, Dirty, and Rich.

Last night, I fell off the wagon. Kenny was in town and I wanted to have a good time, so I drank and smoked and drank like my liver was still a virgin. I got sauced and sassy and made new friends that I can't remember, and said hello to the ones I did. I was sauced and sassy and I didn't care who knew it. (Drink count was somewhere between 5-7, alternating between vodka and whiskey.)

As you are well aware, dear world, my self esteem as of late has been plummeting in a downward spiral. As far as that goes, last night was just what the doctor ordered. I was funny and helpful and I looked down, and I had the body of a striptease falcon. In a room full of comedians, I was making them laugh (boost #1). There were dudes everywhere (my element), and I flirted because I was a terrible girlfriend and was miffed that Matt had seemed distant for the last few days (damn text messages that have no inflection). I have a problem with seeking validation in the form of attention. I flirted with everyone in that room and everyone flirted back: the guy working the door, random friends of friends, friends in general...hugs and laughs were abundant (overall boost #2). Later in the evening, on the drive home, my friend Stephanie tells me that one of our mutualish friends thought I was hot. I've only seen him when our social circles overlap, so its like whatever, but still. It gives me a rush like BAM! I still got it. Its immature and slightly unhealthy, I know, but sometimes its just what I need.

Like my McDonald's hangover breakfast.

No matter what, I'll be fine.