go enjoy that heat if you are in sf! i don't care if i have to take multiple cold showers a day and my only refugee is water and the beach. this weather is needed. it will be in the 50's by friday. so take that look off your face and go bask in the sweat of it. . .here is a quick write for the phrase- humor me-about a new years eve gone terribly wrong.
Humor me and tell me I’m not like the others. The other drunks out there. Go ahead. I might have believed you. I might have. I crossed the line over drinking too much early on in my career with the bottle and finding my head in a toilet and to the bed and to the toilet and to the bed. I would drink in such a fashion that my mixing, my escaping would put me completely out of commission. There was no ‘a few drinks’ in my vocabulary.
So the first time it went to physical violence, I was at a New Year’s Party just nearly out of the supposed grownup stair of college. The party was the type that costs 100 dollars but there is no food in sight but with an open bar to boot. I was having a love affair with vodka cranberries. I was hanging out with my older cousin and her friends-they my 5-year seniors. No food -me humping vodka crans all night after the infamous double-parked break up of my last boyfriend. I asked if he wanted to go to LA with me. He told me he wasn’t in love with me anymore. While double-parked in front of his house. Nice. That kick to the gut hurt. Hurt so much that my pain could be only minimized by you guessed it- that stupid open bar.
Fast-forward to I am now staring at my own reflection with blood all over my face. I stared at my bloody mary version of myself and I had no idea what had happened. I had no idea how I had got to that bathroom or how I was injured. I was staring and crying and women around me staring. Staring. Because who comes to a 100 dollar a ticket party and gets into fist fights. Something must be wrong with her their thoughts not spewing out but mixed inside their heads below their perfectly done hair dos. No blood was on their faces. But bloody mary I was.
My cousin appears and asks me who had done this to me. I don’t know I am breathing now through blood and tears and guilt and embarrassment. I didn’t know. Kate you have to tell me. I have to kick their ass. I didn’t know. I didn’t know what had happened. I knew I was in a fancy place and my love affair with vodka crans was done for now and I had an awful gash across my nose. My cousin gave me the first aid of family and of backup and putting pressure on my nose. I am going to figure this out as she stomped out of the public restroom. I didn’t care what happened anymore. I just wanted to go home.
My lawyer cousin became the investigator outside those doors of my protection. I wanted to go home but to go outside in the middle of a fancy party seemed like death to me. I might have, I might have broken my nose. Holy fuck. I am screwed. I hated the color red of my face, of my drinks. I hated the party for people not supplying food. I hated that guy for breaking my heart. I hated myself. I eventually would hate my cousin for keeping me there with a gash on my nose and then making me take public transit-the N home. In the bright lights of the train- everyone could see me, no bathroom where I could hide. I just closed my eyes and laid on my good friend’s shoulder. If I couldn’t see them-they couldn’t see me. It wasn’t real.
The facts came rolling in little by little not like a news station alerts more like calling someone without call waiting. It takes time to get through. You had to wait sometimes for the truth. So it turned out after my cousin had asked everyone there she knew and didn’t that I had gotten in a fight. A fight with the asphalt. Her friend replayed the torture of I was outside smoking a cigarette talking to him. When I came falling down like a tree in the wilderness. He thought I had blacked out. I hadn’t stopped myself. But he couldn’t stop me either. I had repressed all of it. All of it had. The worst part was I had to face my mother’s family the next day- a family I didn’t know very well- with a fucked up face. I had to come up with a story and quick. Humor me. Tell me the story.
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