I, the booze drinking table dancing girl, have never went out on Black Wednesday.  I have been frequenting clubs and bars since the ripe age of 19 and have never even thought about going out on Black Wednesday.

Black Wednesday is a night of drunken debauchery which I am all about but included in this drunken debauchery is crowds of ignorant people which equals elbows to the head and spilled drinks on expensive clothes.

I dont do crowds of ignorant people.  I rarely do crowds of people. 

Dont get me wrong, I go out a lot and deal with crowds of people but never wait in line to get into a club, never wait in line to get a drink at a club, and never go to a club where I will be pushed and shoved by jackasses.

I don’t do that scene.

There is no club like the above available on Black Wednesday because every club in the city of Chicago is full of drunken assholes and any “hookup” you may have becomes obsolete.

L asked me to go out on Black Tuesday because originally our other bestest was working Thanksgiving and wouldnt be able to go out.

She knows that I despise Black Tuesday. I (gulp) agreed.

We had the conversation about 3 weeks ago and I have slowly tried to prepare myself.  I visted Walmart, frequented these stores with food called grocery stores, and all of my visits to the unemployment office have definitely covered the “ignorance” I would face.

When we discussed the whole Black Tuesday ordeal I also decided to agree on going out on NYE this year.  Crazy?  Yup… thats me.  I usually have a shindig at my house on NYE because again its one of those days that anxiety stricken K cannot handle. 

During our agreement, we both agreed we would go to a place near home which I hate on a regular basis let alone on a busy as day where I would wind up running into every single person I went to high school with and I went to 3 high schools, possibly ex boyfriends, and definitely ex friends.  We both thought it was the best idea because it was close and we would just cab home.  115 Bourbon Street here we come!  I say this with all sarcasm that I can produce.

We found out a week ago that Jax our other bestest would be off on Thanksgiving and would be painting the town red with us.

I then come home from a trip to the grocery store today.  Yes… I survived a grocery store 2 days before Thanksgiving without the assistance of a benzo or a fifth of vodka.  L and my brother are looking at Manor’s website which is downtown.

What??!? I did not agree to all that and hate to be blindsided.  I like to be prepared.  There is definitely a different dress code for me if I was to go to good ol’ 115 and if I was to go to a club downtown.  I am not tan.  My toes need painting.

This puts me in a rage and I get very snotty with L telling her I am not going out if thats where they decide to go.

She pretty much shrugs me off and continues to say she is going to call her brother and see what he wants to do.

Are you serious?  I am going out because everyone I thought wanted me to and now it has turned into a situation where my opinion doesnt even count?  Our other bestest Jax is now off Thanksgiving and would be joining us but that does not mean that my opinion means shit.

Jax calls me complaining that she doesnt want to do anything tomorrow let alone go downtown which baffles me because the idea seemed to come from her.  What?

In conclusion, I have no idea if tomorrow will be my 1st Black Friday out.

I would be quite happy sitting at home with a couple of bottles of Pinot Grigio and my bestest then possibly slashing the cheating bastard DILF’s tires.

Oh ya… did I forget to mention the DILF had a girlfriend when he decided to bang me in the back seat of his mercedes?  She contacted me through MySpace but that is a whole nother blog for a whole nother day.

Off to attend to more important things like my Arbor Mist that is chilling in my freezer.  I am hoping it doesnt look like this

The friend who stop by with a huge bottle of Arbor Mist and tells you that you look cute in your festive Karen Neuberger pajamas.

The friend that you can chat with for hours about absolutely nothing and surf the net simultaneously stopping to chat about what you found.

The friend who looks at you for guidance and gives you all the guidance they can.

The friend who teaches you how to make a pot of coffee after finishing the huge bottle of Arbor Mist.

The friend who spends 237428397 minutes with you establishing what you can or cannot eat at food establishments due to the nutritional content.

The friend who says”bitch… stay classy” as they leave your front door and kisses your cheek instead of giving you a hug.

How does one bring their 14 year old sister to a personal training session, wind up joining the personal training session, almost die, and then sign up for 30 personal training sessions?

How?

Yes… I did look like an unfit monster next to my svelte 100 pound sister.

In other news, I swindled my stepdad into buying my NYE dress.  Actually, he offered as I do not swindle my parents for anything.  The roof over my head and food in my belly is enough.  I also accept the economy sized boxes of Fiber One bars and 100 calorie Pita Chips my Mom brings home from Costco with open arms.  Ya… they have 100 calorie packs of Pita Chips at Costco.  Fabulous?  You betcha.

My NYE dress was purchased and cancelled in 15 minutes flat.  I sent the link to L and she gave it the thumbs down.  I quickly engaged in an online chat with a Nordies representative who cancelled the order.  This was the dress.

It is 3 am and I am wide-awake twittering to a very dead twitterverse.  I tiptoed out of my bed, not to wake the 8 lb dog that howls once he realizes I have left the vicinity, and decided to type away at the ol’ desktop.

This will be a post of substance, random and casual but will contain substance and bullets.  Who doesn’t love a bullet post?  That’s what I thought.

Things rambling around in my head, as I lay wide-awake mesmerized by Anderson Cooper whom I think secretly has a crush on me:

• Why has the mentoring volunteer program not responded back to me or returned my telephone calls.  Do they not find me fit to mentor a grammar school child?  That hurts.
• I secretly enjoy being the topic of people’s MySpace and Facebook status messages.  Keep ‘em coming!
• Arbor Mist Blackberry Merlot is pretty damn good.  It tastes nothing like Merlot and does not give me the allergic reaction red wine gives me.  Perhaps because its just a wine cooler in a wine bottle?
• I feel so dirty when I leave the unemployment office.  I feel as if I should run through the first sprinkler I see because lord knows us Chicagoans love to water our grass even if its 4 pm on a rainy fall day.
• I am throwing the idea around of joining a dating site while I am on sabbatical.  I have the time and will soon not have enough money to feed myself therefore free dinners would come in handy. 
• Yes.  I reference my lack of job as a sabattical.
• I miss my best friend.  I am tempted to burn all of her schoolbooks so she can’t study.  Damn, overachiever!
• I have finally accepted the fact I do not have a filter of any kind.  I have a screen door when I am sober but the screen door flies off like a bat out of hell once a drop of alcohol hits my lips.  This often causes chaos.
• I looked at ExAss’s MySpace page for the 1^st time since the whole MySpace extravaganza.  He is still dating the 34 year old but they both have gained about 20 pounds.  I am not going to lie this made me extremely happy.

The substance has ended.  I am off to tweet to an empty twitterverse and gaze into Anderson’s eyes.

Have you checked out this blog?

She dances, cooks, cleans, pounds martinis, and raises 2 kids.

Leave her love!!  She is a new blogger looking for some love from the ol’ blogoshpere that I have been a part of for almost a year.

I have probablly said it 23423423 times on this here little blog but I life a life full of fun things… these fun things include depression, anxiety, panic disorder, and the funnest being Borderline Personality Disorder.

I am off track with this blog when it comes to documenting my fight to overcome mental illness for my own self and to pounce on the stigma it often raises.

Why am I off track?  I am off track because I am no longer receiving weekly therapy sessions, due to my lack of insurance now that I am unemployed.  I am crawling back into the hole one foot at a time and just giving up.  This is no excuse.

Thats the truth.  Thats the reason why I havent done much meaningful blogging.  I am giving up on myself as each second comes by.  It hurts like hell.

When I began this blog I was in control of Borderline Personality Disorder but I am slowly relinquishing myself to the throes of the disease I have tried to overcome.

I leave you with an excellent article that explains to you without me garbling on and on why dating is so difficult for me.

Please read this article if you regularly read my blog.  I do not want to be considered that girl who just strives off of the drama and the attention. 

I also would like to reiterate my Mission Statement for my blog:

“To decrease the stigma surrounding mental illness; to keep a record of my own thoughts, reflections and observations as I glide and sometimes stumble through my 20-somethings.”

Now… in order to accomplish that I need to begin working on myself harder than ever.

The Dutch is a man of the past.

We went out for dinner last night.  Things were fine.  He was a little bit more arrogant than usual and I being the loud mouthed bass I am called him out on it.  I just felt such a drastic attitude change from our first date was a little odd.

The night ended with a kiss and a few exchanged text messages.

Things were not the same as after our 1st date.  I sense things, I am a woman. 

He didnt text me until about 3pm today and was very distant with his texts.

I decided to throw the ball out there and sent him a text, “Alright.  I am not feeling it from you after last night.  I am unsure if I am misreading you but I dont want to waste your time or mine.  Just let me know if thats the case”

He didnt respond.

I am not one to go chasing guys and when it comes to playing games with someone I am truely interested in, well I am attempting to bite that habit in the ass.

I threw the cards and he hasnt picked them up.

Le Sigh this is why I never begin to like someone and have such a hard time letting people in.

Do all amazing nights have to end with me doing something obnoxious, illegal, or life threatening?

I went out with Dutch on Saturday night.  If you follow me on twitter, then you know I was kind of hesitant on giving him a chance because of the following:

He has connections with N.  He is on N’s brothers football team.  N has a crush on me and I was afraid it would cause some friction with N and I.

He asked me out via text message.  This is fine but the text message was as follows, “Are you free Saturday night?  We could grab dinner at TGIF or somewhere else if you want fancier.  Its my treat.”

I almost swore him off forever after he asked me to TGIF on a Saturday night.  I just felt he could have done a better job impressing me.  I also felt the “its my treat” was unnecessary.

Im not that bitch … I promise.

I decided after a 2 hour drunken conversation with him on Friday night that he deserved a chance and I was beginning to feel really psyched for our date.

He picked me up at 7:30 after I changed the time he would pick me up twice.

Im not that bitch … I promise.

He was on time, opened the door for me, and greeted me with such aura.  I cannot explain it.

We decided, well I decided it was best for us to head over to a wine bar near my house.  The martinis flowed and so did the conversation.  Before I knew it we were gazing into each others eyes over the flickering candelight. 

The professor gave us an A+ in Chemistry - without a doubt.

The piano was quite loud at the bar so we decided to head over to a smaller quieter location.  I sipped on a couple vodka tonics and he had a couple vodka 7s.  We talked about our backgrounds.   We joked about the silly things we had done in the past.

He was a perfect gentleman through our second round of drinks.  He pulled out my chair, took off my jacket, offered to switch seats with me because I was complaining about the draft, and did everything he could to make me feel at ease.

I asked him if he was going to attempt to kiss me goodnight when he dropped me off.

He got up off of his seat and kissed me from behind on my cheek. 

LE SIGH!

He drove me back to my house with our hands never untwining. 

We got all kissy face before I went inside.  He also invited me to lunch after his football game on Sunday.  I agreed and the moment I agreed I couldnt wait to see him again.

I then step one stilleto out of the car, fall into a small ditch, and sprain my ankle.

TADA!

He rushed to my side and walked my limping ass to the door.

Where have all the cowboys gone?

Im going out to dinner with ExGreek tomorrow.  Our rendevous last week raised a lot of questions, at least on his end.  He professed his undying love for me.  He then told me I played with his mind like Hannibal Lector.  Really?  Who fucked with who’s heart strings during our 1 year relationship?

There is no more backseat action for the DILF and I.  He went MIA for a week or so and came back asking me if we could continue dating exclusively before he moves 2-hours away to see if we should continue the relationship when he moves.  I said absolutely not.

Mister is no longer a crush.  I have lost interest.  We flirt via text but nothing has evolved. 

Thats where all the boys have gone…

There is one boy in particular that I will blog about later. A first date ending with me falling into a ditch. 

He deserves his own post and I hope he doesnt go anywhere anytime soon.

Calling exboyfriends drunk is bad but I prefer to attempt to destroy relationships that have yet to begin.

Things you probablly should NOT say to a guy who has interest in you and is taking you out to dinner the following night:

You like opening the door for girls and I like slamming doors on the guys I date.  We will get along well.

The last time I engaged in “adult fun” was Monday. (with exgreek)

What are you “dutch” people all about?  Is it more than the windmills?

Three qualities to describe myself… obnoxious, loud, and often bitchy.

I hate dirty ugly shoes, dont wear any tomorrow okay?

Alright, those are all of the things that I remember saying but the vodka often fogs my memory.

This all could have been avoided if I stuck to the 3 drinks I claimed I would drink on twitter.