Week of Disappointments

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Every time I chastise myself for going on that god-awful boat it’s with an 80% self conviction, accepting as fact that I’m as easily influenced as Mr. Potato Head play-doh in a chubby kid’s hand. There I was chilled on the upper deck of the dirty thing because the upper deck is where the socialites and people just not having fun for an assortment of reasons; mine being self disgust with my lack of backbone. And here's the thing - I offered to buy the bloody ticket, ya know, support the venture. But nooooo: “Yuh hafta come tuh make up numbers!” Then I squander a good eight to eleven minutes obsessing on whether my presence would indeed count, would I be missed? You don’t want to know the abyss of doubt and self degradation this spiraled in to.

Wore black spiky things to the “Rave” party on Saturday: sigh of disappointment. The concept of rave here, as I’ve been duped elsewhere, is the Alternative music played on 95.1FM (bless their heart) but I swear! Alternative, Dance, Reggaeton, anything but dub and soca, if you call it as it is people will still show up… for the free drinks anyway.
‘Free drinks from 2:00AM to 2.30AM’, exactly what brand of bull is this? How much beer, cheap rum and coke and tequila can any rational person chug in half hour? Mas importante, it wholly does not complement my ‘enter free before 10:30’ credo as I’m bound to be too wasted to reckon its 2am at 2am. Even if I did, it’s me and all the other girls-on-a-budget trying to get to the bar without making it completely obvious we’re trying to get to the bar.

Pblished in ETNT Weekly. Bleh