‘Twas indeed the season
As Christmas approached and left I felt like I could use it as a great excuse to be a total shit show (although in truth I’m like that all year round). Yes, I’ve been exceptionally bad recently, but let me share with you all of my actions in the hope it will make even just one person feel a tiny bit better about themselves and their behavior this season in so much that they aren’t goin to be as bad as me. This time of year is about helping others, after all. Also, it might be semi-cathartic for my well being.
I attended a book launch. As I’ve explained before, me at a book launch with a free bar is not something anyone should bear witness to. I mean, it’s not that I’m poor, and it’s not that I’m not used to free bars, because I really am. But there’s just something about a bar where you don’t have to bother getting out your card and the bar staff are hot. It generally means I will take up permanent position next to it, eventually ending on first name terms with the hot bar staff so they just begin free pouring and the next thing you know, I am beyond drunk.
I somehow managed to stumble out of there after embarrassing myself and I made it into an Uber. Here I sent 457 Snapchats plus a ton of videos to my sober friend before walking up to my house, putting the key in the lock, and then falling over. I can’t tell you what took me down, but as I laid on the hallway floor with all my stuff strewn around me I heard my housemate at the top of the stairs say “LostItGirl is that you? Are you drunk?” To which I replied whilst passed out on the hallway floor, “Nah.”
My denial while sprawled out on the hallway floor was less believable than Meghan Markle’s fit as a member of the royal family. Drunk me is amazing, sure, but I really do need to work on my lies.
I was asked to go play music at a Christmas party for a company I regularly do that kind of thing for. And so I did. Also present was a pop star, although I use that term loosely, I think he’s had a few songs in the charts if that a makes a pop star these days. We were there as the entertainment, and so it was inevitable that we would end up hanging out. And so we did. We were last seen at 3am wondering off into the night together (honestly I would NEVER have fcked him, we were just getting on and lived close by so shared an Uber) but what are people to think when they see two pissed people leave a party together? I instantly became the xmas party gossip which for me is a major win as I HATE not being talked about. It made it to Twitter and everything, which was pretty awesome.
Next, I have this thing where it takes me like a million years to like new people. I guess I’m just wary of people I don’t know, if that is it, then it’s not such a bad thing. But when I found myself with my best friend and two of her friends, I went into full asshole mode. This means I wasn’t nice, and when they began to hate me back I really cheered up, and warmed to them, sadly it was too little too late and they now just totally hate me which in turn made my friend hate me also. So now I’m a friend down, which happens. I also ruined Christmas. But then I do that every year.
On to boys and we can just do all this in one short burst, I won’t even give them nicknames, just numbers.
I sent him my breasts, he opened it straight away, waited 12 hours to reply, and told me it was “nice”. Bastard.
Didn’t send me my “Happy Xmas beautiful” text which I’ve had for four years straight. Prick.
I dumped him, and he’s now sulking and unfollowed me on social media along with a good blocking. I enjoyed.
Still has a gf but still replies to me and watches everything I do and I’m getting such a kick out of winding him up. Enjoyable.
I’m gonna ruin his life, and I feel sad because he’s actually nice so I’m really going to try not to. But it’s me, and it’s what I do. Fun.
I blame everything on Christmas, but it’s just me all year round. I’m now gearing up to fck shit up for myself and everyone around me on the new year celebrations. You’d think I’d be considering changing my ways at this time of year, but what’s the point? A leopard never changes its spots, so I don’t lie to myself.