Running away

So I moved out of colorado guy's place. I figured I better get out before I get too attached. After our little fight the other night he started talking about his feelings for me and I think maybe I freaked out a bit. In true sadsociopath fashion I ran away. I'm really regretting it I think. I feel sad and alone. I want to go back but then I feel like I'm being weak-I dunno. Plus living out of hotels is so expensive, I was saving so much money living there for free.

On another note I talked to the ex today and he was pretty upset because he found out his ex (the one he left me for) is getting married in a few months. I do feel bad for him. I know he really loves her and it must be crushing to watch the person you loved and we with get married to someone else. It must make you wonder what was so wrong with you that they didn't want to marry you. Oh well.

I'm in a hotel room right now, it's pretty nice. I miss the boy a lot but I do appreciate the real bed, cable TV and strong internet connection.

%#$^@*

So we got into our first fight. Well, not really. I got upset at him for the first time is more like it. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

I can't wait to travel this May. I'm getting pretty sick of Boulder already. At least the weather's been nice.

I'm sort of oddly upset that I'm not working, pathetic, I know. I wish money wasn't the fuel that drives me. Damn my materialistic nature!

Time for a drink!

My new life-sort of

So I'm in Colorado right now-and have been for the past month. I'm living with a guy that I was renting a room from. I'm no longer paying rent, which is nice. I guess we're kind of dating. I mean, we're fucking and we spend 80% of our time together, but it's only temporary. Colorado is alright... Not somewhere I'd want to live.

I did get a job at a strip club here, but I decided not to work. The club seemed weird and oddly pretentious. They had a pretty strict dress code for the dancers and the manager/owner kept stressing how they try to keep it a 'classy' club. I was just like get over yourselves, it's a fucking strip club-we grind dick for money-it's not classy. Plus I didn't want to buy a bunch of new non-strippery outfits.

I'm still drinking pretty heavily. One thing I like about this guy is that he drinks with me. It's fun to be able to drink with the guy you're dating. He also doesn't talk about philosophy and spirituality non-stop.

I did call the ex the other night. I was a bit drunk and me and my (roommate, fuckbuddy, boyfriend, whatever) had gotten into a bit of a fight so I decided I was going to go out and party. Well, I still don't know my way around very well so I ended up in a parking lot of a shopping center. I decided to call the ex to get some perspective on men because I don't really get them. We talked for a bit and I realized that my feelings for the ex have completely evaporated. Yay for that.

I just paid my taxes, and that's always a bit painful. Happy birthday Uncle Sam.

Far away

So I'm living 1,500 miles away from Atlanta. Pretty sweet. I haven't started working yet and I'm living in hotels at the moment. There are tons of hippies here; hippies are a group that I love to hate (but really just love), because I'm such a not-hippie.

drugs, drugs, drugs

So I just did a few bumps of coke that I've had laying around for the past few days. Funny story on how I got it. I was at work on Wednesday night sitting at a table talking with two customers. My customer gets up to go the bathroom and this girl I work with but don't really talk to comes and sits down next to me. She makes some small talk with the other customer and then turns to me and asks me if I party. I replied with the ever-so-smooth "uh, sure...if it's free" then she proceeds to slip me a baggie of coke (prob ~3/4 gram) saying that it's really good but she's done too much and is really fucked up. She tells me I should go do it, but I decide to stash it in my bag and save it for later. I was going to do it last night before a dance/rave party sort of thing I was going to but I ended up doing MDA instead.

MDA, meh. I had never done it before, but have done molly (MDMA) a few times. My friend and I decided to snort it because it looked like coke and I like snorting shit. Well that was mistake number one. That shit burns like a motherfucker. Burned worse than coke, molly, meth, adderall (which doesn't burn at all and tastes delicious), we were in tears on the ground. Then once it starts to drip the taste is just foul. Mistake number two was doing it out on my kitchen counter. At the time my roommate wasn't home and we figured he wouldn't be coming back for a while so what the hell. Well after line number one we're in the bathroom crying about the burn when all of a sudden in walks the roommate. About two feet in front of his eye (he was with a friend) are a bunch of lines on the counter, complete with rolled up dollar bills and little dime bags to match. Great, now my roommate thinks I'm a fucking drug addict which is not the case. My friend and I are in the bathroom cracking up because for some reason my roommate busting in on us doing drugs is hilarious to us at the time. He retreats to his room with his friend pretty quickly and we have no other choice but to go back and finish out shit. More incredibly painful burning (at one point my friend said she didn't even want to finish it because it hurt so bad) and we were done. I started feeling it only a few minutes afterwards but the high wasn't what I was expecting. It was a speedy yet happy high, somewhere between coke and meth I guess. I wanted to get leaving for the club quickly before my high got worse or disappeared. Well that was nothing to worry about because my noticable high only lasted about 20 minutes and was hardly evident by the time we got to our destination. Once inside I did notice that lights and discoballs looked a bit cooler than usual, and I may have felt a bit more confident than I usually feel, but it was nothing spectacular. My friend seemed to enjoy it and seemed a bit annoyed that I didn't love it. I noticed that she seems to prefer more chill drugs (weed, molly, shrooms), while I definitely have an affinity for speedier stuff (coke, meth) especially when mixed with opiates (oxy preferably) or alcohol. I guess it's just a brain chemistry thing. We met some boys at the club and of course they needed a ride home so I drove them back to their place. They lived in a dorm room and my friend wanted to chill there for a bit so I figured why not. I drank a little there (along with the one drink I had towards the end of the night at the club) which made things a bit better. We ended up going to chatroulette to try and see how many guys we could get to masturbate and come on the camera for us. After the did the guys we were with would all jump into view and give the thumbs up sign. Pretty immature and entertaining. We left around 9:00 this morning after my friend went off with one of the dudes to participate in some questionable activities. I slept from about 10:00 till 3:30. I can't seem to get tired tonight. That's why I figured I'd do a little of my coke, if I'm going to be awake I might as well be really awake and in a good mood. I'm saving the rest for another party night or work. Whichever comes first.

Speaking of work, I'm moving in less than a week so I'm not going to be seeing much more of the club. This is more depressing to me than I expected. Everything seems better when you're remembering it and not actually doing it.

L and I got into sort of fight the other night. We're so weird. He texted me last weekend asking what I was going to be doing for my last weekend here. Now generally when someone texts you something like that it means that they're trying to hang out with you, or at least I would assume. Especially since we don't really talk very often. So I answer back how I'll probably be packing but I don't really have any finite plans. No response...Maybe he was mad because he invited me to dinner the other night and I declined? I have no idea. So then this Monday I decided to down a half bottle of vodka and get a bit trashed. Around 11:45 or so I emailed L informing him that I was drunk and that we should hangout before I leave. I tell him about the party my friend and I are going to on Thursday and invite him to come. For some reason he responds by telling me that he's free on Tues and Thurs and then adds in his activities he has planned for the rest of the week even though it's pretty irrelevant to me. Well one of those activities is a somewhat girly movie he's seeing on Friday which pretty much means date for him because he doesn't generally go see movies unless he's trying to get laid. Same thing with alcohol. For some reason (me being drunk) I get annoyed by this and tell him that I don't want to sleep with him if he's fucking other girls and go on about how I'm 11 years younger than him and have plenty of other options that aren't fucking around. It was a pretty inappropriate response on my part and in a sober state I see that but I was being a dramatic drunk girl. He responds by acting surprised that I prefer monogamy; something along the lines of 'a monogamous alcoholic stripper who believes we're constituted of nothing more than blobs of cells, do you actively try to not make any sense' Like my profession has anything to do with my sex preferences. Dick. Then, still drunk I go on a rant about men and how gross they are and point out that he was the one who initiated sex with me (when we lived together) and pointed out some lies that I had picked up on in the past but never pointed out. It was a pretty vitrolic email and I didn't get or expect to get a response. At this point I'm done contacting him. If he contacts me again (I put money on it he will) he better have some very important and nice things to say or I'm over it.

I pretty much just wrote the longest post ever (thanks cocaine!), sorry about that.

Ice

Oh Valentine's day, where do I even begin.

The club was dead when I got there. We only had 16 girls, though.

My first dance of the night was for a guy who is probably in Afghanistan by now. He was a cutie.

When I was on stage some asian dude came and tipped me big and he was at a high top so I went over there after my set. He was there with a friend from out of state and they seemed to be cool with spending money. I did a few dances for the guy and he handed me a $100 and didn't ask for change. Nice. I chilled with them and danced on and off for about an hour when one of the waitresses tells me that a guy in the upstairs vip wants some dances. Now the upstairs vip overlooks the whole club, so you can see everyone below when you're up there. It was scarface asian and some of his buddies. I've danced for him before and he's cool so off I went.

When I got up there I danced a bit for scarface and then he bought a dance for his friend, we'll call blondie. I dance for blondie who I can tell is fuuuuucked up for a few songs. At this point I'd made about $150 off them. I go downstairs for a bit to use the restroom and do a few dances. While I'm walking around I run into blondie who tells me to come back upstairs. Ok.

That's when I did something kind of bad. Blondie asks me if I party, and being in one of my 'who gives a fuck, i'm at the strip club on valentine's day' moods I ask him what he has.

"Ice," he says.

Now I'm thinking ice is crack because I obviously don't know my drug slang very well.

"Is that crack?" I ask.

"No, it's ice, you know, meth."

Fuck. Meth is one of those drugs that you say you're never going to do. It's one of those trashy fuck your life up for good drugs.

So what do I do? I try it!!!

Another example of my choice decision making skills.

Here's the worst part; it was good. Really fucking good. Best I've ever felt in my whole entire life good. Which is bad.

After that I was on fire for the rest of the night. I ended up making a bit over $600, which isn't fantastic, but I'll take it.

I get home and I still feel pretty good and oh so awake. I call my best friend to tell her what I did and she wasn't too upset. Then I went and worked out because I had soooooo much energy.

I didn't sleep for a good 40 hours. The come down was rough. You're awake, but you no longer feel good. You know you should be tired and your body needs sleep but it's not happening. But the high was good. That's why I'm not going anywhere near it ever again-I can see why people get addicted to that shit, and that's not something I need.

So that was my V. day. Spent it at a stripclub drinking and snorting meth. Classy as usual.

Publishing error

So I had typed up an entire post and when I went to publish it there was an error. Fuck that shit.

Here's the tl;dr version

Girl I wrote about here is working at my club

I'm working valentine's day because I'm single as usual. I'd rather make $600 on V. day than get some shitty chocolates and flowers

My best friend has a boyfriend which means she doesn't call or hang out because she cares about boys more than anything else in the world.

I'm moving in three weeks.