being artsy is hard when you're off your fucking face
1. how fucking heavy empty boxes are. What is cardboard made of? Lead??
2. How much red wine loves you. I'm not sure why, but it does.
3. How much shit you actually own. It's a lot. Even when you think you're a cool hip minimalist. Nope, you still have heaps of shit.
4. Just which friends have always got your back.
Okay, that escalated quickly. This isn't a passive aggressive post about roommate dramas. Yet. Jokes, I doubt that'll happen. It's a post about how I love everyone in this bar.
I've got to tell you, I'm pretty drunk. Packing boxes involved so much effort and was such a bore that to cheer myself up I put on Hannah Montana in the background and drank a bottle of red. So I'm drunk, is basically what I'm getting at. Keyboards are fun when drunk, have you ever tried?
ANYWAY. What happened tonight is this: I was packing. I went and got the plastic step stool so I could reach up the top of my wardrobe and get down the dusty boxes of memories. I opened my box marked "cards". They're mainly birthday cards, but also include Christmas cards, other miscellaneous cards and even some letters. Now, I turned 23 last week (woo! go me!) so the top layer was pretty fresh. But curious me, about halfway though the bottle, dug a little deeper. And what I found was like fifteen cards/letters, all in the one handwriting.
I'm tempted to name her, but that might embarrass her. I've already sent her drunk text messages across the globe just now, which thanks to time differences she had to read on a cold Tuesday morning while she was heading to work. SORRY BABE.
Basically what I'm saying is this: when you move house, you discover old keepsakes, and remember old times, and you do the drunk cry and reconnect with someone you've lost touch with. It's a beautiful fucking moment. Even I think so, sitting on the floor in my mother's house, surrounded by boxes and random shit and birthday cards from 2002, with some glitter on the floor from the time Sabine got you back... I deserved that and yet I'm still not even sorry! I love you babe, and I'm never going to drift from you again. You're mine from now on, got it?
You were there for me when nobody else was. And just because I made new friends (some of which I don't know how I ever did without), it doesn't excuse my letting you slip away. I'm so sorry, it will never happen again. From now on, you're the one I message. Fuck time zones!!! One day we're gonna meet for real and I'm gonna give you a bottle of red and see what happens. It's gonna be epic, I can't wait.
Until then, my dear, please accept this drunken blog post and my rambling iMessages as a token of my love. You'll always be my favourite.
SIDE NOTE: I'm moving house if you didn't know!!!! So I'm gonna start blogging about life away from mother, and homewarey shit, and all that crap. I'm exited, aren't you?. Also, SIDE NOTE 2: I have been meaning to post for so long but the words are never right. Turns out all I needed to do was down a bottle of booze. DRUNK BLOGGING IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL. And it makes those wriggly red lines under misspelt words that much more useful hahahhahahaah. SIDE NOTE 3: mY boyfriend (yes I have one of those now) is hella jealous that Sabine got her own love post dedicated to her, but what can I say? CHICKS BEFORE DICKS.
xxox pls still love me i'm drunk and needy