From a personal journal entry titled, "Because I'm so goddamn wise, obviously"...
So, I did end up hanging out with the friend who blew me off the other night. We lazed around my apartment, had rum & cokes and watched some Bill Cosby stand-up from the 1980s. Good times.
Last night in my dream about the bomb, I dreamt that my friend asked me a question that he asked me that night--except this time he phrased it differently. In real life, on Monday night, at one point he asked me if I wanted to sleep with [so-and-so], to which I kind of groaned and said that things with him are complicated. (Did I mention I was drunk, and so not very good at pointing out the subtleties in people's questions--if I'd been sober, I probably would have pointed out that, as a virgin, I'm not primarily concerned with "sleeping with" anyone in particular, but much more interested in having an opportunity to be intimate and perhaps in a relationship with another.) In the dream, he asked me, "Are you in love with [so-and-so]?" And I said, "Well, yes, I guess I am, but knowing what to do with it is complicated." See the difference.
I think I must have talked a lot about [so-and-so] while drunk on Monday night. Not anything incriminating, but just funny stories and such. I have a lot of those. The thing about me being drunk is that the voice in my head keeps taking notes and making commentary--it just relinquishes its authority. I mean, hell, I'm the girl who has philosophical debates in her sleep. My "superego" is fairly well integrated with the rest of my psyche--but when we all get together (me, myself and I, that is) and decide to drink, it's a mutual decision to let the moralizing, rationalizing, analyzing part of me sit back and let things happen (kind of like putting up a camouflage blind and observing my anima in the wild), because it trusts in the rest of me to be a good person and not do anything stupid. Generally, this is works out well. I'm not the kind of person who gets drunk and does something she regrets. (I also tend to get a little more OCD, like how I kept telling my friend not to break or touch or rearrange anything--which he found quite funny.)
Anyway, now I'm exhausted. I've never been in an earthquake, but I imagine the process I went through yesterday was similar--like relearning my own internal landscape after the tectonic plates of my psyche had suddenly slipped and shifted from built up pressure. Part of me wishes something in my external circumstances had actually changed to reflect my on-going inner shifts, and one reason I'm so tired today is because yesterday was a necessary day of re-grounding, realigning and attuning the shaken-up internal landscape with unchanged external circumstances. Well, not unchanged. Slowly changing and eroding, is more like it. External change seems to be much more gradual than internal change, at least for me. Alcohol brings the two a bit closer together, mostly because it helps free up external circumstance to shift and respond more readily to the echoes of my own internal earthquakes. I think that's why people who've been drinking can go so easily from laughing to crying to mellow to horny and back again--it's not as if we're not navigating these emotional movements constantly anyway. It's just normally, we can stay grounded in a more gradual and slow-moving external reality...
Anyway, I'm going to have waffles for breakfast. And then, go to the store to get more soy milk, because I'm out.
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