Drive Drunk : Get Fucked.

We had a chain email going on at work.
The question: What are you afraid of?
I answered: snakes and my Achilles heel snapping and curling-omgewe.
My initial answer: jeans.

While yes, I am petrified of the first thing I said, what really makes me more anxious, nervous and scared is wearing jeans. I hate how they make me stick out in the wrong places. I hate how they are restricting. I hate how they make me feel fat.

And it is because of jeans, or well once again my eating disorder (that pesky bitch) that I got myself into a DUI battle and totaled my Subaru.
All in one go. Because, I am, an overachiever.

May 21 2011, so last summer, we all planned to meet at Golden Gardens.



I wanted to wear a tee but everyone knows you don’t wear a tee with leggings (hello ass), so I braved it and pulled on my skinny jeans.

I hadn’t even buttoned them and I was crying. I stood in front of the mirror despising what I saw. What I felt. I wanted to rip them to shreds along with my cellulite and my gigantic thighs.

As that’s impossible I settled for throwing a fit, stretching them out in the process. I wiggled and wormed, doing awkward squats (ladies you know what I mean) until they became comfortable aka unflattering and stretched out.

Realizing I was going to be late. I forced myself out the door, slamming it, angry at the world for making me so ugly and fat. I prayed slash blasted Carter III all the way to Totem Lake to my friend’s apartment.

I thought I felt better.

We arrived to a slowly setting sun and excitement that only sun in Seattle on a Saturday can bring. I hadn’t planned on drinking, but free beers were offered, and that’s all it takes for this cheap ass. I wanted to feel better about the stupid jeans and I knew the booze would do it, even if temporarily. In no time I was three deep and I was drunk.

The rest of the night was a blur of sand in places I wish it wasn’t, conversation with strangers and Sweet Tea Vodka (that in my drunken stupor I thought was mixed…I now know it’s NOT).

I got the great idea to call my recent ex…multiple times…upsetting and embarrassing myself in my almost black out state.

I don’t remember the car ride to Totem Lake from GG. I do know I didn’t drive.

I do remember coming to at about 1:00 am, still talking to my ex. We hung up. I wanted to go home and cry more. So I did. Ignoring offers to stay on the couch. I got into my car, Pearl, and drove.

That’s the last trip I’d ever make in that car.