WHAT HAPPENS WHEN A DISASTER DECIDES TO KICK SOME ORGANIC GRAIN FREE DAIRY FREE SUGAR FREE LEGUME FREE ASS


Yep, I’ve done it. I’ve jumped on the bandwagon with housewives and wellness gurus and all types of white women and gays everywhere: I am doing #Whole30.
No, it’s not ironic! This is real. This is me. I am pursuing #mindfulness through #food in a #meaningful way because my mental and physical health are a teeter-totter and I need to grab life by the BALLS* and get my shit together.

*grass fed meatballs in a homemade marinara sauce over a cauliflower purée 

So basically #Whole30 is a diet that’s supposed to help you reset your system, jumpstart your metabolism, form good habits and figure out why you feel like shit all the time by omitting grains, legumes, dairy, added sugars, alcohol and pretty much all processed foods from your diet for 30 days. 

I am on Day 4. So far this is child’s play. In about 2 weeks I’m sure I’ll be bursting into tears every time I walk by a Popeye’s but for now, I feel great. Ok, maybe not great, just like, fine. 

Observations thus far:

-Salt is the most important food ingredient there is. A vegetable without salt is a thing you should get away from me.

-Nuts are filling but, depending on the kind, they either taste like crayons or little pieces of wood. 

-Raisins: not so bad 

-EVERYTHING seems to have added sugar, even stuff that doesn’t need sugar. I tried to buy sausage at the grocery store yesterday and it had fucking corn syrup in it. Reading ingredients can be truly eye opening.

-Ghee aka clarified butter is my shit. I don’t know how they make it or why it’s ok to eat on #whole30 or why it costs $14 a jar, but it’s delicious. 

-Most of the things I truly love eating are actually good for you, I just usually buy trash food because it’s cheap. For example, olives are a way more delicious snack than potato chips hands down. I’ll have 4 olives and be like *kisses fingers in an Italian way that’s probably offensive to actually do idk*

Now, my resolve hasn’t really been put to the test, so I’m not on a high horse or anything. I haven’t yet experienced a weekend, which is usually when I eat 10 burritos and a block of cheese, so that’ll probably feel less fun. As far as the not drinking thing goes, well, you know how much I love alcohol. And I still do. We’d just been spending so much time together and it was getting a little bit too serious so it’s good to take a break. Because then we can miss each other. And have makeup sex. What was I talking about again? 

Anyway, I’m entertaining this philosophy that consuming food and drink should be pleasurable before, during and AFTER the experience, and trying to find pride and power in how I treat my body. 

Doesn’t that sound so good? Aren’t you totally rooting for me? Isn’t it weird that in this very blog if you go back 4 years you’ll find a post where I take acid and eat an entire bag of Martin’s Potato Rolls? Life can be so unpredictable.

#Whole30 #Whole30 #Whole30

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10 Little Decisions That Changed My Life in 2014

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December: a time for self reflection

A wise person once said, “You should only take advice from someone who has made plenty of mistakes.” Actually, I just made that up. But it sounds right, doesn’t it?

One weekend in November my dad came to town and I got to spend some much needed time reconnecting with him and with my brother, who, interestingly in its own right, had just returned from touring with Macy Gray. We mostly did a lot of talking – about art, about music, comedy, parenthood, love, work, and following our dreams. My father, who turned 66 in July, has certainly led a life not lacking in transformations. I feel like every time we see one another he’s reinventing himself in some way. It’s a comforting reminder that we’re not bound, at any age, to our bad habits, or to things that are familiar.

Most of us spend this last month of 2014 contemplating our own change. Our dissatisfaction flirts with our ambition and the result is a list of “do-betters” that we may or may not keep in mind for more than a day. Most of the time our desired transformations are too grand to distill down to a simple resolution we can actually keep. I’ve found it helps to start with the details, the things we can actually change, and then work backwards.

Because the hardest things for me lately have been the little things, I wanted to share some small changes I made in my daily life this year that brought me just a few steps closer to sanity. Even if they can’t fix any of your real problems, maybe they’ll help you along the way.

1. Buying a Professional Hair Dryer
Beauty isn’t everything. I think we can all agree on that. But I decided if I’m going to care at all about the way I look then I’m going to invest in it. Since I’ve been cursed (just kidding!) with having a lot of hairdresser friends, I never hear the end of their hair-related advice. I don’t trust everyone, but I do trust my bestie-in-law Hannah who basically forced me to drop my secondhand blow dryer and pick up a legitimate one. I have the Rusk CTC 7500 which costs about $100. It’s cut down my styling time substantially, and thus the amount of time I spend sitting in front of the mirror every morning hating my hair and willing it to speed-grow. Note: Rusk is not paying me to endorse their products, I’m doing it out of the kindness of my heart. I’ve been trying to get Hannah to start a beauty blog so she can recommend all her favorite things. Everybody should post on her Facebook and convince her to do it. She’ll get more free products than she’ll know what to do with, and then maybe she’ll give some to me!

2. Making a Bedroom Embargo
You can always tell how I’m doing psychologically by what’s on top of or next to my bed. On any given day in 2012, for example, it was empty wine bottles, dirty plates, multiple kinds of hot sauce, and Lawry’s seasoning salt. I slept on unmade sheets and curved my body around my laptop, which almost never left my side. This was just how I lived, all throughout college and up until about six months ago, and I was low-key miserable the whole time. I loathed having crumbs in my bed, and staring at a computer screen until I couldn’t keep my eyes open made it harder to fall asleep – that is, if I even chose to try. More often than not I would slip into a social media k-hole until the wee hours of the night, and my sleepiness would be mistaken for depression and madness. I’d entertain my most insecure thoughts until 3 in the morning, and the next day I’d wake up in a pile of magazines and empty Dorito bags, just as tired as the night before. When I moved to my Ridgewood apartment in April of this year, I made a rule: no food and no computer in the bedroom, ever. It works because my bedroom is so far away from my Internet router that I barely even get wifi in there. And it’s made a huge difference. My mind has a chance to rest, and my eyes have a chance to adjust to darkness before I go to sleep so I’m not lying there for hours with the afterimage of my Twitter feed projected on my eyelids. And no food means no crumbs, no garbage, and no extreme self loathing after the fact. I also always wear slippers around the house now. If you have pets, it’s the only way to keep their nastiness out of your sheets. Bless their disgusting little hearts.

3. Forming a Cleaning Obsession

mesy roomMy bedroom in 2013

Unless yours is a neighborhood I could only afford in my wildest fever dreams,living in New York is pretty much disgusting. Gross strangers are everywhere and some of them will even touch you unprovoked. Every so often, rats will crawl over your feet to scurry towards their next meal, aka the lovely bags of garbage so adorably piled five feet high against the tree outside your building. Urine is on literally every surface. Any human that can operate in this world on a daily basis and then come home and be perfectly content with, I don’t know, a kitchen sink full of scraps of food and trash, has a tolerance for nastiness rivaling that of  the opossum itself. In the past, very regular drinking followed by depression had created a cycle of lethargy that had allowed me to live with messes. I would use my unmade bedsheets, sprinkles of kitty litter, and piles of clothes and books and dishes as the abstract expression of my psyche. I never felt comfort in this disarray, I just didn’t have the wherewithal to control it. I remember, even before I was  a hungover 20-something, I would stand in my teenage bedroom staring at my mess and end up feeling so overwhelmed by the wreckage that I’d just waste time whining uncontrollably. As a Virgo, I require organization in order to function. Perhaps it was my Pisces moon that would make me feel so sorry for myself that I couldn’t even address the problem at all. Well, such is no longer the case. It’s not perfect, but my house is set up so that everything has its own place. I bought all the necessary tools and devised a system. Dishes are done right after dinner, counters are cleaned once a day, sweeping is done as necessary in addition to a weekly full clean of the floors (sweep, swiffer, dust-bust, spot wipe). The bathroom gets a full wipe down once a week. I make my bed every single day. I Lysol wipe my trash can.Most importantly, I clean as I go. This is not a joke – this is what it takes for me to feel like a human being. And it works. If you value yourself, you should value the space you live in and treat it accordingly, don’t you think? It doesn’t have to look like Apartment Therapy is coming to take your picture any minute now, but like, don’t leave a banana peel in your bedroom trashcan for two weeks. Trust me, it makes a difference.

4. Giving Things Away
One of the things I had to learn in order to keep a clean house is how to part with the unnecessary items cluttering up my space. I live in an old apartment with exactly one closet. It’s in the kitchen. I keep my trash bins in there. I have quite a bit of space in comparison to many other New York apartments, it’s just that everything is out in the open. Add a live-in boo to the mix and I really had no excuse to hang on to those dresses I hadn’t worn in two summers, those purses I hadn’t carried since the second I got my hands on a vintage Coach, and that puffy vest from the 80s with the broken zipper that had a lot of sentimental value from the Winter of  ’07-’08 but is certainly well memorialized in pictures by now. Luckily, my friends over at North York Creative held a perfectly timed vintage bazaar of sorts last month, to which I donated a mountain of gently used items. Still, I barely even scratched the surface of my hoarding problem. I still have a long way to go, but I don’t want to throw away too much just yet. I recently figured out how to use Etsy so it’s really only a matter of time before I become the next Sophia Amoruso. Right?

5. One Word: Roku
Two words: Gilmore Girls. Three words: Man vs. Food. I could go on and on about this one. I’ve always been an avid Netflix and Hulu user, but take my dad’s old TV and a couch from my mom and the Roku Austin brought with him when he moved in and now I have a full-on common area and entertainment center where I can bask in the joys of early 2000s WB shows. Those of you who used to read this blog for the hilarious drug-fueled antics and are wondering what happened to my Crazy Clubbin’ Lifestyle, well, this is it. Also I had a full time job for a while and a boyfriend and…you know what, I don’t have to explain myself to you! This is just what I’m into now, okay? Grow up.

6. Getting a Desk
If you think you can lie completely horizontal on the couch with the TV on and a pillow behind your head and your laptop on your thighs and actually get shit done, you can’t. You are lying to yourself. Well, that’s not entirely true, but it does take a whooole lot longer. Case in point: I tried to address and personalize 75 Christmas cards last week while sitting at my coffee table watching Rory stumble through her first few weeks at Yale and it took me EIGHT HOURS to complete them. That doesn’t even make any sense! Except when you consider that I was paying probably 3/4 of my attention the show and 1/4 to the cards, and had I actually been focusing and sitting upright in a well lighted area I could have gotten them done in two hours, tops. This is what the desk is for. I can’t say I use it all the time (right now it’s covered in piles of wrapping paper and dollar store bags) but I will say, when I need to bang out a little something on the laptop it is absolutely essential to my workflow (and I just said “workflow,” so you know I mean business). This new desk was actually another hand-me-down from my brother Winston. I guess the moral of the story here, really, is stay in good with your family and eventually they will probably give you free stuff.

7. Cooking My Own Food
Let me start by saying that this is not a weight loss tip. It certainly can be – if I went to Trader Joe’s and only bought fruits and veggies and nuts and quinoa, never ordered takeout and brought my lunch to work every day I would be a skinny lady, although probably pissy and extremely bored. I envy anyone who can shove a handful of raisins in their mouth and be like “DAMN I am so full and satisfied! I’ll wait 4 hours until dinner, go home, steam some cauliflower and call it a day!” But nah. This is about being in control of what’s going in your body. I love comfort food of all types. Does it make me feel good to spend $20 and have some fried chicken with three sides delivered to my house sometimes? Yes. But it makes me (and my bank account) feel even better to figure out how fried chicken is made and to do it myself. Not every day, of course. That shit is time consuming! But there are plenty of simple ways to prepare hearty, dank-ass foods for yourself in a reasonable time frame. I haven’t had a microwave in three years, but once I learned how to use my oven, I didn’t even need or want one. Buy a couple decent pans at Deals for cheap. Go to the store and get $30 of basic groceries to last you about two weeks (veggies, a grain, some meat, garlic, olive oil, seasoning). It beats the hell out of spending $100 a week ordering food, and the act of preparing it can even help ease the stress of your day. Plus, cooking a delicious meal does incredible things for your ego. After some practice, you’ll be able to make from-scratch cookies that impress your boyfriend’s parents (“I’m domestic and creative! Approve of me!”) and maybe even come up with your own next-level recipes that put a takeout box to shame.

IMG_0522I really did make my own fried chicken

8. Drinking More Water
I was doing really well with this earlier in the year and it made a huge difference in my energy level, my mood, my skin,and my health in general. I’m currently recovering from a holiday week that consisted of mostly vodka, which is no doubt at least partly to blame for the cold/flu/bronchitis/sinus infection something-or-other I’ve been battling for the last five days. I’m feeling pretty fatigued and disgusting right now, and my vocal cords are in the morgue. So, I’m gonna drink about six glasses of water and see if it helps. If that doesn’t work, I’ll go back to sleep. Ok, let’s make this a two parter. Number 8. Water and Sleep.

9. Staying in Touch

IMG_2730A little holiday card goes a long way

This one is so, so important. In every facet of life – work, family or friends – just checking in from time to time will take you a long way. Parents deserve it because they raised you and you are an ungrateful little shit. Also, they give pretty good advice. The people you’ve worked with in the past have met new people who could give you a jumpstart on your career, but not if you never email them. And, sad to say it, but from the moment you graduate college, making friends only gets harder. Lives get more complicated, hanging out gets a little more difficult to arrange. But if someone is important to you, shouldn’t they know it? Even if it’s just a little text from time to time, or jesus, even a snapchat. If  you wanna feel really good about yourself, send a handwritten letter. When I was a little kid, my dad would point at my toothbrush every night and say “brush the ones you wanna keep!” I’ve decided to apply this logic to people in my life. “Call the ones you wanna keep.” Seems like a foolproof plan.

10. Following Those Dreams, One Step at a Time
Figuring out who you want to be is hard. When I started college, I knew I wanted to write. Having gotten some subpar grades my freshman year, I didn’t have a GPA quite high enough to be accepted into the Journalism school. I didn’t know I was interested in film or TV until my then-new friend Alex encouraged me to pursue the Media Studies major. Even after three years of study, I still didn’t know I was interested in comedy until after graduation, when I was lying depressed on the couch for the tenth day in a row and it dawned on me that I’d really enjoy making one of those shows I’d been binge watching. It took me more than six months after that to move to New York, almost a whole year after that to get my first paying job in TV, and another year after that to start taking improv and sketch writing classes in my spare time. It’s definitely been a push and pull. I hear the same thing from everyone I know who is an aspiring entertainment creative. Sometimes it feels like for every two steps forward you have to take three steps back. Trying to make a buck and follow your dreams at the same time can seem like an impossible feat. I know it feels that way for me right now. But I just have to keep going. If that means writing scripts on the weekend, blogging on the subway, taking improv classes at night and reading, watching and going to see new material and acts whenever I get a free moment, then that’s what I gotta do. 2014 wasn’t the best year ever, but it wasn’t a waste, either. Clearing the cobwebs from a lifestyle cluttered with irresponsible decisions and, well, physical mess, has helped me identify the bigger steps I need to take towards my goals and create a plan to do it. And in the process I learned some important lessons.

Believe in yourself. Respect your space. Invest in your happiness. And don’t underestimate the value of taking time to get your shit together.

Renaissance or Something

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I fired my therapist. She deserved it. I had originally hired her to help me through some of the stresses of moving to a new city, spending most of my time by myself, deciding the next move in my career, coming to terms with the way my upbringing has affected my relationships, you know, the usual shit. Once a week I would show up and crack my knuckles, excited to plow through these issues and move on with my life. She’d greet me in the waiting room with a meek, insincere half-smile. “How are you?” I’d ask her casually, to which she’d always respond “I’m okay.” Then she’d sit in silence and bored disapproval while I frowned out the window at the Empire State Building and psychoanalyzed myself. Sometimes I’d pause and look her way, inviting participation. She’d lift her chin abruptly as if startled from sleep, raise her eyebrows and make some empty comment like “you should do something about that.” I always left feeling very annoyed and slightly sorry for her. Was I the only person who could manage to pick a therapist more depressed than I was?

You all know that since the beginning of August I have singlehandedly held down New York for Team Big Things, getting by on my own with the help of the internet and the 4 friends I’ve made since I moved here. Much of TBT will be moving to Brooklyn in as soon as two weeks, and I am overcome with relief. I don’t even think I will realize how much it sucked to be here without them until I finally have them back. It’s texts like these that prove I will one day be back to norm again.
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For a while I played with the idea of meeting some people on the internet, which was a bust for the most part. A few months back I made a fun OkCupid profile as a joke. I often make joke profiles on social networks I think might be dumb out of curiosity. This would explain how I got stuck with “ButtButt” as a foursquare name, “Catdookie” on instagram, and “Slutz[underscore]Taco” on OkCupid. Turns out people don’t think you are joking when you call yourself a Slutz_Taco on a dating website. They truly think you will sleep with them even if they look like a sea monster made of turds and use pick up lines like these:
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God bless these fools. Nevertheless, I could not shake my desire for new mans. And attention in general, really.

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In a dramatic turn of events, it was the dumbness of the internet that eventually brought me together with a boothang. Snapchat, specifically. Have you ever snapchatted your phone number to someone in the middle of the night? If you haven’t, it is a great way to start a romantic rendezvous with your celebrity crush. I give it 5 out of 5 stars.

If you live in New York (and maybe even if you don’t, but I can’t say for sure), you’ve probably realized that A LOT of people have been getting sick with colds and haven’t been able to shake them for up to two fucking months. I’m not saying it’s a government conspiracy (CHEMTRAILS) but it has definitely affected me quite a bit and that has definitely sucked.
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^Here is a picture of me with a 102 degree fever after I sleepwalked to the corner store and bought a shit ton of cereal.
I’ve been to the doctor 3 times in the last month and in the meantime I have been slacking on all my other appointments. My cats are due for a teeth cleaning (do other people do this?) and it’s been so long since I’ve gotten brazilian that I’m positive my Bikini Artist is going to laugh in my face the next time I hit the spa.

When I’m NOT texting my new boo and nursing an illness sometimes I go out to public locations and alter my mind. I’m not sure what actually happens at these functions besides taking selfies but what else am I trying to do really?
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It should also be mentioned that I quit my job at the salon to start working on a TV show. Before I started this new “gig” I had the privilege of dipping down to North Carolina for a bit of fun, the photos of which I will unload later. It’s too much glamour and beauty and suburbia for this particular post.

WHILE I WAS GONE it brightened up substantially around the city and I have been loving it. Honestly if you would just follow me on instagram @catdookie I wouldn’t have to repost these here and it would be far more convenient for me overall.
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Cute, right? Now that winter is officially over and life officially no longer sucks, I’ve rediscovered the fun of walking around the city aimlessly. Also I think Jadakiss lives in my neighborhood.
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My new job is fabulous and great and everything you’d expect. I even made a new BEST FRIEND to add to the collection. It really helps to have a person around for moral support while you’re ruining your manicure and eating far too much craft services. I’m not sure how long this particular job will last because the end of the season is near, so I gotta get in as much free food as possible before then. IMG_8121 IMG_7897
I actually think I may be physically addicted to terrible food at this point. My hours at work are so crazy that I don’t really have the time (or fucks) for grocery shopping, so GrubHub is essentially my livelihood. The other day I ate no less than four kinds of fried seafood out of a cardboard box, and last week I ordered Chinese THREE times, one of which was just after I had finished eating Chinese. I never regret it until I step out of bed the next morning into a pile of empty takeout boxes. Then I feel just a bit gross.

Late hours do work well, though, with the fact that I like to stay up until 5 am playing with my hair (or having sex). Hannah got a job at a new salon where she gave me a brand new cut and color, and helped me style my fun new clip-in extensions.
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If you live in the city you should definitely check out Foster Glorioso at 5 East 19th Street. It’s super gorgeous and beyond chill. Plus they have wine!
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^Here we are on our way to the FIRST bachelorette party I’d ever been to. Our friend Lisa celebrated the end of her freedom and I spent all of my fucking money on male strippers! It was fun, but they should have been tipping MY ass…like, do you even see this weave? (Truly I’m kidding, these extensions were cheap as hell and take forever to put in, so mostly I’ve been rocking my new REAL hair a la Uma in Pulp Fiction on a good day. Still though.)

Yyyyeah, I’m still broke, I’m still crazy, and I still have a dead rat in my backyard (in case you were wondering). But I have a new job and new look so like, move over. ‘Cause this is a competition, and I am here 2 win.

Do y’all ever feel like a plastic bag?

It was well into the evening on Monday when I finally set foot outside, confronting the strangeness of waking up after sleeping for 24 hours; after spending the twelve hours before that squeezing every last drop of serotonin from my brain; after spouting every last detail of my life story to a group of attentive, similarly altered listeners; after drink after drink after drink….

Everything seemed completely brand new, and not in the best of ways. Patrick had left the city the previous day while I was wallowing in my wreck of a room trying to invent a home remedy for insomnia. I didn’t know if it was the fact that summer had started to slip away, but the air smelled completely different. It smelled kinda like…fucks.

Oh, blah blah blah. We’ve all been here before, right? In that place where the party lasted too long (or ended too soon), the period of recovery has long outstayed its welcome and you’re still sitting there, a self-indulgent lame duck. But this, sans tea or shade, isn’t “Amphetamine Logic.” I don’t find these feelings remotely glamorous. I see no reason to give in to the bullshit of ~taking life seriously~,  mistaking the emotional repercussions of a long night for some epiphany on the ultimate truth of loneliness and failure. Ya just did too much drugs.

The thoughts of a fucked up person always sound so true and interesting because they’re always face to face with their mortality. Or maybe they think they are? Something about a death instinct and weakening life instincts which you can read about in superstar drug blogger Cat Marnell’s articles here, or here, or everywhere.

BUT if you, like me, have the luxury of not being a total addict and just want to have some fun, try to remember you ARE NOT GOING TO DIE AND/OR FAIL AT LIFE AND/OR WASTE AWAY WITH NO TRUE FRIENDS THAT REALLY GET U

You are young, you are not dead, everything is going to be fine.

Here are all the things you need to successfully cure a really shitty comedown. 

Water: You forget you need this, but you do. Like, really do. Imagine running a marathon and then guzzling a big ole jug of ocean water. That’s what partying does to your body. You might not feel like it and it might really suck but it’s AMAZING what throwing back three or four tall glasses of water can do to your morale. Helpful tip, if you have a headache or stomachache or just don’t feel thirsty, water at room temperature is a lot easier to drink than the cold stuff. Camelbacks are also good because by this time you will have regressed to a child-like state and won’t mind sucking a nipple.

Vitamins: There’s this crazy shit you can buy at the drug store called 5HTP that helps replenish some of the great stuff that great drugs suck out of your brain and body (like our beloved serotonin). It also makes you sleepy, which is going to be really helpful in your shitty state. But without getting into a bunch of science or whatever, there are other super normal things you can take like vitamin C and B complex (I actually read somewhere that if you take B12 the night you go out drinking it keeps you from having a hangover. But I’m not a doctor or anything). I have been known to take like 4 packs of Emergen-C which has a whole bunch of different shit in it and is also a good way to convince myself to drink water.

Marijuana: I don’t remember the last time I bought weed which is totally shameful. I actually spent most of the summer so un-stoned that I’d forgotten how great of a remedy it can be for most things.

Sleep: You will not feel normal again until you do this. In my case I had to take a promethazine and do it for about a day. Actually I’ve come to realize that most of my problems, party-related or not, have to do with being tired. Tiredness just makes you so annoyingly serious and who has time for that?

Get OUT of the house: Go for a walk. Get your blood flowing. Maybe even  get some food. See something other than the room where up until five minutes ago you were sure you were going to die.

Exercise, even if slightly: Stretching is a good way to cheat on this one. Stretching is the bomb.

Socialize: This one is about getting over yourself and realizing your problems are not that serious. Having a chat with someone other than your cat will make you feel less crazy and help you gain perspective. You’ll remember who you used to be before this nightmare.

and last but not least, Create limits for yourself: You need to know when enough is enough (in my experience this is somewhere between slightly more than enough and not quite too much). Nobody wants to come visit you in a hospital or look at your broken capillaries or have you ruin everything by dying. Let’s not lose any more good people. Things you will never see me do include crack, heroin, meth, and PCP (sorry Cat, u do u). I am also not super “into pills” or what have you because that just seems so ’08, and you should NEVER exchange sex for drugs (or vice versa, you creep). I’m not going to wag my finger at you if you flirt with guys so they buy you drinks. Who doesn’t do that? (Well, I don’t usually because I have a very narrow, almost invisible window between wanting to stab a guy in the face and actually liking them. By the time I figure out which one, the ‘pretending’ ship has sailed far, far away). I’m JUST saying that if you want your morning-afters to get any easier, think about the things you felt guilty about last time. Maybe you feel like an idiot for letting that guy suck your tit in exchange for a bump of coke because you were kind of being a huge idiot. But don’t be too hard on yourself. Some things, like bouncing around scantily clad and talking incessant nonsense to a group of ogling guys for four hours, should be met with a quick self deprecating eye-roll. If you do find yourself sitting around biting your nails trying to remember all the ridiculous things you said and thinking “they probably thought I was so stupid and selfish and slutty!” just remember that,

-If they did, so what?

-They were really fucked up too and probably more focused on trying to sleep with you.

-Stupid, selfish and slutty might be the look.

nuttin but a hairflip.
xx,
Kat