I want to write but there's just so much...

I've been getting steadily fucked up for about 11 days now, as Frogs indicated. On Friday night, my brother turned to D. and me at a party one of our friend's threw and asked, "Do you know what this? It's the waiting room for Betty Ford."

As we looked through the haze of smoke coming from cigarettes, bowls and dugouts, and assessed the boozers the gamblers, the doped up valium users, blow fiends and the ecstacy rollers, D. responded, "Yes, but who is going to be called first?"

We've all always partied a lot but I feel like before it was okay to stop and sleep. It doesn't feel like that anymore. It feels like if we stop, we may come back together missing someone else. At least that's how I feel.

I am afraid to sleep or go home or to leave anyone. I slept in an ottoman Friday and Saturday nights in a friend's apartment because that's where I stopped to sit down after the sun came up and I couldn't dance anymore.

On Sunday, I left his apartment around 10:30am (for those of you counting that's 4 hours of sleep and it was the same the night before) and went back to my oldest friend's place, watched a movie and then motivated to go out again. He was afraid to leave his apartment alone due to the excessive noise we had made through 6AM that morning, so I went back to his apartment, picked him up and brought him back out.

Here's another thing, I'm not sure if it's because of Sept. 11 or because I am at a point in my life but I am suddenly experiencing this feeling of wanting a boyfriend, which is so unlike me.

I also want to get married. I want china. And place settings. Glass bowls. I want a place to call home and someone to go to sleep with at night, preferably not fully dressed in an ottoman. I want someone I can wink at in a bar and sneak out with for an hour for a quickie.

My life is a mess. What am I doing? Where am I going? I know everyone in our group is feeling something along these lines and I guess it feels better to be with them.

Marriages are suffering. Some of us are re-evaluating careers, living situations, relationships, life.

I'm re-evaluating it all. Myself, my life, this mess I have created for myself.

I'm not a wallower. It's not in my genetic make-up. So today, while I launched my demons after 11 days of non-stop partying, I sat quietly with my head in my hands and then I looked up at my friend D. and said, "That's it. I'm going to pull myself up by my boot straps and keep going."

I'm going to cut down on carbs and drink a ton of water and get healthy. I'm going to get out of debt. I'm going to call myself out of the game for a couple of weeks and dry out.

I'm going to get this fucking book together. I'm going to write something and shop it around.

I'm not going to feel bad about having a good time. I'm not going to beat myself up about the fact that as D. said, I'm just a good time girl.

I can be a good time girl with order and sanity. I can be an adult. I can make this happen.

I can make this happen. I can find and actualize my personal legend.

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