I'm back! HOLLA!
I haven't felt very Thighs McGee lately. Not in a bad way, I just haven't thought much about writing. This is what's new:
1. My birthday party was excellent. Good times, good friends, and good Guinness. We hung out at Flannery's until about 11pm, then the Astoria crew went over to Crazy Ass for a nightcap. A three hour nightcap. I think I got home at 2:30am. It was the first time in quite a while that I drank a lot. I was a little nervous, but all was well. Too well perhaps because I haven't really stopped drinking or staying out late since then. That weekend Jarv and I barhopped around the neighborhood. This past week included staying out until 1:30am on both Wednesday and Thursday, not going out UNTIL 3am on Friday, taking a break Saturday, then drinking from noon until 8pm today. I feel fine, but Bethany Beergut is back and I'm tired. So tired. I am not drinking this week until Friday when MY BROTHER COMES TO VISIT! It's a last minute work trip. I'm so excited to see him!!
2. Work is getting better!! I wanted to get some stuff done this weekend, but that was a total fail (see above). I feel a bit shitty about it, so no more drinking or late nights during the week for me anymore. I plan on getting in early tomorrow to get ahead. My boss was in three days last week, which was nice and comforting. She said I'm doing a great job and apologized for being m.i.a. Things seem to be simmering down for her, so I'm hoping this is when things will start picking up for me. She made mention of getting me and apartment in Philly for the month of July because I'm apparently going to be spending a ton of time there, so that's pretty cool. Also the Chicago project manager quit, so there may be an opportunity for me to go there as well. WRIGLEY!
Things are really looking up. The birthday drama freakout was a blessing in disguise. I was burying my nerves and trying to play it cool and be patient, but let's face it - patience is not my thing.
3. You know what's my thing? Or things rather? Boobs. It never occurred to me that I'm so boob-centric because of my, what do I call it, plight? Nah. That sounds religious. My situation? Eh. My boob chapter? Yeah, my boob chapter.
I recall being a boob girl before all that happened anyways, probably because as a kid my parents would make me go in the other room when they knew a nude scene was coming up in a movie. I'd naturally sneak a peek, not because I wanted to see naked chicks, but because I was curious as to what I wasn't allowed to see and really good at being defiant.
Anyhoo, my boob chapter is still writing itself. I still sleep propped up, usually wear a bra to bed, and rarely lift my arms or jump around. I've lost so much muscle since July that I suck at arm wrestling now, something I was quite proud of being good at considering I never worked out that much to begin with. I was an altoid, curiously strong and really white.
In my drunken birthday stupor I "accidentally" danced and bounced around way too much. My boob/chest muscle has been hurting ever since. Today's the first day it doesn't feel so bad. I wrote "accidentally" because at this point there is no fucking reason I shouldn't be able to dance, raise my arms, or do anything. It's been seven months since surgery and four months since I hurt myself on Thanksgiving. It sucks.
I don't want to go back to the asshole plastic surgeon ever, ever again so I went to my gyno to get a referral for a breast specialist. I called two of the tops ones and unfortunately they won't see me because I don't have cancer. Yes, it's a good thing I don't have it, but once they heard the word "implant" I felt there was a bit of condescension in the nurses' voices. Fuck you, fuckbag. It's not what you think. After I told them the story they eased up, but still wouldn't see me so I decided to go to for a mammogram/sonogram on my own. This way if something is wrong at least then maybe a specialist will be more willing to help. If there's nothing there I may go for an MRI and see a sports doctor. I read pulled chest muscles are a bitch, so maybe I have to treat it like it's a sprained ankle or something. Who knows. All I do know is I wish this fucking chapter would end.
The good news is the girls are still even. I feel pretty healthy otherwise, except I still get the lightheadedness and back of head headaches a few times a week. Oh well.
4. Boys. There's always one. Or four. The Gentleman and I had lunch the other day. I never ended up officially breaking it off and at this point there's no need. We are definitely in friend territory and I'm happy to stay there.
On St. Patty's Day I reached my two guy kiss quota. One was Will from last year. I saw him at the bar, we chatted, no big deal. Then on my walk home he came up on his bike and we walked together for a bit (he lives across the street from me). As I was saying good-bye he rammed his tongue down my throat. It was fine and I laughed it off, but I do not not NOT want to be with that guy. He's fucking nuts!
Even nuttier - the other guy I made out with was the fat member of the Ultimate Dickfuck Dodgeball team. Crazy, right? I didn't recognize him for a while, but I knew he looked familiar. When we figured it out I turned all red and starting yelling about how his team ruined dodgeball for me. Dramatic, much? Fa!
While he's much thinner and handsomer now, I'm not that into him. I'll probably go out for a drink or something just to be sure. One never can tell on St. Patty's Day.
The fourth dude of late is MD. Shocking. We've been spending a lot of time together again. He came out for my birthday, we hung out that weekend, this past Wednesday, and everyday this weekend. Now that I finally know some details about his past relationship and where he's at in his head other than "I don't want a serious relationship" I've become more calm and detached. We're not each other's taco lobster and that's okay.
I decided my soulmate's nickname is Big Red. I haven't met him yet, but I know he's out there. For some reason I'm not quite ready to look yet, probably because of work and boob chapter. I need some more time. I told myself March will be about getting back to Me and April will be about finding my We.
Oh and I'm over the guy Rem at work. I definitely want to be friends with him, though!
Shit it's late...why don't I sleep anymore!?!? Gah!
Monday, March 21
I'm back! HOLLA!