You Really Are An Artist

when you know you are not ready to go out and socialize, don't.

PinkJaime and i have a funny little joke that goes, "yes, let's go out for a drink after work...but JUST ONE." and then we laugh uproariously.

but yesterday, after my sad blogging and not wanting to go to our regular spot, i honestly believed that PinkJaime and i could get a single drink across the street before heading home from work.


just one.

um, and then by 9 o'clock, i was in a completely different part of town with a different outfit on.

and by 11 o'clock, i was home in bed realizing i should never drink again.

because martinis know when you are not in a good headspace, and they take advantage of your mind's susceptibility. martinis make you believe things you should not believe. in particular, martinis make you believe:
  • changing into 3+ inch heels is a good idea. who cares if we have to walk "a few" (five) blocks? and then hang out (stand) in a bar for a while (indefinitely)? they look GREAT.

  • carousing at an uber-hip and trendy sushi bar is likewise a good idea. it doesn't matter that you're older than everyone there and weigh the same as any two of the half-shirt-clad waitresses put together. the 21-year-old birthday boy standing next to you meant to imply they were unattractive when he proclaimed, "damn they're skinny!"

  • sake bombs are both delicious and entertaining. you should have three.

  • the witty, dancing drunk man is into you. you know this because he said, "god, kristy, you're fun" with great enthusiasm five minutes before leaving with his friend and two anorexic blonds with fake hair/nails/boobs/tans and purses more expensive than your monthly rent. you ARE fun.

  • CALLING YOUR EX IS A GOOD IDEA. after all, it's been four whole days.

  • EMAILING YOUR EX WHEN YOU GET HOME IS ALSO OKAY. because you already called him. so really, what's another email?

  • the best thing to believe, however, when you are drunk and home alone and sad is that you are really, truly an artist. and as such, you should write poetry. to your ex. and since you do not have any paper handy (because it is secretly hiding in a desk drawer where you keep the paper), you should write poetry on yourself. look at your arm; your arm is a blank palette. use it.

below: a picture of the incoherent, indelible-ink "poetry" i couldn't completely wash off my forearm this morning.

a regular emily dickinson i am


  1. K, don't call your ex
    be strong - don't call, or leave notes, or IM, or send txts, or smoke signels.
    You are going ot be fine and it is good that this upsets you.

  2. You're so right about the mystical powers of martinis. I've learned to be very, very careful where and when I drink them. They can make me feel extremely clever, which usually translates to "bitchy".

    You sound like you need a trip to the Tonga Room. There's nothing like drinking gigantic fruity drinks and watching stuffy hotel guests (and, if you're lucky, drunken bridesmaids) dancing badly to cheer you up.

  3. You poor girl! He's not worthy of you anyway!

  4. You totally rock. I mean it.

  5. LOL. The only thing I would have done differently was made out with someone gross before coming home and writing the poetry. I love the whole, well I already called so what is another email philosophy. Been there done that. Um am I over commenting? Hi, I'm new and reading during commercials. The Bachelor is kinda a loser this season btw.

  6. Hahaha. For me it's the tequila that gives me that "I'm-straight-but-everyone-else-here-is-so-freakin-drunk..."-and-then-you-wake-up-the-next-day-IN-THE-DRYER" feeling....

  7. Hey kristy, what's up? I work in San Francisco too. Want to drop me a line, maybe we can meet up for martinis sometime? Be sure to wear 3+ inch heels. They look GREAT.

  8. Hey, it's not just the martini's. It's Vodka in general. There's just something about it that makes you

    drink & dial...booty calls
    drink & text...booty texts
    drink & pic mail...a (ahem) visual of your um booty call needs.

    ok, maybe I'm talking about myself last weekend.

    Damn the white russians!!!

  9. Indeed! it is crucial that a lonely-drunken, just-breakup-en', home alone mopen', once young and slick - now middle-age approachen' with nothing else for their option other than drunk poem writing, to think they are - not merely your standard great artist, no way! This is an artist who's brilliants improves with each martini; however, dear unknown girl in San Francisco, missing her hot youth that is running away – I refuse to agree with your notion that two martinis is even acceptable let alone sufficient.

    Drunk hugs,
    The famous drunken editor
    The world's Most Raw Honest anti-Forum at Bad Drunken Bar Poetry

  10. the famous drunken editor rocks!

  11. Hi
    I was looking around blogland for some info to add to my site when I came accross your blog, very nice effort. I know what I like and I like it.

  12. fam drunken editor I HEART YOU!


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