Shame. I've done some things over the years that I've been ashamed of. But, everyone has, right? Everyone makes mistakes. I've realized that some mistakes are ones I keep repeating. So, the way I see it, I have two options. I could admit it and try to change it, or I could accept my faults and have fun with it. I had a lot of fun this weekend. Sure, there are some memory gaps, and I feel like garbage right now (I'd feel worse had I not thrown up before sleeping), but I had fun.

It started Thursday. I had made plans over the internet to bake and watch movies with girls I barley know. Girls I liked when meeting them, but I still hardly know them. Except Meghan. I'm glad she was there too, I was shy enough as it is. I didn't even ask for a phone to call a cab home. Luckily, I snagged a ride with Meghan's mom. That was nice, and I really appreciated it. We talked about girl things, including bum sex (which reminds me to find the painting that Emily did for KC to show Francesca when she gets back from down south), Laura made a yummy (vegan?) chocolate cake, and we watched an awful movie called Midnight Cabaret.

Friday was my staff party. The holidays are over, so it was a good time to celebrate. I had a great time, but got way too drunk. Every time I turned around with an empty bottle, someone was handing me a new one. I really have no idea how much I had (how much beer, or how many beers?). I know I had too many, because by the end of the night I was getting paranoid and thinking some people hated me (and they might). For some reason, Greg, KC and I wanted more, so we went to Ginger's for a beer before they closed. On the way out (I don't remember this) we yelled at the bartender and guests because people were still drinking even though they wouldn't serve us. Then, we yelled at some people in line by Cheers before getting in a cab. When we got to my place, it appeared no one had cigarettes, so we stumbled up Quinpool to the gas station. It was closed. It's not 24 hours anymore. So, we turned around and staggered to Video Difference. My shoes still were not tied. When I got up the next day, there were 3 packs of smokes in my living room. The ones I thought I left at the bar were in my purse, plus the new pack, plus the pack Greg left behind.

Saturday was painful. The only thing that helped me through was looking at my coworkers and laughing. Laughing with them, not at them, because we were now sober, in pain, and remembering our conversations from the night before. That night, I lost some money at poker, but after winning probably the best hand I've ever played.

Last night I went to Reflections. My boy shared draught with me, but then I got tempted when happy hour hit. I wonder how he's doing today. I didn't even hear him get up. I recently got called from work and told I can come in later. So, I'm going to lie back down.

I felt vibes last night. There seems to be some sort of situation brewing. Do you know what? Whatever. I've tried to be open-minded. I've tried to be nice. When I don't make progress, I give up quickly. So, I'm done. You can fuck yourself.

Unfortunately, that's not how I feel about everyone that might think that's to them. I'm actually really bothered by someone I thought was a friend. His behaviour around me *seems* to have changed (maybe I'm being paranoid), but I can't think of why. As far as I know, I haven't done anything. I know it's easier to talk about someone than to talk to them, which is a shame (and I'm guilty of it too). I'm just going to keep pulling away until eventually, we can't even remember ever being friends. That's too bad. But, I can't keep dwelling.