Bumps & Bruises

Being back in New York City for the week is awesome.  It's fun to walk around my old neighborhood and honestly, I feel like I never left.  Everywhere I go, I am reminded of someone or something that brings a smile to my face and being that I was sober here for five years I have many amazing memories of being present and alive.  I have my drunk memories too though, but thankfully they have become more amusing than painful.  I remember someone saying to me laugh until it becomes funny and at the time I couldn't imagine feeling anything other than shame, but of course, they were right.  It takes time but it does happen.  

Tonight we are headed uptown for a birthday party but are first having dinner at Morandi in the West Village near my old apartment.  I spent a lot of time at this restaurant, and on one memorable occasion, I drunkenly slid across the bar floor to the horror of the entire restaurant.  At the time, I was too drunk to realize it but my date was mortified and as he ushered me out the door he was quietly apologizing to the staff.   In an older post, I wrote about 'getting dressed for a date' and this story and that story are the same guy.  Apparently, he loved to be tortured.    

About a month after the Morandi incident we were at a bar right around the corner from my tiny apartment, and after many, many rounds of drinks, we made our way home.  It was around 4 am when we stopped chain smoking and climbed off the fire escape back into my bedroom.  I was so drunk teetering around in my heels that when I tried to maneuver around my bed, I ended up tripping when my heel got caught on a splintered floor board.  I was too fucked up to brace myself for impact, so I just held onto my drink and went head first into my clothes rack. I woke up the next morning with blood all over my bed, all over my clothes, and an enormous gash on my forehead.  I have a small scar above my right eyebrow from that night, and I wish I could say that I stopped drinking but, unfortunately, I gave up wearing high heels instead.  

Thankfully, those days are behind me, and I can make an outfit choice tonight that doesn't come with the possibility of waking up on a gurney.  I can go to dinner in the highest possible heels and know with complete certainty I won't be sliding across the bar room floor because I am too wasted to walk.