Oh I can Mum, I can.
If you are a normal person that rarely drinks and has a fulfilled happy life, move on now. Or stay and bathe in the notion that you are not as fucked up as others.
I started drinking when I was 15, like most Croatians do. We'd all say we were having a sleepover at a friend's place whose mum was working night shifts (or didn't care much about us drinking in the first place). The only rule was that I always had to be home very early in the morning, which meant sleeping two hours and feeling sick after drinking the shittiest wine there is (parents would give us money to buy a Coke and we needed to buy cigarettes and wine, tough deal). My mum started climbing mountains at that point too (completely understandable), which meant I, the second woman in the house, had to clean fish every morning for Saturday lunch. Now I think it might have just been a punishment from Father who realised I'm drinking (how could you not) and instead of discussing it (we don't do that) or forbidding it (even worse), came up with this brilliant plan to hate alcohol (and life) Saturday mornings.
It didn't help. We continued. Because that's what you do when you are a teenager. We'd drink wine and eat candies (cause the wine taste was unbearable), sing or more precisely scream while somebody was playing a guitar and just be the usual obnoxious drunk kids in the yard of a kinder garden (no idea). There was nothing more fun or liberating than screaming to Janis Joplin or Creep from Radiohead. All the pressure from school, all the boys that didn't like you, all the people that were (later you realise) assholes to you, all the people you were (later you realise) an asshole to, all the horrible things your parents and teachers did, all the hormones fucking up your body and your mind, all the cruel world out there would for a moment disappear with the line What the heeeeell am I doing hereeeeeee? I don't belong here. AAAAAAA AAAAAAA Sheeeeeeeeeeeeeee's running out she ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuns sheeeeeeee's running out she runs RUNS RUNS RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNS RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNS.
It was also the way to meet boys. Cause boys drank too.
It was fun. It was liberating, It was numbing.
17 years later, it still is. Because that's what you do. That's what some of us do.
You had a good day, you celebrate. You want to meet friends, you go to a bar. You want to meet men, you go to a bar. You had a bad day, you DRINK. All the pressure from work, all the stupid conversations, all the people that didn't like you (plus all the Mistakes when you were drunk last times), all the people that were assholes to you, all the expectations to deal with, all the relationshit, all the things you want to do but you don't, all the happy other people you see on facebook, all the misunderstandings you had, all the chances you didn't take, every conversation you infinitely repeated in your head and every single mistake you have ever done and every stupid thing that you have ever said, and all the bad news, and all horrible things humanity is doing, and all the stupid things people on public transport say - go away with that beer.
And get killed with that shot.
You know the movie The Fifth Element? (you should) So you know the scene where Leeloo (the fifth element) learns about humanity by watching videos of human present and history? And then she cries, crashes, gives up and "dies" cause there is nothing worth fighting for? You see, at that moment, I drink. Maybe it's a matter of knowing for a fact that there is no Bruce Willis out there who'll save me. And a feminist in me (born and bred in Berlin) would say I don't need someone to save me and the hippy in me would say love comes from within yourself (the simple truth is there is no fucking Bruce Willis and if there is I bet he's drinking in the bar too).
What's even worse, it's fun, The best encounters and conversations I had in my life were over a drink (did I have any else?). The life-changing decisions were made over a drink (or a hangover). The most valuable lessons I learned in life no school ever provided me with. It was people when I travelled and people when I drank. As my friend put it the other day when I got upset about how much we all (I) drink - Marijana, in my experience, all the best people do.
And my friends drink too. One of them (that doesn't drink) once told me that it's not my friends, it's just people that drink with me and there is no love there. One of my closest friends here was also my drinking buddy most often. It was our thing, we go to a bar, we sit at the counter and we drink beer, and have shots and talk the whole night and last half an hour tell each other how much we love each other and hug the whole time. That's about 6am. Or sometimes I yell at him because I get angry if I drink whiskey shots. And then at some point we saw each other over a coffee during a day and I said to him Oh, did you colour your tattoo? And he said, Marijana, it was always in colour. Oh...
So this friendship sounds superficial and uncaring but it wasn't at all. I love him to pieces and he broke my heart when he left Berlin. I mean how much you talk when you are drunk and what people find out about you and what you find out about other people? All hell breaks lose sometimes. And that's what connects you. And shit doesn't happen over salads.
I had this amazing idea of a Sober October. After two weeks, I realised nothing much has changed except I hated people. I HATED PEOPLE. And I always claimed to be the one that loves everybody and accepts everybody or at least tolerates everybody. Hated it. So I thought, of course, IT'S BECAUSE I HAVE BEEN F***ING DRINKING THAT LAST 17 YEARS. Maybe I should just go away and live in my vineyard with a few people around who would hate me anyway because I wouldn't go to church on Sundays.
But then again, I work in bars, 5-6 days a week. There is nothing worse than being sober with drunk people. Not even the most loving person can deal with that, unless he's brain dead. Or Australian.
How do you cope with people? So Sober October turned into Almost Sober October and it went unexceptionally well. It didn't even make me proud.
And then there are men. Of course there are. Cause where do you find them? In a bar. Where do you meet men? Sometimes in a bar, rarely through friends and really rarely anywhere else (tinder and other online dating escapades deserve a whole other post). The amount of women drinking only to meet men and vice versa is ridiculous. AND YOU DON'T REALLY GET TO MEET THEM ANYWAY. You are all drinking at the same place for a while, maybe you see someone you like, maybe you look at him for a while and then YOU NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN. Because nobody ever did anything about it. Or at least very rarely. You'd think since it's (one of) the main preoccupations of most people (in all the ways, sex, partnership, love, ego, reproduction, something to tell your friends about) we'd do a bit more about it? No (unless you go to a hook-up bar, you know, the place with a lot of tourists and the smell of chlamydia). Instead we drink. Sometimes we talk to them when we drink. Our imagination fuels up, we think it's going great. The next day we realise it didn't.
It's also probably the lack of a partner, couples don't drink right? They say the whole world lights up and all the colours are stronger when you're in love. Sounds very much like that forth shot I have.
Oh where art thou Bruce?
There's a bomb to diffuse
And it's right here in my liver
My life's gone down the river
My hangovers last for days
I think it's the final phase
There will be an intervention
My friends with best intention
They'll force me to be sober
Not only in damn October
I'll never have sex again
Cause where would I meet men
I'll become an old lady
Whose face is all shady
Vagina full with bats
But she has a lot of cats.
Please save me oh Bruce
you have no excuse
I'll sleep with you every day
I hope you are not gay
I'll be forever batshit crazy
Bruce don't be lazy
Without you there's no answer
I'll probably get cancer
I'll be covered in bugs
Maybe the solution is drugs?
Till the next hangover. Have some goals in life:
No comments:
Post a Comment