Blech

Either it's Emily Gould's confessional influence talking, or the fact that I'm in this city virtually alone, and since "breaking up," I have no one to share such musings with (pathetic pathetic pathetic), but I'm gonna say it:

Last night, at age 24, I threw up from drinking for the first time. I'd had, over the course of maybe 5 hours, 3 drinks. I'd also eaten virtually nothing and cried a lot. This is perhaps also pathetic, but as the vomit was real, the milestone has been achieved.

three...two...one...

As I contemplate the changing of the years, it is hard not to be overcome with regrets of 2009, soon to be cemented in history. I tell myself: the "year" is an arbitrary demarcation of time. The discontinuity between 12/31 and 1/1 is totally illusory. Right? Yes. Yes.

And then I realized: THIS is why people drink on New Year's Eve.