the (real) perks of being a wallflower: (folie a) deux

credit to aspartamee on deviantart

They’re all cajoling me to have one round of puff-puff-pass.  I decline politely, meaning without once mentioning lung cancer or how gross the human mouth is.  He leans over me, token hanging limply from his fingers. He’s way ahead of the game of bloodshot eyes and blackened pulmonary parenchyma. “I’m not into the peer pressure thing,” he confides, “but you’re seriously not gonna have one? Come on.”  I don’t think peer pressure means what you think it means. 

  • My friends’ tagline should be “Doing all this shit so you don’t have to”.
  • My problem isn’t that I don’t have stories to tell; it’s that I don’t know how to tell them.
  • I spent this morning coming up with alternatives to the afore-mentioned game. Puff-pass-pass-pass-pass is my favourite so far.
  • I don’t get hang overs (knock on wood).
  • This morning I woke up before anyone else and cleaned. I like to feel useful. I discarded cigarette butts like some people discard sex partners. I threw out drink cups and empty Red Bull cans with what can only be described as a malicious glee. I wished there were cigarettes in the empty cartons I crumpled so satisfyingly. I wished there was tea somewhere.
  • secret: the real reason people try to get everyone else drunk is so no sober people are around to tell tales.
  • secret: sometimes drunk people tell tales too.
  • the best drink-ups: are invitation-only in a small dark room. floor seating. at least three bottles of alcohol. several strategically placed ashtrays. an impressive sound system that doesn’t leave when the dj does. ventilation and clothing optional.
  • Alcohol has a habit of doing away with awkwardness. Or at the very least dressing it up in heels and fishnets.
  • hipster social tip: the goal in answering ‘what would you like to hear’ is to name an artiste you think they couldn’t possibly know/have.
  • Being a wallflower is a great way to spend a party if you’re not weirded out by watching other people lose their inhibitions. Some people can’t handle watching other people act drunk while they’re sober; I find it morbidly fascinating. But then, I’m a natural voyeur.

top quote of the morning after:

  1. Um, if you find a mark on your neck, don’t worry that was me.

the (real) perks of being a wallflower: (party of) one

Open secret: Halloween is an excuse for  15 year olds to dress up as legal adults.

Kingston’s Halloween parties are crawling with neon phalluses wielded by tiny lesbians and curvy brunettes wishing they were Mila Jovovich a la The Fifth Element. Also, an inordinate amount of dubstep. Which is good for nodding an appendage, but rather awkward to dance to. Alice and a couple ninja!white rabbits seemed to think so too because the crowd started calling for slacker music i.e. music with actual lyrics.

The first thing out of her mouth after the introductions are over is, “I thought you were over here doing coke.”

I like to think I imagined the hint of disappointment in her voice.

She shrugs over our bewildered laughter. “I mean this being Pilleaters* and all. And then she was rubbing her nose, so I expected to see it cut up on the table.

“Don’t do coke,” she adds. She points at her friend (who’s with us). “He’s gonna do coke.” We laugh uncertainly again. “Don’t let him make you do coke,” she says to his girlfriend, and then disappears to eat, drink and prop up a support beam for the rest of the night.

I have to wonder these days if people know that the point of Halloween as a festival was to scare ghosts away, not give them STIs. Or maybe evil spirits will be terrified of stronger spirits and the thought of a coyote ugly morning after.

protip: you should always know exactly what you’re drinking.

secret: no one ever does.

I believe you should have the kind of relationship with alcohol that always leaves you wanting more. Alcohol shouldn’t be the abusive lover; alcohol should be the mistress you call up at 3am when you’re alone and horny. Alcohol shouldn’t be the solution to your unhealthy relationship; on the other hand, if alcohol is your only unhealthy relationship then you’re pretty much golden.

But I’m just glad my mouth has stopped feeling like tequila’s bitch.

* –  names changed to protect myself from lawsuits.

You should read…

Not feeling terribly well today. Have a random book rec post!

My one month holiday left me with a lot of reading time – not that I have less reading time now (I’m two books into Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series). And during that time, I got the chance to read a couple books I’d been eyeing for some time.

In no particular order:

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
I can actually remember seeing this book in a bookstore while I was in high school and thinking, I want to read this. It only took me five years. The Alchemist is amazingly insightful, and reassuringly intense. It plumbs the depths of the human soul, returning with priceless quotes and thought-provoking sentiments. If you haven’t, read it. If you have, read it again. I borrowed a copy from a friend and have no intention of returning it any time soon. It’s the kind of book that warms your heart just by having it on your shelves.

House of God by Samuel Shem
Except for her sunglasses, Berry is naked. The first line of this book is kind of a wake-up jolt that preludes the rest of its electric material.  This book finds nothing sacrosanct about the principles and practice of medicine in a hospital affectionately called the House of God. It is bitterly cynical, harshly satirical and wearily resigned. Much like the average medical intern. I recommend it to anyone interested in a career of medicine who has a strong stomach for irreverence.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chobsky
Yet another novel that I’d been interested in reading for years. Written as a series of letters from Charlie to ‘Friend’, it’s a moving coming-of-age chronicle that I wish someone had given to me in high school. I could have used Charlie’s insight when I was his age. But reading it as I am now, a bit older and wiser, I can still identify with the characters in the book. TPoBaW has a timeless appeal, and I’m pretty sure I’d enjoy it as much at 60 as I did last month.