"SATURDAY NIGHT WRIST": I'm Not A Player, I Just Duck Alot.

I went out last Saturday night and met Anya for drinks at Black Cat. The bartenders hooked us all the way up. I ordered Stoli on the rocks and it was given to me in a pint glass..gnarly. So I had a lot of fun..there were a few bumps in the road, but what are you gonna do. I've been in a very strange and painful place lately where I feel the weight of getting older, but can't reconcile it. I feel trapped between late-teens/early-twenties insanity and mid-twenties and beyond settling down. I can't stay out late anymore, two drink hangover and when I see a guy that's hot, I think, "okay, and what's wrong with you". I got drunk as fuck on Saturday and Anya's funny ass grabbed this random dude and made me dance with him. He was short, but was built like a fucking brick house..soo hot. So I ask him if he's gay and he says no. "You're soo fucking hot!! I wanna fuck you. Tonight. What's your number.". He gives me his number, and then we start making out. And then this wave of, "what the fuck" rushes over me...what the fuck was I doing?? Okay, yes, he was a good-looking guy..but really? Random fucking? We're doing that again? I just feel over everything. As though maybe I experienced too much as a youngster and now I'm out of ideas. Jaded. Cynical. The poor guy..It was obvious that something just switched off in my brain and decided that I was not going to fuck him. "But I wanna fuck you..". Awwee, how cute..but it just wasn't going to happen. I went back into the red room and started to write. I felt like a fucking parasite. I was just going to fuck that guy, make up some retarded lie about maintenance coming in the morning and ask him to leave...never calling him again. Such "taker" mentality. 18 year old Ashley wouldn't have fucked him either...she would have made out with him, promise to go out on a date with him and then never talk to him again. Oh, those innocent times. I'll never forget the time I made this guy eat me out in a bathroom while I was on my period. Just because I could. Just because I fucking could. I wasn't interested in the guy. He was okay looking, but, I wasn't into him in the least. I was power-tripping during those days. That had a boomerang effect when I broke up with my ex and went on a dick crusade..but I've been single for a really long time, and I've sown those oats. I've been there, done that and done it all again. And besides, my libido is way more complex than I let on. I can't just fuck someone for shits and giggles (anymore). That's just so desperate. I feel as though people that are ultra promiscuous are just doing it because they need some sort of external validation or acceptance. I don't really need that. I have friends that say that I should stop thinking and just fuck someone, ANYONE. That's just not my style..I like the satisfying feeling of fucking someone that I'm soooo into. That beats a million shitty one-nighters any day. I'm a cerebral gal. I love talking to a guy and being in awe of the things he says..hanging on his every word because he's so fucking smart and has interesting things to say. There are times when I wish so much that I were stupid and had self-esteem issues and could just fuck whoever and not give 10 shits about it...but I can't, and will forever be stuck in this vestibule where my past dalliances are in one room and my future prospects are in another...I really hope this isn't going to be forever and that I either give all the way the fuck up or am married or something by 30...I don't think I can handle having to deal with this shit into my thirties.

"OH MY GOD YOU'RE A CANCER!!!":Astrology And How I Utilize It To Choose My Fuck-Partners.

I've kickstarted my Astrology obsession yet again. I find that these bouts (which are symptoms of my anxiety disorder) flare up when I feel an overwhelming sense of uncertainty. Checking my daily, weekly and monthly horoscope as a diabetic would their sugar level. This year is supposed to be stellar for Aquarians..I have yet to witness anything as so. Pretty standard malaise all day, but whatever. This descent into the astrological abyss reminded me of something...my dating history by sign. When I tally it up, I have had encounters with every sign. Does that mean that I've fucked every sign? No. But I've at least had a mishap or 12..which I count as an encounter..

Aries..I always get along well with them, but they're so fucking wild..loyal, but wild. I've had my fair share confess their love for me, but I always see them as friends/brothers..

Taurus..BORING AS FUUUUCK..

Gemini...No clue how dull they are, have over-inflated egos and are fucking crazy. Not down with them at all.

Cancer..I need a whole paragraph..will revisit.

Leo..I probably get along with them the best..always good looking, always fun.

Virgo...Psychopaths who almost always lead double lives.

Libra..Mean and insecure, or so nice they're boring.

Scorpio...Intense..I'll have to revisit this one as well..

Sagittarius...Know-it-alls, lazy.

Capricorn...Cold, chivalrous.

Aquarius...Psychopath, genius..feelings, what are those?

Pisces...Sappy, issues to the tenth power.

Back to Cancer. Every significant male experience that I've had has been with a Cancerian man. I loved them..I've just come to the realization that although I am drawn to them and them to me, I have noooo fucking business dating, fucking or anything-ing with a Cancer. I think that it's an extreme case of opposites attracting. Aquarius is the most unfeeling sign of the Zodiac. Cancer is the most feeling. It's never a good fucking scene and I swear to god that I have JUST disavowed my relationship with Cancers. Okay, okay, I'm making ONE last exception. After I fuck that guy, I'm done! Scouts honor.

And now I'll revisit Scorpios...Scorpio, Scorpio, Scorpio. So I used to have this FUCKED UP "thing" with this Scorpio guy a few years ago..it was just..so..I can't even..thinking about it used to make me want to jump out of my skin, but I had a dream about him a few nights ago and realized that he is not the asshole that I made up in my mind, but that we were two crazy kids trying to do the best we could with a fucked up situation. In the dream, I was at a party in Raleigh with some friends and the Scorpio came up to me, kissed me on the cheek and was genuinely happy to see me. It was so bizarre. There wasn't any sexual tension. It was extremely platonic. Now, I'm really hoping that it stays in the dream and I won't have contact with him anytime soon, because although all is forgiven on my end, I still have no desire to run into him. This strange thing would happen where I would think or talk about him (especially with E) and I would either see him or receive a random text message from him. We've been all clear so far..thank god.

I've resigned myself to the idea of having my next boyfriend be a Leo. I was kinda sorta "seeing" Eric..who is a Leo. If Eric weren't soooo much older than me, I'd fucking marry him. And I don't even fucking like blonds.

"I'm A Groown Man, I'm A Biiiig Girl":TWENTY-FIVE AND QUASI-ALIVE!!

Soooo, eight days ago, I turned twenty-fucking-five. The fact that I have lived long enough to see my twenty-fifth birthday is nothing short of a miracle. I've done some fucked up things. I've almost died a few times, most of them alcohol related......I can say that I have lived an eventful and righteous life.

I will say that my threshold for silly shit is sooo low that I cannot tolerate situations that are conducive to stress at fucking all. I used to be able to have stressful jobs as a bartender and server, have it destroy my inner-world, pickup and start again..not anymore..I just can't bounce back from bullshit like I used to be able to. I've resigned myself to living as stress-free of a life as possible..my mom and I have this running joke with my grandfather as the butt...he will not stress about anything. He's had brain tumors, blood diseases, his hand was mangled in a machine accident and he has had family member after family member die...and he could give two thousand fucks about it..it's probably why he looks 50 at 74...So whenever I feel myself getting stressed out, I think about my grandpa and Lionel Richie's "Easy"..and a wave of calm blankets me. 

I'm also a little bit pissed that I allowed myself to stress the way that I did when I was younger...I shouldn't have been thinking about my future at 18,19, 20, 21,22, 23 or even 24...FUCK IT. I raged the fuck out, don't get me wrong..and I have little to no regrets..but I did spend a sizable chunk trippin' about paying bills and shit..which I guess is normal when you're out on your own..whatever...Now I just find myself doing these things:

1. Sleeping

2. Wondering why parts of my body hurt

3. Wondering when my eyesight became so bad

4. Saying, "I'm too old for this.."

5. Wondering if I'm still considered young

I'm trying not to think to hard about how old I am, because it's a slippery slope...I'll be in my mid-thirties (assuming I make it to then) before I even have time to fully process twenty-five.