An imaginary scene at 4a.m titled: Detachment

My left side leaning lazily against the white porcelain sink, I had a chunk of her long auburn hair in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. I observed, absentmindedly, as the ashes fell like snow flakes in slow motion into the drain. She was bend over, almost doubled over her stomach in front of me while she braced herself with both hands on each side against the bathtub. He stood, his back to me, gripping a red solo cup, half-full with Haig in one hand, his penis in the other as he attempted to aim in the toilet bowl. My thoughts were like dull blades trying to focus but otherwise pointless and disengaged. My ears were buzzing and begged for the music and loud banging on the door in the background to stop. "GO A-WAY"! I screamed as I turned around and went towards the closed but otherwise unlocked door with it's scratched surface and protruding banged up frame. Securing the door and returning slowly to my post I was looking at the square mint-colored tiles reminiscent of the 50s and my grandma's bathroom where I watched her bathe, roll her hair into a neat chignon and put on cobalt blue kohl which brought out her eyes and, which even though she reapplied everyday, never seemed to take off at the end of it. Meanwhile a thick lock of hair had fallen to the side of her oval face and was now dangling with a little bit of vomit and she began crying even louder than before.I went over and somewhat indifferently patted her back in an effort to calm her down. I tapped his shoulder, borrowing a sip of his drink and a piece of toilet paper which I used to sloppily clean the barfed-on lock of hair. My ears were still buzzing and I felt my head spinning but I could hear "Uptown Funk" was playing, something which prompted the girl previously slumped over a stranger's bathtub to jump up, tear-free and spin around grabbing his forearm, launching them both out the door and into the party. Left facing the bathtub, I grabbed the shower-head and started washing away the stomach contents of my friend. Satisfied with a crime well-concealed, I now stood facing the mirror over the sink, which was filthy with cigarette ashes and I remembered that in spite of his usual OCD-level cleanliness he hadn't washed his hands before dashing off. I was rubbing mascara stains off of my cried-on cardigan, when the host came in through the door left ajar, her heels clicking on the tile floor, her tulle and lace skirt dragging. "Go ahead" I said, noticing that the ball of wet tissue paper I was holding was rapidly falling apart and shedding white-ish fibers, giving her a nod through the mirror letting her know that if she wanted to pee she'd have to do it with me here. She didn't seem to mind and sat on the toilet, unclasping her high-heels and tossing them aside. I heard the fake camera chime from an i-phone go off, multiple times a second, the sound of another selfie behind me. I stared blankly at my phone on the mirror shelf.  "Fuck" she said. Unzipping my leopard print purse and reaching inside, I handed her a tampon without turning to face her. I moved so she could wash her hands and she flew out the door, which was now left completely open. Outside was the long hallway, people tittering to and fro and beyond that more people, drinks and loud music. The mood outside had shifted I felt, all sense of feeling drowning in the fluids of inebriation. In another mirror, facing the bathroom door, out in the hallway, this one body-length, I starred at my self in dismay. My oily complexion had my face shining like an August moon, my hair, tucked behind my ears on both sides of my middle part, had lost all volume whatsoever. My curve-hugging outfit seemed less of a good idea than it was when I first put it on exactly 7 hours ago. I looked down at my shoes and the flattened cigarette butt peeking from underneath my right sole, apparently stuck after I had disregarded and stepped on it. On the brand new white Miele washing machine in the corner was a silver tray with ornate carvings that looked antique and on it an array of red solo cups, some empty, some half-full with murky brown liquid which I determined by the smell, was whiskey-coke, and some with bits of tobacco floating like castaway sailors. The smell of alcohol and smoke and vomit made me feel queasy for a moment but eyeing a small, green, glass bottle with a red and green label I grabbed it, unscrewed the cap and took a mouthful of lukewarm lager. I lit another cigarette. I waited for the next guest in my domain. The door open, the music pouring in, the smoke creating a halo around my head, beer in hand, living the dream.

It's the most wonderful time of the year!

A small, dusty-pink, candy-adorned, silver-lighted Christmas tree, with a big magenta bow on top, has been put up in the far-left corner of my living room since the 25th of November. At the far-right a twinkle-lit red and green gift box gives off a subtle glow. On the inside of my front door hangs a white wreath with pink and purple ornaments and on the outside a silver "Merry Christmas" welcoming my guests(well, my one stable guest anyway) and serves as a gentle reminder to my neighbors that "Last Christmas" and "Santa Baby" will be playing non-stop, at an audible yet not borderline-noisy volume. Yes, as you might have guessed I'm one of those annoying people who start celebrating and decorating for Christmas before you can even finish saying "but it's still October". My usually non-enthousiastic self is uncharacteristically jolly and it is indeed the most wonderful time of the year! After a terribly stressful and hectic week I am glad to say that I am finished with work and ready for my "-20 and snowy, with a chance of polar vortex and seeing Patrick Swayze outside a resort in the woods, with a bear" Canada adventure. Well not really an adventure(unless Patrick Swayze does show up a la Dirty Dancing, preferably riding a bear or moose), since I was in Toronto last year so I know what to expect at least for the most part. This year my mum decided that we would go to a friend's cabin(somewhere in the woods,no joke) and spend Christmas there, which is fantastic cause that way we can stay in where it's warm and day-drink(which is the only way I'm getting through 10 days with my mother). I'll be back in time for my annual New Year's tradition with my best friend which will then result in going to some party or gathering that will ruin all expectations of a good time, get violently drunk and/or run into the worst ex in the history of all exes, because New Year's Eve always sucks balls.
 However, as it happens, my birthday is right around the corner, on the 10th of January(mark your calendars) which I vigorously plan a year ahead(because I'm a freak) and makes up for any 1st of the year debacle... and it seems it came early this year. My boyfriend already got me a spa treatment as a present so I can go get pretty before the big day(more like a long-weekend really) and my fairy godmother Jess got me tickets to the Black Keys who are playing in Athens this May(I cried and I'm not ashamed to say it). Best birthday gift ever, and it's not even my actual birthday yet! No offense to everyone else who's getting me something, but you know, thanks for trying, maybe next year. Also my two best friends are getting me a surprise birthday cake, which I am sure is going to be ridiculously obscene and possibly offensive to all parties present,  and my other best friend made some kind of weird dog analogy and all I said was "please don't get me a dog"(unless it's your dog that's basically a cat).
You, know though, in the true spirit of the holidays-consumerism-, the only thing better than getting presents, is giving them. I often get more excited as I'm watching someone else open my (perfectly wrapped, magnificently thoughtful) gift, than when I'm opening mine. So, I'm happy to say I'm bringing back gifts from Canada for my all friends and am especially ecstatic to watch the look on their little faces as they tear open the package and see their colorful onesies( I'm not even shitting you, that's what you're getting).
Until next time Happy Holidays everyone!!! Stay drunk and merry!

Hugs and Kisses xx E.
 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFtb3EtjEic

Happy Halloween!!!

I trust that in the "true"(which is definitely not this) spirit of the Halloween tradition, all you girls and boys, danced, got drunk and frolicked in streets, clubs and restrooms dressed as slutty bunnies and pop culture icons. I, myself am more of Christmas kinda gal and no, I don't mean I like Christmas, oh no honey, I AM Christmas! I get the fascination with Halloween though. For kids it's more about the candy and dressing up as their favorite heroes and for adults it's more about hooking up with strangers while pretending to be someone else(which is true in most cases anyway). We all have as people this strong urge to be someone else, someone better, or provocative and sexually suggestive, generally to pretend but we also don't want to be judged for it. Halloween poses the perfect opportunity. In traditional folklore people supposedly dressed up so that the dead that walked among the living only on this night, wouldn't recognize them. Nowadays I guess its more about escaping our own realities and ordinary selves. I too, went to a costume party last night , actually to two if I'm being honest, dressed as a film noir vamp(or a fancy prostitute, I mean however you wanna look at it...just kidding! But really as a reference to Mean Girls I could've been booo, you whore! but sadly no one asked). Getting ready was a kind of ritual, of getting in the vintage mood. I pin curled my hair and put on dramatic makeup while listening to jazzy tunes. I wore stockings with a garter belt, gloves, a hair piece and a skirt that prevented me from ever sitting down again for the rest of the evening! My friends went as a corpse bride, Marie Antoinette *post guillotine and Luna, Sailor Moon's cat(I did her cat makeup!). We felt fabulous as we walked down the street, all eyes of casually dressed people on us. If they were making fun of us, we didn't care. In fact, I'd love to walk around like that every day. At the party everyone was dressed up as something scary, skeletons, ghosts, ghouls and one guy who was dressed as a terrifying scarecrow, who I would not want to run into alone. Thankfully no clowns! Also thankfully no slutty nurses or cops or slutty-anythings for that matter. We choked on the gallons of dry-ice that gave the place an eerie horror movie effect, drank out of water bottles filled with wine we brought from home and danced like nobody's business to 90s pop anthems. Going to the bathroom was a bit of nightmare as was having to squeeze back into my skirt but even that was kinda fun. We also took like a million pictures in which my face almost looks exactly the same! Until next time, Happy post-Halloween hangover!