beer for dinner, I am a sinner
I had beer for dinner and a croquet Madame for breakfast and I’m feeling a little sick right now. I’m sitting on my back patio, listening to a weed whacker, drinking ginger tea. since I’m jobless I’m trying not to eat a ton; it’s cheap beer and coffee, whatever food’s at the bottom of my backpack, whatever friends buy for me.
just cos I’m broke doesn’t mean I can digest gluten and dairy any easier. but eating crappy food and feeling crappy does keep me full for a very long time.
I’m weird about food on a good day, and when I get nervous things get weirder. right now my fridge is full of leftovers I can’t eat or get rid of: in case of starvation, in case of maxed-out credit card, in case of zombie apocalypse.
this morning the guy I’m dating took me to brunch at cafe presse. I could barely eat but wasn’t too proud to over-order and box everything to go. bad girl. much gauche. yes Madame in a box. cake and salad on top please. I almost yoinked bread and butter too but since I don’t like butter and bread makes me sick I thought that would be crossing the line.
maybe you are thinking: stop being so weird, emily! you are alienating the people who like you and fucking yourself! maybe you are right. but if I weren’t myself, my food-hoarding, internet-oversharing self, who would I be? and worse: what would I eat?
also I like to be as weird as possible with dudes up front so they don’t think I’m not weird.
maybe you are thinking, if you are so poor, emily, stop spending money on beer! that one is true. I am staying sober except on other people’s dime until I am gainfully employed, but last night was a special occasion. the occasion: the dead baby downhill.
every year for 18 years there is a huge bike party in Georgetown, an industrial brick neighborhood in south Seattle. I never go to Georgetown because I thought it was too far away, except it’s actually only a 20 minute bike ride from the hill. last night will be the first of many adventures.
there were live bands, pedal-powered carnival rides, bike jousting, beer. limitless beer. apparently this was the smallest dead baby ever but I had a good time. nostalgia kills in a city that was killin it 18 years ago. i met some cool people, made some drunk plans. I saw kids do tricks on bmx bikes, saw grownups joust on unicycles, saw drunk and less drunk people, cool and less cool bands.
I saw literally the worst person ever shove his way in front of my short friend as we stood on tiptoe trying to watch bike burlesque. and then he smoked a cigarette in a crowd.
literally the worst.
but then my friend got new handlebars that rained down from above so karma is real. and that guy is 4eva a douche which I think is a pretty bad punishment.
at 2 I left my friends and biked back to the hill with my date. we listened to la luz and I drunk cried about my job and he made me tea and then we went to sleep. he is a cool dude.
fast forward: morning rain, French brunch, tummy, tea, now. now is for napping: funemployment ftw!
even with infinite free time I still can’t do it all. there are art parties and block parties, bike upon bike rides, and it’s always happy hour somewhere. Seattle summer is boundless.
but sleep is necessary; good food too. time to stop being weird and get out the ole trusty credit card.
I will dream of organic local produce and endless jobless summer