2014 Is An Asshole

2013 wasn’t a particularly bad year for me. It was filled with the same ups and downs as most people experience plus the heightened awareness of the roller coaster thanks to my anxiety. In 2013, I made one of the best friends I’ve ever had, I celebrated my second year of survival, I was heartbroken and angrier than I’ve ever been, I reached 5,000 followers, and I learned that I definitely do NOT have knee herpes. I also moved to New York, started graduate school, and started teaching the “masses” of undergraduates that came my way. (Hi, guys!)

I got ready to party last night and ring in a new year filled with (hopefully) more good adventures than bad. I was ready to shed off 2013 like my outer athlete and embrace 2014 like my inner fat kid (Whilst maintaining both).

And then my body said, fuck you right in the nose.

Finger pointing

“Because I hate you”–Whitney’s body

5 PM: Dinner, split a glass of red wine with my mom. Drank lots and lots of water. Lots and LOTS.
630 PM: Returned home, told my mom I felt nauseous. Did nothing about it.
830 PM: arrived at the party. Had one glass of white wine.
930 PM: Had another glass of white wine. And some Pirate’s Booty. And puppy chow. And baked Brie.
1030 PM: Had another glass of wine, and a sip of some fireball (Why would anyone ever drink that?).
This glass of wine lasted me until midnight. When I had a sip of some champagne. I didn’t finish my last glass of wine.
Midnight: Sips of some champagne.
1230 AM 2014: Explosive sickness.
1245-430: Lots and lots of sick. All kinds of sickness. Couldn’t hold water down. Indian food does NOT taste as good coming back up, especially when it was really spicy to begin with. Around 1:30, I began to violently have the shivers. I was promptly covered with two blankets, including a down blanket, which did nothing other than insulate my coldness.

I named the toilet Frank. We became best friends.

I didn’t have that much to drink, and I paced myself well–one drink per hour.

Nay, said my anxiety, I am going to make you feel like you are dying tonight. Because you are an idiot and it is fun to watch you suffer. You are an alcoholic, I’ve decided. So I am going to punish you.

I’ve been trying to hold on to the diluted jello-water I’ve been drinking. I can’t stand for longer than a few minutes, and I’ve been fluctuating between boiling hot and freezing.

2014, you can go suck a dick.

Robert's American Gourmet Pirate's Booty

Or eat my regurgitated Pirate’s Booty.

42 Comments

Dude,
It’s hard for Le Clown to not be snarky, and when he tries to be loving, no one takes him seriously. That first thing-y about one of your best BFFs? It got him all teary and shit. He even read it to his wife. You know he feels the exact same way about you, don’t you?

As for 2014 sucking a dick… I’d like to know what’s so wrong with sucking a dick? Doesn’t it make 2014 one lucky fuck?
Le Clown

Haha, Since it’s the new year, I’ll be a gentleman and not touch that dick in the mouth comment. Sounds like you had a fine time, vomiting or otherwise. Thanks for making Clown cry, because there’s nothing creepy about that, right? Maybe day one of 2014 sucked enough choda (for you, Clown) that the rest of the year will be kick ass beyond your wildest dreams. I hope it is for you.

Sorry to hear about your extended date with Frank.
Not so water next time and don’t catch a virus either.
There’s an Irish naming tradition: first born son named after father’s father. This works just fine, except, for example, in my family, where they started with “John” who had a “Thomas” and so on for generations. It all stopped when my brother almost gave his son John a middle name of Thomas.

Better out than in, I say: very funny to read, and brought back many a memory of -er – bowl-hugging incidents from the past. Nowt like being under the affluence of incohol on New Year’s Eve! Alienora

That doesn’t sound like alcohol. That sounds like food poisoning. I’m sorry your year started with a date with Frank. I’ve been that sick. I slept with my Frank. Cuddled right up and soaked up the cold porcelain. I hope you’re feeling better.

Doesn’t sound like 2014 will be all bad. You’ve already made a new friend! With nurturing a care maybe this relationship could turn into BEST friendship. Never mind the fact that it’s an inanimate object. A friend is a friend no matter the type.

Oh dear, that sounds positively awful!! At least things can only get better, right?! Sounds like you had a few highlights in 2013 to get you through. Happy New Year!

Sorry to hear about that. I’ll blame brie for your troubles – I always suspected something just isn’t kosher with this specific kind of cheese.
So, I wish you a Happy New 364 remaining days of 2014 starting tomorrow – since the 1st of the year was obviously a flop.

Whit love,

So sorry to read about your unpleasant welcoming into the new year. Upside: it’s just something else to write about. I, however, have been playing house for the last 48 hours with one who I can only assume will give me the emotional equivalent of your listed physical ailments. I might not survive 2014, but it sure was fun trying… especially since I have free doughnuts here & a guitar under my bed… again. However, reading your post has helped inspire my recent journal writing to a whole new level of snark & self-analysis. So thank you!!

Brilliant writing as always! New York is getting pounded by snow tonight. Can’t wait to have you & your little puppy man back on the island! ❤

Oh, goodness. Well, Franks are the most available of men, and also the kindest, I’ve realized (it’s probably because they can’t talk and literally cannot walk out on us).

I miss you terribly, lady. I will be back before you know it!

I have decided amongst my list of New Year resolutions is now one that I will not be using the phrase “Let me be Frank” in conversation with you. Also it is a small joy to think that we you had Indian food to celebrate our anniversary (as did we) even if the enjoyment of it was short lived. What dishes did you have?

At least you know 2014 can only become kinder to you.
And by ‘know’ I guess I mean ‘have to hope’…

How did it take you so long to name your toilet? Poor Frank has been nameless for however long you’ve been sitting on him!

Um, first impressions, sounds like your wine was spiked with MDMA (basically what ecstasy is made of, if you’re not informed on recreational drug use). It’s easily accessible and can exist in liquid, powder and tablet form. It is especially easy to dose wine with liquid MDMA, you just put it in a syringe and inject it through to cork. This is mainly used in date rape but sometimes someone might dose a bottle or two for fun (these people are kinda psychopaths) and upon reading your article here I immediately thought that this had maybe happened to you and the effects that you felt were those of an MDMA overdose, I would suggest going to your local drug store or CVS/Walgreens and obtain a home drug test.
All the best, Kelly.

Good Lord, that’s horrible. It also brings back awesome memories of when the exact same thing happened to me last year. Most notably, my husband screaming from outside the bathroom door, “ARE YOU TAKING ANOTHER GRUMPY IN THERE?!” So stupid.

Hey, if you’ve got a minute, check out my blog http://1styearofmarriage.com/

I think you’re hilarious.

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