Drinking and Social Media

Eyes on the road

Social media is my enemy when I am drinking because I think I am hilarious, and should let the world know. I am on stage, and because no one is actually watching, I have the courage to act out the one-woman show going in my head.

Sunday, I watched some movie on the couch about abortion. I woke up in the morning and found I wrote 6 tweets about the movie. Mostly all of it was incoherent. I think I was talking about how I am Catholic and a believer in Women’s rights. It was a fucking mess.

You know when you pass a drunken bum stumbling down the street having a conversation to himself that is so captivating, the rest of the world doesn’t seem to exist? Well, I am the social media equivalent.

I am so used to embarrassing myself that I really don’t let that stuff bother me too much. Like RuPaul says, “It’s none of my business what other people think about me.” However, I do some pretty cringe worthy things where I embarrass myself to myself. First of all, I can start down a trail of poetry, which is undoubtedly shit, shit, shit. The next day, when I see the mess of words sitting in the notepad or on my laptop, I just destroy it. I can’t deal with the embarrassment of even reading it.

I know that I get serious cases of sloppies because I can sympathize for the actor or figurehead who stumbles from his or her pedestal after a night of debauchery caught on camera. After hearing the scandalous story of Mel Gibson going on a drunken tirade through Malibu talking shit about Jewish people, my reaction wasn’t, “He is a racist scumbag.” It was, “Yikes, that shit turned for the very very worst.”

I doubt he is a card carrying racist, he probably had some question of the unknown, and maybe planted a seed of thought in his head, and then in a drunken rampage, took on a persona completely unlike his own, and sadly for him, it was all on candid camera.

I guess this is why so many people who live in the limelight are sober because the chances of going off the rails, and coming off as a racist psycho is very much in the cards, and that shit will ruin their career. Look at Mel, he was passed up on being in the Hangover 2 because of his drunken rampage, however, Mike Tyson, a convicted wife-beating rapist, was a perfectly suitable actor for the first movie in the series.

So when it gets to the point in the night where I think I should write a letter to an old friend, smoke cigarettes on the couch, listen to an old album while crying, and then watch a movie while tweeting out the minute-by-minute thoughts in my head, I can be thankful I have the freedom to go on a personal party without anyone watching.

I wish I was the kind of drunk who loved to laugh and then eat lots of food and fall asleep after thoughtfully using the potty, but I am not. When my star gets a little brighter, I am going to have to invest in a babysitter to see that I refrain from any social media. Hopefully, I will become more responsible. That’s on my list of things I visualize at night. It comes after winning the lotto because I got to get rich and famous before I start worrying about how to act when rich and famous.

Breaking the cycle

Riding a white rabbit