Monday, July 27, 2009

Babysitters Club

My romantic life might have leprosy, but I have managed to excel in at least one area of personal relationships: friendships. I don’t want to brag, but I might have the best friends that anyone has ever had. And this becomes more apparent when one gets dumped and the friends start coming out of the woodwork to put you back together and medicate you with jager. Ya, I’m feeling a little emotional right now and it’s probably 50% because of my uterus and 50% due to the 3 day bender I just experienced, but still. I love my bitches.

I haven’t been awake very long and it’s 4pm. Why is the room moving? My liver aches.

Where was I?

Right. Friends.

I’m somewhat disastrous in the best of circumstances. I don’t pay my bills. I can’t drive. I once left a bowl of tuna salad in the fridge for 16 months because it got mouldy, came to life, and I was scared to touch it. My sister discovered the tuna beast one day while she was looking for ketchup. By that point it had hardened into a solid black puck. She screamed and made me get rid of it while she watched with fearful, judgy eyes. I cried.

My point is that, in the best of times, I’m not sure how I get through life. And now, in a time of emotional upheaval, I pretty much need people to keep me from dying 24/7. I call them my babysitters.

On Friday I was feeling slightly overwhelmed about the world. Due to a case of the sads, I had been in bed for about 3 days. BadInfluence staged an intervention. He drove over, picked me up, took me to buy cat food so I could stop feeding Milo Kraft Singles, took me to the LCBO to buy my medicine, took me to Starbucks to take the suicide edge off, and then brought me back home and literally cleaned my apartment top to bottom. I’m talking shook out the carpets and beat the couch cushions. He had to sweep the floor 6 times. It’s kind of humbling to see your breakup mess through another person’s eyes.

BadInfluence: Why do you have three dirty sweatshirts in a pile in the middle of the floor?
ThePeach: To hide the crap underneath.
BadInfluence: *picks up sweaters* Why do you have approximately 37 dollars in nickels, ten crumbled receipts, and a mouldy coffee mug hidden under all these sweaters in the middle of your floor?
ThePeach: To hide the cat puke stain underneath.
BadInfluence: *sweeps aside the crap* How long has this puke been here?
ThePeach: Two weeks.
BadInfluence: I really kind of hate you right now.

And yet he scrubbed out the puke stain and put the loose change in a gravy boat on my dresser. Heart.

QueenB and Workohol came to visit from TheBigCity for the weekend. They took me out, fed me, stocked my fridge, stocked my liquor cabinet, and scrubbed my kitchen from floor to ceiling. Even the inside of the fridge. They had to go to the store to buy cleaning products and dish rags. What is wrong with me? I have a sickness.

We had an awesome weekend. We went out both nights and spent Saturday on a patio drinking Sangria and being surly. My two favourite things. I love going out with those two because they don’t take shit from anyone. They’re getting drinks bought for them by the hottest guys in the bar and then telling them to run along like good boys while I’m getting ass-raped on the dance floor by an Albanian with a pot belly. I finally detached myself after he grabbed my hips, thrust my ass onto his Albanian erection, and whispered: “Yeah. I know you like that. I have a big package.”

No thank you, sir.

My favourite was when we left the bar and went to get pizza. Some guy – not unattractive – came up to QueenB on the street and literally started serenading her with James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful.” QueenB glared at him, barked “ARE YOU HOMELESS?” and then marched away. Love her.

My bitches had to drive back home yesterday, but not before they left me with a fridge full of vegetables and every dish in my house sparkling.

I was sad again after they left. It didn’t help that I saw FauxHawk for lunch. I know. I’m a masochist. I don’t want to talk about it.

I was back in bed by 7:30pm with no intention to get up for at least 48 hours. And that’s when BadInfluence came back over with a stack of DVDs and the threat of a punch to the face if I didn’t at least put on sweatpants and relocate to the couch. So I listened to him and wound up drinking gin until 5am. He always knows exactly what I need to buck up.

The thing about breakup depressions is that, sometimes, they’re kind of hilarious. BadInfluence has seen some pathetic shit out of me lately. Like when he was helping me clean and asked why I have a line of pillows down the middle of the bed.

ThePeach: Um, you know…it feels like a person is in there with me.
BadInfluence: …*screams with laughter*
ThePeach: I hate you.

Yesterday was a gem. He was hungry so I looked in the fridge to find him a snack. I pulled out a tiny chocolate bar with exactly one small bite missing. It was sitting on a large plate. I guess it looked kind of pathetic.

ThePeach: Would you like a bite of my chocolate bar?
BadInfluence:…I think this is the saddest thing I’ve seen in your house so far. And I’ve seen a lot of sad things here lately.
ThePeach: *looks at the tiny chocolate bar on the massive plate*…*screams with laughter*

We literally rolled on the floor laughing for about 10 minutes. Tears were streaming down my face. Jesus. I really am pathetic.

I woke up this morning (ie. 2pm) with a headache like Lucifer himself was gnawing at my brainstem. I couldn’t even stomach coffee. I had to hold onto the side of my desk and take deep breaths just so I wouldn’t fall over. And then of course I checked my facebook. Oh, look. A public wall post from FauxHawk’s mother.

“Hi, Peach. I was very sorry to hear FauxHawk’s news. Please take care.”

And this is why I drink. And also a shining example of why no one over age 45 should have facebook.

My life is becoming a comedy of errors. I can’t even wake up at 2pm with a raging hangover – like any respectable person – and have a normal morning. I guess this is why I have a blog. My life is not normal. By the way, my readership has nearly doubled since I got dumped.

You sick bastards.



Anonymous said...

Lovely. Just lovely.

Sounds like you had at least a little bit of fun drinking with the girls and BadInfluence over the entire weekend. You certainly are lucky to have friends like him and those two girls.

Spaz said...

I'm jealous! I want to nurse you back to health! Sigh. Do you think you'll still be mourning when I get back? I'll make curry every day.

alicia said...

haha I suppose I'm one of those sick bastards!! The same thing happened to me when I was blogging about a break up.
Anyways, you are hilarious and your friends sound amazing :) I hope you find calm after the storm! (too cliche?)

The Peach said...

Dear Anon: I had lots of fun with my friends this weekend! I am tres lucky.

Dear Spaz: I'm sure I'll still be mourning. And if not I'll still eat daily curry. It will be good for my bowels. Come home!

Dear Alicia: I just read most of your blog and I think you might be my cooler, hotter twin. Like if I had awesome hair and didn't dress like the homeless, maybe I could be you. Are you Italian? Let's be friends.

Marlee said...

hahaha "you sick bastards" I love it because it's so true. All the lurkers make an appearance once shit hits the fan. Got your link from Danielle and Tania, Glad you enjoyed Vancouver... even if it ended in a very shitty manner. At least you're bouncing in between the sweat pant/going out getting wasted phase... that's usually a good sign.

AsianCymbals said...


God your pain is so hilarious. And I love QueenB, that bitch rocks.

Will be in town in two weeks, btw. We should grope or something?