What to do?

I am beginning to think Stephanie never gets on here....
Brandon, I love your stories...maybe this will brighten your day.

I'm officially 26. Crazy. This year so far has been really trying for me and full of a LOT of shit. I'm not sure what to say or do about it. I officially moved home 5 months ago yesterday, which was incidentally Zoe's first birthday. I didn't do a weird dog birthday party for her, although I considered it. Instead, my friends threw me a week-late themed birthday party. It was 80s themed and fucking fantastic. I loved it. I posted pictures on Facebook, and there will be more soon. Last week, on my actual birthday, I had another party. I refer to this as my party with my "young friend" and last night was with my "grown up friends."

During my party last weekend with my young friends, I had my first ever black out experience from drinking. Hell, I guess if you're going to have one, it might as well be on your birthday...even if you are turning 26, which seems like a ridiculous age to have such an occurrence, but whatever. That's what happens when you drink half a bottle of Patron...yikes. I remember taking about ten shots, and I guess I took about six more that I don't recall. It's weird. Since it happened, I think a lot about how I looked. Since I don't remember it at all, I think I must have looked weird or like I was out of focus. People tell me I just looked drunk and was slurring my words--no surprise there. I really don't remember anything after around 11:30 p.m., and I guess I went to bed right around 2:30 a.m. Yeesh...that's a lot of lost time.

When I woke up on Sunday morning, my first three thoughts were: how the hell did I get in this room? Why in the world does my throat hurt? Why the fuck are my pants unbuttoned? Seriously. That's some kind of party...

This is what I've been told happened: I did some dancing, sometimes on people, took shots, and convinced people to take shots with me. I played a game of beer pong, which I only remember starting. This guy, Travis, I guess broke the windown in the garage and I dumped the glass on his head as he bent to pick up some pieces. I also bit him on the arm. Who knows my reasoning for that. Then I guess I went to the bathroom and puked, all the while, telling Vinny all about how much I hate throwing up and how miserable it made me. I guess after about 30 minutes of this, he peeled me off the floor and took a wobbly Jer to his bedroom (this is a whole other aspect I need to discuss in this post) and then I guess I went straight to his bathroom to pee. I didn't button my pants when I returned to the bed, and just crawled up in the corner in a ball. I guess he grabbed me by one arm and one leg and pulled me into a normal sleeping position...God bless him for that. So, my three initial questions have been answered. I love that I have no memory of throwing up, as I actually do hate that. However, it scares the shit out of me that I can't remember.

My grown up friend party was similar...I was drunk by 10:30 p.m., which is when we decided it would be a good idea to go to the bar Good Company in our 80s attire. Needless to say, people actually stopped in the middle of their conversations to open-mouth stare at us when we entered. It made for great times. I really enjoyed both of my parties. I suppose I deserve it. Last year, B and I celebrated it together. He came home at 8pm, because he bought my gift that day after school. We had pizza and went to the bar. What a thrilling birthday. This year I had two amazing parties. I feel lucky. I am lucky. My adult friends from this group were actually my friends he introduced me to. I love that they are still my friends and talk with me.

Now, I really do have a situation on my hands...which is why the title of my post is what it is.

Get ready for some news...are you ready? Good. Here it is: I'm dating this guy. Is this earth-shattering news? No. However it does make things interesting. His name is Vinny. Yes, we've had sex...let's raise my number, again, shall I? Ugh...I'm a slut. Crimney.

Anyway, if that wasn't enough, let me tell you about my ordeal with him. He's 22. I'm 26. Yep four years different. He actually graduated from high school (my old high school and where I taught) the year I graduated from college. Now, for the weird factor: he was a student when I was tutoring in the school that year. I didn't tutor for him, but he knew me. He tells me now that he had a crush on me then. Yeesh...this cements the fact that I now know of at least three previous "students" who have had crushes on me. But, I digress. Anyway...it's just kind of weird. I told him I didn't want to be Mary Kay Laterneauish. He laughed. He also lives with B's brothers who live in Colorado, so three of the four live with him. Add another element of stress and weird. Although I love those boys, and they love me...so I guess it's not so bad.

When we first discussed what was happening between us, these were his actual words: "I know this isn't what the guy normally says, but I don't just want this to be sex. I want to be in a relationship with you." My response: "I'm sorry, but I don't. (I'm such a bitch.) I just got out of a bad relationship and I need time to heal. I just from relationship to relationship and I just need to focus on healing me." That was July 2nd.

Vinny could not be sweeter. If I wanted to be in a relationship, he'd be a good choice. He spoils me and I'm not even sure how to deal with that, since that hasn't happened in years. He always gets me my favorite beer and keeps it for me. He takes care of me when I'm shit faced drunk. However, I just don't know. I don't want to deal with another boy who has a mid-20s melt down and then I'm alone again. However, he's growing on me. I enjoy being with him and have stayed the night at his house (I usually drive home around 3am unless it's a weekend) like three nights this past week. Last night, after the 80s party, I went there. No, I didn't invite him. Is that bitchy? Probably a little. It's just those people were B's friends originally, and I don't want to bring him around unless he's a keeper. Does that make sense?

Ugh...I feel so conflicted. I guess I'll just enjoy what I've got and see what happens.

I should get to bed. I feel like this doesn't make much sense, and could be much better worded than this, but I just can't get my brain to work. I've worked 20 hours of overtime in the past week. I'm exhausted.

Holy moly...life is just crazy.