Life is Just So Damn Fabulous (the name of this blog) is attempting to post a brief profile on a weekly basis of New Yorkers that are accessible and have something (that I think is) interesting about their lives.
THE NEW YORKER I CHOSE TO PROFILE THIS WEEK: Lizzerbeth*
WHY I CHOSE TO PROFILE THIS NEW YORKER: I am interested in the personalities of those who exhibit all or nothing behavior as it relates to being in one’s 20’s and drinking in the big city. She was also hungover and I was hungover and it seemed like a good idea.
STATS: female, 24 years old, employed on a salary, stands 5′ 10″, resides in the East Village
Many people have addictive personalities, but there are a select few I know with all or nothing personalities.
The difference between the two is a matter of varying degrees of control. Addictive people latch on and become somewhat obsessed with something (as in, ‘Wow, lollipops are so good, I can’t stop eating them, I must have a lollipop for lunch every day’), while all or nothing people live a life of contrasts where ‘I’m never having a lollipop again!’ turns into “Shit, last night I ate 3 bags of Blow Pops in one sitting’.
Lizzerbeth is an all or nothing gal, I’ve found. I know people like this totally exist, but do you know someone who doesn’t drink for weeks and then goes at it like the world’s gonna end in a few hours? Perhaps it’s an odd behavior because I drink every day, I don’t know.
So I asked her a few questions about her blacking out this past weekend and why she woke up with scrapes and bruises:
So what the fuck happened?
After months of back breaking office work and realizing that summer has somehow come and gone without notice, I found Fun again in a Saturday night out with a mix of college, work, and Brooklyn friends. The night started out harmlessly enough, drinking wine, checking out my friend’s new apartment in Ft. Greene. Things shifted when we migrated to a party a few blocks away and I guzzled that one drink that shoves you way past the fuzzy line of any kind of sobriety. Ultimately, I somehow ended up alone and blackedout, on some endless taxi tour of Brooklyn.
What were you drinking?
White wine, tequila, more white wine, vodka and blood orange juice…
Did you lose anything?
My dignity. All personal documents and credit cards appear to have been salvaged.
Were things where they shouldn’t have been the next day?
I found Pirate Booty everywhere: laundry hamper, crushed into tiny bits on my floor and in the bathroom.
What did you eat when you got home?
I found filthy evidence of a Weight Watchers Smart Ones dessert, Soy Crisps, and vegetable Pirate Booty.
Lizzerbeth pours syrup on her breakfast during the morning after blacking out.
How much money do you think you spent that night?
Maybe $60? Mostly on transportation that I don’t remember to/from/around Ft. Greene, Williamsburg, and the East Village.
Do you remember saying anything to anyone that you later regretted?
Remember? No. However, I understand that I told someone that I loved him but could never have sex with him, flirted shamelessly with an old flame, and drunk dialed (and spoke to?!) an ex-boyfriend.
Did you learn anything from this experience that you’d like to share with others?
Do not wear 5 inch heels while drinking heavily and prancing aimlessly around Brooklyn. You will fall down. Also, some friends are better than others.
EXHIBIT A: Elbow wound
EXHIBIT B: Knee wound
Will you be drinking ever again?
Yes. My birthday is next week.
Hungover Lizzerbeth poses for a picture I forced her to take in a Toyota-sponsored Japanese garden in the East Village.
Anything else you want to say?
Thanks to my sister for talking to me 4 times that night and filling me in on what went on. Also, I think its worth noting what a good friend you are for dressing my bloody wounds, K-Unit.
No diggidy. Happy almost birthday, Lizzerbeth, your all or nothing ways are endearing, to say the least.
*subject’s name has been redacted
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