All posts by CarpeNoche

The Closure I Needed

So there’s this guy… the same one that’s been sprinkled throughout my previous blogs.

We were a solid and happy relationship for about a year and a half and mostly on and partly off for a year. So no matter how you math it, two and a half years is a long time.

With regular precision, I always got teary eyed and emotional when we had to say goodbye for a stretch of time. There are many occasions where I’ve cried at the airport. The thought of not seeing him for so long got to me no matter how hard I tried to keep it together. Distance broke us up more than once, and every time I dropped him off at the airport I knew it could be the last time we would ever see each other.

There was a lot of strain near the end and I saw the breakup coming from a mile away. We fought via text then ghosted each other at the same time, like cold turkey stopped talking to each other without discussing our problems.

I have never been so heart broken.

I cried myself to sleep on more occasions than I should have. I cried in the car. I cried in the shower. I counted up the days like a recovering alcoholic, just knowing that every day I went without talking to him would be one day closer to a happier me. I was completely emotionally exhausted.

I found myself curled up in a ball on my bed so often, just praying myself to sleep. God, please take this pain away. Please give me the strength to move on. I just want to be happy. I don’t want to love him anymore. I want to love myself again. All of this repeated over and over again just to feel better.

A couple of months later he drunk texted me saying that he missed me and blah blah. He caved first during our long silence and I felt good about it, but I wasn’t ready. Another month goes by and I was feeling a lot better about the situation – even starting to get over him. He mentioned wanting to come visit and I didn’t give him anything definitive to work with.

Flash forward a few months and I’m with my parents. They never really got briefed on the breakup so all they could do was ask questions about him and how he’s doing. It really got me missing him and he ended up booking a plane ticket to come see me.

We hung out and hooked up and fell back into our familiar patterns. I could tell that I’ve grown a lot as a person since our breakup. He gave me a certain nostalgic feel and it was comforting. I enjoyed 6 days of him in town, happy and normal, then took him to the airport.

I cried in the car on the way home… but it wasn’t because I was sad.

After he booked his plane ticket, I felt like I had made a mistake in encouraging him to visit. Like maybe I would suddenly fall back into his charm and have to start from ground zero. But seeing him again and feeling that change inside me was just the closure I needed. If I hadn’t seen him again I knew I would harbor that “what if I gave up the love of my life” feeling for years. But now I definitively knew that I was over him. Sometimes our decisions seem stupid and rash, but I know that this one happened for a reason. There were no more sad tears. I cried out of pure joy that my prayers for strength had been answered. It feels amazing to no longer feel bound by someone from your past. So for the very last time, I have cried over this guy. And maybe just maybe that will indeed be the last time I’ll ever see him.

I’m happily single and talking to a new guy now. He’s a jerk, but it’s something to work with.


Breakdancing and Drama

It was quite a night at The Neckbreaker 2016 Tour with Dirtyphonics, Funtcase, and Habstract. I gravitate more towards the bouncy sounds of progressive house, so this crowd was very… hard. But this was a great thing. No one gave a flying fuck what you did in that audience.

There were people headbanging (obviously), breakdancing, bouncing and fist pumping, shuffling, and honestly just making shit up. I went for the Macarena and it seemed to be a crowd favorite. However, the prime people watching involved the young cougars hoping to hunt some easy prey in a skin tight dress and heels. They really picked the wrong night to try. They honestly didn’t know what to do with the dancing and no one was interested in what they had to offer. 90% of the crowd was there purely for the music that night.

But you guys are here for the drama.

Black guys aren’t my thing, but one of them kept trying to dance with/on me. Luckily, I’m a pro distancer and held my own long enough for him to get the hint. Then his crew started break dancing against another crew. I’d like to think it was an elaborate mating display to woo me, but that’s just my ego typing. It was cool for a few minutes then someone got pushed and suddenly the camaraderie face-planted. It was shove city in the middle while security wrestled the people away from each other. They all got unceremoniously kicked out of the club.

…But they chose to stick around outside.

When I left the club, these two groups were still loitering (to put it lightly) and fighting (to put it accurately). Please guys, no need to fight over me. Most people, including myself, stood around waiting for something cool to happen. Then 10 cop cars showed up simultaneously on both sides of the road, creating a well-lit and video-recorded arena for all these ruffled feathers.

A guy from the fray sprinted away mumbling “I got a record, man,” and as far as I can tell they let him continue on his scenic nighttime jog. He lived happily ever after… probably not the rest of his friends though.


Welcome back, fam

I’m not sure what happened, but this blog is suddenly popular again. Welcome. I dropped this blog mainly because life, but I can get y’all all caught up with this long story short:

  • I finished up that stellar internship without getting fired.
  • I rounded out my final year in college with all A’s and regular margaritas.
  • I interviewed for a company that took me to lunch, where everyone got drunk.
  • I knew I found my future professional home and agreed to the job.
  • I packed all my shit into a car and moved to a city where I knew literally no one.
  • I spend most of my afternoons on this rigorous drinking schedule:
    • Monday: bar trivia and beer
    • Tuesday: bar trivia and beer
    • Wednesday: my night off, water
    • Thursday: bar poker and dancing in the club (all alcohols welcome)
    • Friday: float day, DIY drinking plans
    • Saturday: dance club
    • Sunday: GAME OF THRONES

If anyone’s interested in my last few months, I’ve been blogging about how to lose weight without giving up alcohol.

Spoiler Alert: you don’t.


Intern Life

So this summer I’m living with a bunch of fellow interns in a dorm in a shitty town. We frolic a lot and it’s quite enjoyable.

Last night I had 11 drinks and took shots with a big-deal TV anchor. I drunk hula hooped. I danced. I got followed around by a creeper. I had to pee 5,000 times. I walked into the middle of the road. I blacked out. Apparently I’m hilarious. Made so many advances on this other intern, even though we’re both taken. But he’s a nice guy and my boyfriend doesn’t communicate that much, so that’s an interesting situation. 

I woke up to a call from my supervisor: “Where are you?”

Spent the whole day at work drunk/hungover. Killing it. 

Go me. 

Hot Tub Club

Happy finals week! I’m that bitch at the pool that’s already done while everyone else is indoors studying their lives away. 

My red solo cup was filled with popsicles and rum yesterday. 

Then I built my own pizza and sipped some beers at a sorority family dinner. 

Then I went to a Mexican restaurant and ordered a monster margarita. 

Then I proceeded to pass out at an early 10pm. The alcohol won.  

When my roommate tried to communicate with me around midnight, I told her she “wasn’t allowed in the hot tub club.”


I wish I knew what that was. 

“We Will Go Down With This Ship”

So I went on a fraternity beach weekend. The first night was an exciting shitshow. We frolicked around the beach and did some miscellaneous shenanigans. I crossed new experiences off my bucket list. 

We snuck into a neighbor’s hot tub. 

I skinny dipped in the ocean. 

I slept on an air mattress that really didn’t want to cooperate. 

The next day we participated in a datelock party. My date, a bandana, and a fifth of Bacardi was interrupted by cops. 

We dumped out so much alcohol it made me want to cry. Half the people peaced out that night. We chose to go down with the ship. 

We visited some friends in the local area the next morning and spent the day getting shwasted. I frolicked around the beach in my underwear because I didn’t bring a swimsuit. Go me. 

I loved it. 

My bad.

So formal was this weekend. I dressed in my neon, sequined, tribal patterned dress and proceeded to drink.

Finished a fifth, grabbed some tequila. Made it to formal.

Tore up the dance floor with my adorable date. Started to feel sick from all the movement. After a failed attempt to locate a bathroom, I ended up throwing up right as I walked in. Apparently some of that got on a sister. Go me.

They shipped me right back to the campus on the first bus home. I cried the whole way. Then jumped into the shower – dress and all.

Boyfriend joined me in the shower as I bawled my eyes out and questioned my life choices.

Recovered from the situation – just in time for him to also get sick. Man, we make a grand pair 😉


At least I got a good Instagram picture.

Life is a Party

Some highlights from this weekend:

Gained a boyfriend. Lost some bragging rights. 

Made Jell-O shots. Played shot roulette and got white girl wasted. 

Some friends came to town. I’m sure they thought I was mega popular. Everywhere we went people were yelling my name. 

Had a blast at the KS slip n’ slide. Ventured to DSPLXA for a foam party. Avoided ZL1. 

Hung out at the giant puddle that was the KA slip n’ slide. 

Chugged some platinums. Downed some jello. 

Drunk makeup. Went to the school’s concert. Fought to the front of the crowd and just kind of fell asleep. But that’s ok. I saw it all on Snapchat and from what I heard, it wasn’t even that great. 

Apparently I started running with my BFF and we just kind of fell onto some people. Good stuff. 

Carolina Cup

Dressed up in a lovely red romper and a black sunhat from Walmart. Boarded a bus to the Carolina Cup at 6 in the morning. 

Commenced drinking Effen in Bloody Mary’s. Witnessed some miscellaneous shenanigans. 

When we arrived, we frolicked through the rain. I met a KA from another school that went to my high school. Danced on top of some random party bus. Strategically peed in gross port-a-potties. Fuck umbrellas; acquire rain jackets. 

Drank the juice. 

Danced around with my FWB. Ended up in pictures I don’t recall. Had conversations I also don’t recall. Perhaps I saw horses: I don’t recall. Kept hearing horror stories of our people getting drinking tickets. 

Made it back to the bus. Alex from Florida was covered in mud because he stole a PKP cooler. Cuddled with my FWB the whole way back. Dismounted the bus with some extra bags and a phone from a girl that goes to USC. 

A friend took us to a mexican restaurant. Went to bed at FWBs place around 8pm. Ignored his ever-ringing phone. 

Threw up. Too hungover to sleep till about 6am. Woke up at 7:20am to shoot a class project. FML. 

Mostly fine till 4pm, then I started throwing up again. Stopped around 10pm. Broke my longest record for a hangover: 26 hours.