{"id":175,"date":"2012-01-06T09:21:27","date_gmt":"2012-01-06T17:21:27","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kimwetter.com\/?p=175"},"modified":"2012-01-06T09:21:27","modified_gmt":"2012-01-06T17:21:27","slug":"i-regret-nothing","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/?p=175","title":{"rendered":"I Regret Nothing"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
\"Derek<\/a>

Derek and I<\/p><\/div>\n

Below is the first guest post submission by my good friend Derek (see picture to the right):<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

I’m slumped over the railing at 631 11th Ave.
\nAnd my hands grip wildly at the rain-soaked metal bars.The third heave of vomit comes up like an angry geyser,
\nbut I feel so much better after it.
\nThe fourth is like the cherry on this vomit cake.<\/div>\n

Delightful.<\/p>\n

The rain that’s beating down on the back of my neck
\nalso slices through the orangish mixture
\nspewed artfully onto the sidewalk.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s art. It\u2019s New York City. Duh. Fashion.<\/p>\n

Cookies with orange juice probably wasn’t a good idea
\nfor my drunchies, but they tasted good on the way down,
\nand they gave me something to do while I waited for the L train.<\/p>\n

That is, before I scurried back out of the subway station,
\nthinking I was going to puke. I caught a cab back after that.
\nI left my umbrella in that cab. Shit.<\/p>\n

And yes, \u201cscurry\u201d is the most accurate word to describe
\nhow I exited the subway. I scurried. Jesus.<\/p>\n

Did I pee my pants or was the eave dripping water on me while I was sleeping?
\nOh yeah, it was the eave. Because that\u2019s when the guy walking his golden retriever
\nasked if I had a place to go tonight.
\n\u201cI\u2019m not homeless,\u201d I think I responded.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m sassy like a honeybadger<\/a> now.
\nBut I recall being grateful. Amazed, even. Grateful at this man\u2019s kindness.<\/p>\n

My thoughts of the man are interrupted
\nby the fifth heave of vomit. It’s not much,
\nbut it feels good to know that my stomach is empty.<\/p>\n

Finally.<\/p>\n

How many people saw me sleeping on the stoop before Cailtin got there?<\/p>\n

Oh, Caitlin.<\/p>\n

She’s rubbing my back telling me it’s OK.
\nI need her to tell me that.
\nI need her encouragement for the
\nsix flights of stairs we’re about to climb.<\/p>\n

I might as well climb a mountain.
\nI wouldn’t know the difference.<\/p>\n

Not that I’d remember even if I did.<\/p>\n

Fucking New York.<\/p>\n

I don’t remember taking my shoes off, but when I open my eyes, I’m gripping the rim of the toilet.
\nMy eyes are open, but I don’t see anything.
\nI just feel the porcelain. I feel its whiteness.
\nI can smell the chemicals Cati used to clean it
\nearlier today.<\/p>\n

Fucking thank God she cleaned it earlier today.
\nCan you imagine? I begin to vomit at the thought.
\nNothing comes up.<\/p>\n

Everyone loves a dry heave.<\/p>\n

Her glittered, ethereal hand descends from the heavens
\nand opens up to reveal the ambrosia of drunkenness.
\nIbuprofen.<\/p>\n

Fucking give me three.
\nToo bad I’m not sure if I can hold down this water.
\nI spit into the toilet.
\nI gag myself.
\nDeepthroating my own pointer finger.
\nI must look really hot.<\/p>\n

I close my eyes and open them. I’m lying on the bed,
\nspooning a cleaning bucket.<\/p>\n

My mouth tastes bad.
\nHow many hours have passed?
\nDaylight pours in the window just like last night when I…
\nNo.
\nI can\u2019t think about it or I might vomit again.<\/p>\n

I turn over. The night pieces itself back together every
\ntime I cover my eyes to block out the sun.
\nMy jeans feel stiff and uncomfortable.
\nMy shirt smells like mistakes.<\/p>\n

I\u2019m never drinking again.
\nNot once in a million years.
\nAnd by years I mean milliseconds.<\/p>\n

So long as those milliseconds don\u2019t last past
\nnext Saturday<\/a>.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Below is the first guest post submission by my good friend Derek (see picture to the right):   I’m slumped over the railing at 631 11th Ave. And my hands grip wildly at the rain-soaked metal bars.The third heave of vomit comes up like an angry geyser, but I feel so much better after it. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":177,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"spay_email":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[244,422,445,658],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i1.wp.com\/kimwetter.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2012\/01\/knd.jpg?fit=451%2C604&ssl=1","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/175"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=175"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/175\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/177"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=175"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=175"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kimwetter.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=175"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}