Confessions of a Hot Mess

Hey there, world. Long time no word from me, huh? Things have been pretty crazy over the last six months—school, moving back to my country of origin, work, more school—and that’s really gotten in the way of writing about all my hot messiness. Don’t you fret though, just because I haven’t written doesn’t mean I haven’t been having adventures. David Bowie-themed parties replete with glitter and cocaine; impromptu road trips; art gallery openings; wine tastings and coffee cuppings; throwing up all over my boyfriend’s car. Yes, it’s an exciting time to be a hot mess in the world right now, and I’m sure I could enlighten you with details until you wept from the sheer beauty of all these escapades. But that is not what I’m here to do today, friends.

Today on Confessions of a Hot Mess, our Hot Mess is going to actually confess something she wishes to be absolved of. Something really, really horrible. Something that went down in either late July or early August, but the exact date (or week) of which, our heroine can’t quite remember….

Last summer my best friend lived in an old crack house with a bunch of other dudes. It was the perfect beat-up old house to throw parties in, and being irresponsible twenty-somethings, that’s what they did. At one of these parties, in either late July or early August, I got way too drunk. You know, shit happens.

I was sleeping in my friend’s bed, but around 7 I woke up and realized I was way thirsty. I went upstairs to the kitchen to get some water. In the sink were a bunch of clean dishes, and I took a cup from in there, then once I had my water, I sat at the kitchen table and stared at all the random magnets and notes on the fridge.

And then I had to puke.

So I did, in the nearest receptacle of any kind—which happened to be the sink. I puked, and as I puked, I realized that I was puking all over all the clean dishes in the sink. Not wanting to clean them (and being too drunk still to even do that without breaking them, probably), I shambled back downstairs and passed out again, but not before trying to tell my friend that some gross person had puked in his sink.
“Oh gross,” my friend said.
“I think it was Julia,” I said.
“That bitch.” And then we both went back to sleep.

Anyway, that’s my really shocking confession: I, not that bitch Julia, puked in the sink on all the clean dishes. Sorry guys!

(May we just point out for legal reasons that we do not condone drug use of any kind on any level, and that the writings of 'Hot Mess' do not reflect the values of Shiny & New in any way. We do find it very funny though, and completely amazing. - Ed.)