As indicated by the lack of many strike-throughs on my to-do list, I hardly got anything done this weekend. Instead, I spent a lot of it partying, sleeping, and being dazed and confused about life.

Usually when I am confused about life, I am complaining about how I lack direction professionally/career-wise. This time, for once, I am not going around in circles because I am debating where to go academically, educationally, schooling-wise, etc. etc. I am dazed and confused about the sudden turn in my social life, my precipitous transition from “quiet night with thoughts of marriage on my mind” to “party party party like there’s no tomorrow and no looking behind.”

This self-reflection was brought on by the fact that, while trying to explain to someone why I didn’t have time to meet up this weekend, I myself realized, and ultimately became quite embarrassed by, just how ridiculously much I party and drink now-a-days. It goes completely against the shan of yesteryears who frowned upon clubbing (in fact, I used to hate clubs), bar-hopping, drinking, and general debauchery. I am torn between letting loose/having fun and being ashamed at having an image of “hard core party girl who drinks like a fish.” I have always looked down on people with that image, and here I am, building up my reputation for that exact image I shunned in others while sitting on my high horse a couple of years ago.

I look back on this weekend, and it consisted of a blur of nightclubs, pubs, beers, drinks, and men. Imagine one of those music-infused collage sequences you see in the movies: heavy metal banging in the background as disco lights flash and the camera cuts from one party to the next to the dancefloor to the scantily-clad beautiful people gyrating their hips to dim lighting to the drinks to the bar to waking up the next morning groggy-eyed with the sun beating down on the pillow. That’s about how my weekend went Friday AND Saturday nights. Sunday, I suddently felt that perhaps life ought to have a bit more meaning than partying and going out. Partying seems so superficial. But then again, what more meaning is there a need for when I am simply doing things that I enjoy, that make me happy?

There is also a second part to the daze (and confusion) of this weekend, but since I strive to keep this blog abstract and general, I will skip the second part. (Don’t you hate it when people do that? When they say that they know something, but then say that they can’t tell you what it is? Yeah, I always hated that, too. But if you have talked to me recently, like REALLY honest-to-goodness talked to me, then I have probably already told you, to more excruciating detail than you ever cared to know, what this second part is about. So quit moaning and complaining and accusing me of withholding information! ;)).