Resetting Myself

Katy’s gone now, having left last Wednesday. I didn’t want to put a long goodbye to her on this post, since I’ve talked so much about her going already, but I did add one to her page as a postscript. If you’d like to read it, it’s here.

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Discovered something interesting the other day. I’m being trained to do Interlibrary Loans here at the Music Library, and though I’ve ordered things through the service before I’ve never actually used the system itself (in the Drinko Library, Circulation and ILL are two separate departments, but Music isn’t big enough to have special offices). Anyway, the ILL system uses OCLC, which probably doesn’t mean a damn thing to anyone reading this.

The interesting thing, though, is this: back in 1990, when I was working at the Dunbar Library at Wright State University in Dayton, I was on a project called the Union List. Now, this mind-numbing project involved creating an online database of every serial held by every college and university library in this country, along with several in Canada and overseas. And if I remember correctly, that database became OCLC after the project was finished. If I’m right, that would mean that I’m now working on a national system that I helped program 15 years ago. To me, that’s pretty damn cool, although it also makes me feel really old when my co-workers talk about how antiquated the system is.

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Enough of that, though. As I explained in the last post, I’m perfectly aware that the title of this blog states that it is about bar culture, not library culture, and I need to get back to that.

Actually, since Katy left I haven’t spent much time in bars. I did go to Remedies on Thursday night, though. Ran into some friends there. Tyler and Jennifer were hanging out, and Stroud was working. I got extremely drunk, but I’m not sure how, ‘cause I didn’t drink any more (or at least, not much more) than I usually would on a night with well specials. Got wasted, though.

Suffered some injuries, and I don’t know how. There’s a heavy black bruise across my upper back and the backs of both arms, and some kind of injury to the wrist that apparently has led to broken blood vessels; when I woke up on Friday there was hardly any bruise at all, but by Saturday night subcutaneous blood had spread completely over my palm and the inside of my wrist and was moving onto the back of my hand via the space between thumb and forefinger.

The main thing is a big, ugly, impressive head wound. I don’t remember that at all. But really, it isn’t unusual with head injuries to forget the circumstances surrounding them, alcohol or no alcohol. In fact, I’m wondering if maybe it wasn’t so much the booze as a slight concussion on Thursday night. I don’t think I was unreasonable at the bar (someone will let me know if I was, I’m sure), but I definitely was trouble later.

I have a very vague impression of walking the streets of Huntington very late, not really sure where I was or what I was doing. I know I sat on someone’s porch and talked for a while, but I don’t know whose. I also know that I nearly got in a fight in front of one of the frat houses on Fifth Avenue, and the only thing I remember about that is some guy telling me that I was the one causing all the trouble, which isn’t like me. I’m not a violent person. In fact, I'm probably one of the least-dangerous people you'll ever meet.

Anyway, I’m pretty sure that there was no fight. If there was, it was a very unusual one, in that I apparently won it without throwing any punches (no injuries to face, ribs, or knuckles). I suppose that’s possible, if I had a stick or something, but you’d think I’d remember that, wouldn’t you? And even with a stick, could I have won a fight while that fucked up? I mean, who would let a staggering, concussive drunk take him out?

The injuries seem to me to be more consistent with a fall. Not a stumble, you understand, but a fall from some minor height, over a porch railing or something, onto my head. But as I say, I don’t know what happened, and I don’t suppose I ever will.

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Anyway, I need to get my drinking back under control. It’s not only because of this incident on Thursday. My whole life has been getting out of control lately, and the parts of that that haven’t been actually caused by drinking have at least not been helped by it. I should just quit drinking; I know that, like every other alcoholic does, but I don’t want to, and don’t really believe I could if I did want to. So instead, I’m going to hold myself to one or two beers, once or twice a week. I do this occasionally; usually it…I don’t know, resets my system or whatever, and I’m okay again for a while.

I guess that last paragraph sounds kind of pathetic, the whole “don’t wanna, couldn’t if I did wanna” thing. That’s okay. Everyone who knows me, or who reads this post regularly, knows that I’m an alcoholic, and that I’m not ashamed of it. My great fear is that I might become a drunk, though…I can’t have that. (If you’re unaware of the distinction between drunks and alcoholics, but are interested, click here.) The main thing, the point of pride (such as it is) is that I can function as a normal human being in spite of my alcoholism, and lately that hasn’t been true. Outside of stupid, juvenile shit like Thursday night, my drinking has been affecting my work. I’ve never allowed that to happen before, and I’m not going to start now.

So, anyway, that’s part of why I haven’t had much to say on the bar culture front lately; haven’t been in bars much, and haven’t remembered much when I have been. But fear not, dear reader. The fact that I’m not drinking doesn’t mean that I won’t be in bars. Being in bars is what I do, after all; it’s essentially all I’ve ever done. And when I take my little breaks like this, I still go to bars. I just drink soda or orange juice while I’m there.

I was, in fact, in the Union on Saturday to see Mary Beth. I was there from 5:30 or thereabouts until a little after midnight (with a dinner break), and did very well. I had only two glasses of beer, from a communal pitcher. She and I were sitting with her boyfriend Nathan, as well as Mace, Stacy, Eric, Timmy, and someone whose name I believe was Kelly. They were playing a drinking game, and I joined in under protest, drinking Pepsi when I lost. Finally Mary Beth demanded I drink beer, but since I kept a low profile, that amounted to just over one glass, and then I went ahead and finished the second. So, I was reasonably well-behaved.

We’ll see how all this goes. You’ll all have to wish me luck with this, because it is never easy, but I’ve got some hopes, and maybe I can start putting myself back together again.