Hi, I'm Kurt. A binge-drinking, pill-popping disco diva with a heart of platinum and an appetite for self-destruction.
Welcome to Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 1 of 2).
Adapted from a collection of nightly...
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February 10
Got my morning workout in at the hotel, then went over to Disneyland Park with Mom. In a very random turn of events, Justin LeBlanc was also visiting LA from Toronto this week, which was a weird coincidence given his recent involvement in my whole chlamydia debacle. The passes my Disney friend gave me allowed for two more guests, so I invited Justin and his friend, Wyatt, to join us. Sharing the wealth, I guess. I was more than happy to do it.
Mom and I split from the boys as soon as we passed through the turnstiles. We walked around, did some rides, had lunch, and gorged on a variety of theme park food. I was beginning to get impatient with Mom at a certain point, but she went back to the hotel room to get something around that time, so I had a moment to get my shit together.
Here's the deal. What I get frustrated with is that I feel like Mom's literally always talking, but never really listening. If I thought it was an age thing, I would feel differently. Perhaps I'm in denial about that. I really do think it's simply an issue of her not listening to me, though. Mom will ask me the same question five times a day.
Fuck. As I'm writing this, I'm realizing all of this might actually be an age thing. Even if it's not, I'm still out of line. Shit. Now I feel like an asshole. Seeing Mom's back covered with those medical mystery spots this morning was already a lot for me to take in. Nothing bad is allowed to happen to her. My mom is the most important person in my life. I don't know what I would do without her. It's why I hate myself so much when I don't give her the respect I know she deserves.
While Mom was at the hotel, I crossed the esplanade and went over to California Adventure. After screaming my lungs out on the roller coaster, I went on The Little Mermaid ride three times in a row. I know it's ridiculous to be that enamored with a fairytale, but I don't care. It's my favorite movie in the entire world. I know every damn line and I love every minute of it. I always have, and I always will.
After a few hours alone, I met up with Mom at Disneyland Park and we reconvened with Justin and Wyatt to have dinner and watch the fireworks together. Fireworks are so romantic. I couldn't help but text Logan while watching them. Much to my surprise, he responded and we continued to exchanging messages throughout the night. At one point, Logan asked me how my day in the parks was. I responded, and then sent an extra "I miss you" text. That's when the conversation came to a screeching halt. Silence. I never got a message back. Why do I subject myself to this nonsense? I'm willingly entering a situation where someone consistently makes me feel like crap. It's so stupid.
Mom and I said goodbye to the boys, walked back to our hotel, and went to bed right away. It's been a blast, Disneyland! I'm excited for Vegas, but a part of me is itching to get back home so I can resume my routine and find a motherfucking J-O-B.
