What I've Learned as OEN

Here's what I've learned since I first started Over-Educated Nympho in 2005. Now you'll know it too and you can pass it on to all your friends and maybe after a generation or two, all men will be proficient in giving oral sex to a woman. After all, sharing is caring! --slides down a rainbow squeeing all the way--

Dear Me

January 20, 2025, Portland, Oregon

Dear me at age 33, 

...still stuck in Houston, Texas with all the good ol' boys who think it's cute as grits that you know how to drive a truck. No wonder you ran like hell to a blue state.

First off, your ass still rocks a miniskirt, in spite of the cellulite underneath. Imagine me high-fiving you from the future (where there are no flying cars, but there are now multiple flavors of Nutella, and Tina Fey is president of the United States, so it's cool..) 

Secondly, you have got to be nicer to yourself. Stop beating yourself up for the mistakes you made, buck up, and go be awesome. Because that's exactly what happens. You pull yourself out of it and now I'm happy as fuck thanks to all the hard work you're about to do to get your shit together. Stick with therapy. You cry a lot so get the last session of the day or else your mascara smears so bad you look like a coke-addicted whore. But therapy's great.

Withdrawal

Your feet feel asleep. Dead. It’s so hard to walk when you can’t feel your feet, like you’re walking on faith, hoping that your feet instinctively know what to do even though you feel like you’re walking on stumps. Doing this in four inch heels is a goddamn obstacle course through a maze of cubicles.

Your hand shakes no matter how hard you try to hold it steady. Your handwriting is dreadful when you’re like this, and it looked “serial killer” to begin with.

But really it’s the vibrating. Your entire body is humming, vibrating—no, pulsating really, and each body part is doing so at a different rhythm. It’s like each individual part of you is manic at the same time, but separately. Your body no longer belongs to you.

Why I Drink

Hi. I'm Vix, and I'm an alcoholic.

The funny thing is that I drank very little in college and none at all in high school, minus the wine coolers my father let me drink while we watched "Star Trek: Next Generation." Alcoholism ran in the blood, but I figured if it hadn't hit me by the time I graduated college, I would be okay.

I was very, very wrong.

Is 'Hot Mess' Available on Blogspot?

Today I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. He was the one who officially diagnosed me as bipolar a year and a half ago when I was wiiiiiildly manic and swore I was a messenger of God (hey if you listen to my side, it made complete sense at the time (which is a book I plan on writing one day soon-ish)). He was also the one to tell me I was an alcoholic and needed to cut way the hell back. Which I did. But.