And I thought I looked like hell today.

Apropos of nothing, a man told me today that he thinks I'd look great in handcuffs.  Um, thanks guy, but since we aren't screwing, or flirting maybe that's something you should have kept to yourself.  Or at least whispered very quietly, seeing as we were in my family friendly shop which was filled with happy little shoppers at the time.

Still its better than the woman who demanded to know how I landed a man as good looking as my husband.  Or the one who called me a cog in the corporate wheel.  Although I think she wanted me in handcuffs too, just for very different reasons.

FYI, I don't even own handcuffs . . .should I put up a donation jar?  I could call it my sexual restraint fund.

Just say. . huh?

I once was so stoned that I sat on the edge of the bed with a hot meatball sandwich and started watching Alice in Wonderland with the ex.  We started talking about a time we went to the mountains and I spaced out so badly that I thought we were at the mountains, talking about a time we were stoned on the bed, watching Alice in Wonderland.

I mean I'm not advocating drug use, but the moment when I came to and realized where I was and that the movie was almost over and the sandwich was cold, that moment is something that still makes me giggle, an embarrassing number of years later.  Not sure why that's relevant, but there you go.

Before you start a suicide watch

In light of recent moroseness and in celebration of my first drunk blog, I feel it is only fair to state that I do not need a prescription or a mood elevator, or therapy. Well not any more than any one else at any rate. I do in fact find a dozen reasons to be cheerful before 10, which believe me, is quite a feat, considering I hate mornings. Not the point though, we are doing things that make me happy today, not things that make me angry.


1- Woke up warm and snuggly and feeling loved.
2- Laid in bed listening to the sweet sounds of the girl child playing with dinosaurs in her room.
3- Woke without a hangover
4- Realized I could drunk text the ex and she would laugh and text back funny stuffs.
5- The girl child got dressed quickly, in a funky outfit sent to her by the ex.
6- The coffee shop takes credit cards, hello latte.
7- Girl child was extremely tickled that I got her a hot chocolate.
8- The songs on the radio were wonderful this morning.
9- I saw a woman scooted way over in the middle of the truck cab so she could be closer to her man.
10- My hippie friend typed “They was lustin' after mah truck!” to me. How very urban of her
11- Girl child asked her imaginary friend why ostrich eggs were so big. He knew the correct reasons because according to her “he is very intelligent”
12- It is warm and fresh and lovely outside, and even though I am in, I have HUGE windows.

Um, Happy St. Patricks Day?

Despite my best intentions to not turn this blog into a pathetic bitch feast, it is. I’m just sad, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be, but there is little to do for it. And tonight I am also a bit drunk, which makes me forget all the reasons I have to be happy. So here we go for the sad reasons. The baby is 5. 5 people. WTF?. . . . I did not, do not approve. I cannot. So there. It took me 3 years to get her. It took me a team of experts. It broke my spirit, it wreaked my heart, it stripped my sanity. But I got her, and she should have stayed little. I know she is wonderful and kind and better than I could have ever hoped, but she is 5. And that is just wrong.

Also, the ex is sad. Lonely and sad and I am not able to help. Not going to help. Just nodding and talking, but not going to rescue. Wanting to rescue, but not going to. She is also wonderful and kind, but she is not mine. I have my own life and I have to make it work. She is now just a good friend. And that is better than what I had last year. So it will do.

And the job is good. But it is restrictive. And I want more freedom. Days at the park, before the 5 year old is too old to care. Before I have lost my chance to be a good mom. Before she wants nothing to do with me.

I shouldn’t drink really. It just doesn’t mix.

For so many little reasons

I am having a bad week.

The child turns 5 soon.
My house does not feel like my home.
My mom is in town.
My mom is in town and I have to work.
Business has been slow today.
My jeans are too tight.
I need a haircut.
I need to wax my eyebrows.
I need to shave.
I need to get laid. (Hopefully after completing some of the above needs.)
We are out of Nutella.
I am very hungry right now.
I miss my friends who have gone away.
People I love are sick and I can’t take care of them.
People I love might forget about me soon.
I am tired of losing people.
I am tired of behaving like a selfish child over the whole damn thing.

Words cannot be found.

I found this when I was re-arranging my daughters room.

Yes, that is a bed post, and yes my bedroom door does have a lock on it. Not to be sexist, the man doll was similarly restrained on the adjacent post.

Thanks for always getting me in trouble

Are you cereal?. . Yeah I'm a frosted flake and you’re a fruit loop.

Would you like a leg with that?

I used to be just like you, then I had the stick removed.

Holy-God-fucking-son of a shit.

Hoooon-kie.

You drinkin’ young lady? . . . You buying officer?

We chased boys and each other, drove to fast, drank to much stayed out to late and did all the things we weren’t supposed to do. No wonder you look like hell. I still <3 you.  Happy Birthday.