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.