PMS & Turkey: Thanksgiving for Cootie

I’m 32 years old. At this point in my Life I’ve finally made peace with my period. Or, at least, as much peace as one with a relatively healthy reproductive system can make with it anyway. I never can freaking remember when that magical date is each month that it’s supposed to start, but X can recite it at a moment’s notice (he is the best husband ever, have I mentioned that?). However, I do know when I tear up at fucking AT&T commercials, it’s coming soon.

Last week on Thursday was Thanksgiving. On Wednesday I started my period. Needless to say, I cried a lot last week. I don’t fight it like I used to. Don’t get angry about it or try to hide it wrapped in something else. I’m a girl. I get hormonal. Whoop-dee-fucking-do.

At this point in my Life, in addition to being ok with the insanity of crying for no REAL FUCKING REASON for at least a week out of every month, I’m finding myself being comfortable with a lot of things I never was before. I’m moody, that’s ok. I’m getting better at recognizing triggers for my mood swings. When I feel like it, I let them go. When I don’t, I don’t. I understand now that is my choice. I have a corny sense of humor & I laugh loudly. I cackle even. It’s a wicked sort of appreciative laugh. I am indulgent of my own whims and the whims of those I love. Self discipline isn’t really in my vocabulary. As a result, my weight yo-yo’s between 150 to 175 depending on the time of year & my stress levels. Additionally, my accounting skills leave something to be desired.  I hate balancing the checkbook. So I really just don’t. We fly by the seat of our pants with our bank accounts and sometimes have to pay for it.  I drink a lot. More than some, less than others.  I cuss like a sailor.  A pirate even. Some people are REALLY uncomfortable with that and I have a difficult time censoring myself… especially around those people.  I love my family. They are very conservative Christians and we have very different views on Religion & Politics, but I love them. And they Love me. I’ve missed having a good relationship with them over the past… oh… 17 or 18 years. I’m glad to be developing that with them again now.  All of these things, and more, make up who I am.

If I like you, if I’m interested in you at all, I want you to like me. I have a propensity for behaving/talking/acting in a way that will make you like me. I’m pretty good at it. I guarantee that if I have met you, I’ve done it with you at some point or another. At this point of my Life, I don’t want to do that anymore. I don’t want to pretend 8 hours a day 5 days a week at work. I don’t want to pretend around people who are supposed to be my friends. I don’t want to pretend around family. And I ESPECIALLY don’t want to come home and pretend. So I don’t anymore. Well… I still have to at work sometimes. All of us has to sacrifice a bit of ourselves on the altar of  Corporate America at some point and time. It brings in a paycheck.

I spent all last week contemplating the things I am thankful for this year and crying… a LOT. Every time I’d think about it, I’d cry. I cried at work.  I cried at home. I cried in the car.  And then I got blitzed on Sangria and sat on our couch and flat out WEPT at Fiddler on the Roof then passed out… still on the couch.

So, with no further ado, at this point in my Life (drum roll) I am thankful for:

• My Friends:  They are Awesome. Hoodie Mafia, Hoodie Triad, Hoodie Family, and most recently, Hoodie Mafia UK; my out of state friends (whom I don’t get to see or talk to nearly often enough) SpiritWheel Coven, my Weasels in Hotlanta, Skan & Steph in AR, my dear Jack in KY;  my Belle & Bella; and all my Twitter & Facebook peeps; you are smart & funny & inspirational. I depend on you on a regular basis for support & entertainment. Thank you for being part of my Life. Thank you for sharing your Lives with me. I appreciate you so very much. Thank you for loving me for me.
• My Family: Mom, the older I get the more I think I’m like you. I think about you daily and I hope that you know how much I love you. Dad, I’m still a Daddy’s girl. Every time you smile at me I feel proud & happy. Lauren, I love you so much.  I miss you. I hope one day we can be close again. Alisha, you are my little sister. I am SO glad that, after all these years, we are building a relationship. It means so much to me I don’t even have the words to express it. I know I’m difficult. I know sometimes I’m blunt & undiplomatic. I know I’ve done some crazy stuff over the years and made no apologies for it. But through it all, you have loved me. You have never turned your backs on me. Even when you didn’t understand where in the World I was coming from, you stood by me.  Thank you.
• The Loves of my Past: Gods…that sounds like some cheesy movie title doesn’t it? But I am thankful for each and every one of the people that I have loved & lost in the past. My first husband created Punky with me. You loved me with an intensity that would set a standard in my mind that I wouldn’t recognize until many years later. J, you were my best friend. Sometimes I still think about the days of driving around East Knox county in your little silver pick-up truck, listening to Nirvana and smoking camels. You taught me what it meant to embrace the simple things in Life and be carefree & indifferent to those things beyond my control. Rain, you…well, you were the one that got away. You were the only person I ever wanted, pursued, and didn’t get. You were smart & strong, creative & spunky. I looked up to you so much. And you are still my Friend, which is wonderful beyond words. My second husband, you were my Teacher. You helped me gather some of the most basic building blocks for my Spiritual Path. You taught me everything I know about Ritual. You encouraged my love for road trips, introduced me to hard liquor & BDSM, you opened the door for me to be the geek that I am today.  You taught me how to be cynical & hard. You crushed my naivete.  K & J…I fear this is still too close for me to be completely objective about…but you took me in at a time when I was shattered, vulnerable, hungry & hurting.  In bringing me into the Collective, you probably helped me more than anyone else to develop my understanding and appreciation of myself as an individual.
• My kids: Punky, we’ve been through some shit, you & me. I haven’t always been there for you like I wanted to be. I haven’t always put you first like I wanted to. I haven’t always been able to buy you the things you wanted, and sometimes I haven’t been able to buy you the things you need. I’m not about to win any Mother of the Year awards, I know this. But you make me feel like the best Mother in the World.  I am so proud of you… sometimes just looking at you makes my heart swell so much I don’t think I can bear it.  B, our Walk together is just beginning. I have adored you since the first time you walked into my home, hiding behind your Dad, trying to make yourself small. You are fun & funny & amazingly intelligent. I am thrilled to be in your Life & I love you for accepting me and blessing me with your affection.
• My X: My husband, my Beloved, my High Priest, Brother, best Friend, Lover, my Knight of Cups, my King Mob, my Partner, the Love of my Life, my Last One, Darlin’; and all of the other names that I have, and have not yet, given you. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. You Love me without fail. You are patient & kind. You are strong & supportive. You have leaned on me and allowed me to lean on you as we have traveled together to this place & time where we both finally understand what it means to be whole & happy & fulfilled. You have built this wonderful home with me. You have laughed, cried, yelled, whispered, smiled, frowned, ran, crawled, danced & sang with me every step of the way. You have promised me your Forever & you have accepted mine. I am thankful every morning when I wake beside you and every night when I fall asleep beside you.  When we are apart nothing seems completely right and when we are together I don’t want to be anywhere else in the Universe. You are the embodiment of everything I’ve ever wanted/needed/desired in a Partner & more. You are perfect for me. And I am perfect for you. Ultimately, you have made it “ok” for me to be me. Thank you for choosing me. Thank you for Loving me. Thank you for accepting my Love for you. And thank you for being you. Because I Love who you are. So very much.

Happy Holidays, dear reader. I hope that you are Loved & Blessed.

Be excellent to each other, my Friends.

 

Well, what do you expect?

Well folks, we did it.  X & I got hitched on Halloween in a wonderful ceremony officiated by three of our best friends. We were surrounded by people we love dressed in a multitude of Awesome costumes.  We had SO MUCH FUN! It was the perfect wedding IMHO.

Three days into our married Life together, the inevitable happened. I made a comment on Twitter about not feeling well and before I knew it we were balls deep in ribbing & teasing about being pregnant. On any normal day I could have taken that in stride, but that was not a normal day. At that point, I had been feeling queasy, head-achey, irritable, and emotionally raw for about a week. Hormonal, maybe. Emotional backlash from getting married a third time, potentially. Who knows for sure, but the ribbing continued and by 6:30 in the evening I’d had enough and had a bit of a breakdown. So I did what any unstable Woman would have done in my shoes, I went upstairs and took a shower.

While showering I pondered what it was about the playful teasing from the people closest to me that set me off.  I realized that for the better part of the last 9 years of my Life I have spent a lot of time and energy on wanting another baby. Sometimes very desperately, so that I became depressed over it off and on for years.  I know that my first husband would have given me another baby, had I stayed with him. I know that my second husband would have never agreed to it. He never wanted kids. In the beginning of my relationship with J & K, K promised me a baby. “You are going to have my son.” he said, and OH MY GODS my heart ached in my chest at the words. I clung to that promise like a life raft through the uncertainty, fear and heartache the three of us went through together trying to make that relationship work. But J wanted another baby. More desperately than I did it seemed some times… at least she was more vocal about it. Part of me has always believed she needed it to prove that she could. Part of me believes it was her way of establishing something with K that I would never have, whether it was a conscious effort or not will never be known.  Regardless of the motivation behind it, we supported her and worked towards making it happen, and it did. She had his son. She bore the baby that was supposed to have been mine. But I helped in the conception and gave him a name, I took care of him, fed him, bathed him, changed his diapers, played with him, LOVED HIM LIKE MY OWN… and now, I am not allowed to see him. I haven’t seen him, nor his sister, since February. And often my heart aches with missing them.

When I told K & J that I had fallen in Love with X and was leaving, K desperately and passionately tried to convince me to stay. It was so hard… it was heartbreaking on so many levels… much of our conversations happened in the middle of the night when he would wake me, unable to sleep in his distress, and try to nail down the issues, try to fix things, try to repair the irreparable… much of our conversations I have lost and cannot remember.  But I do remember a couple of things he said to me, probably because they made such a profound impact on me and my understanding of how it was definitely time for me to leave that relationship.

“We knew this was going to happen,” he said, “We’ve been expecting it.”  He explained that he and J had been wanting to Handfast to me but were “waiting for this to happen”. He thought of me as his Wife, he told me.  If I had only waited a little bit longer, he explained. If I had only waited?  What?! So, let me get this straight… you’ve been expecting me to cheat and fall for someone else for the LAST FIVE YEARS and it was only AFTER I passed that test that you were going to make that commitment to me?!  It was only AFTER I passed that test that you were going to tell me how you felt?! Only then would I be deserving of the title?!  How backwards is it that you are going to wait until something threatens the relationship to tell someone you want to be with them for the rest of your Life?!

At some point after that conversation, I was sitting alone of the front porch, smoking & thinking. He came out to join me and, as was his habit, tried to nail me down to talk about what was on my mind. So I told him. I had been sitting there thinking about how badly I wanted another baby and was struggling with coming to terms with the fact that I wasn’t going to have one.  He apparently didn’t believe me because all hell broke loose after that, none of which is pertinent to this particular story…

Expectation rules Perception.

They spent our entire relationship expecting me to stray. I went into that relationship expecting the home & family I’d always wanted.  At least one of us got what we expected…

X expects the best of me. He expects me to choose him, every day. I expect the same from him and we expect to spend the rest of our Lives together. I also came into this relationship expecting I would never have another baby.

X had a vasectomy shortly after B was born.  12 years ago.  When our friends were teasing us about being pregnant they educated us on a little thing called recanalization. Apparently, some men’s little swimmers have overcome the seemingly impossible and found a way back to the urethra, in spite of the vasectomy.

So, suddenly I was smacked in the face with a real, however remote, chance that I could, in fact, be pregnant. Given the fact that X & I are intimate when ever and where ever possible AND given the fact that our sex has been a large part of our Spiritual & magickal workings for the last 9 months, it wouldn’t surprise me one damn bit if it happened to him.

Well, fuck-a-doodle-doo, hail Eris.

The emotional whip-lash of that realization is what caused my anger at our friends. As misdirected as it was.  We Cancers, sometimes it takes a while for things to filter down and come to full understanding.

So, X & I talked about it. I really don’t want to actively pursue getting pregnant. That’s a whole mess of Crazy that I just don’t want to delve into. He could have a surgery to try to reverse the vasectomy, but there’s no guarantee that it will work. I don’t want to be artificially inseminated with someone else’s sperm. And neither of us are really keen on the idea of inviting one of our male friends to do the deed. So, we are left with the remote possibility that somehow one of his little guys makes it through and manages to find one of my little gals and by a near miraculous act 9 months later little Ripley is born.

After three long term relationships, years of on-again off-again bc, and many nights of using the thrills and spills method producing nothing, I’m ok with letting the Fates decide this one.

 

So, speaking of Love…

…I’m getting married, in precisely… 1 day, 22 hours, and 54 minutes… so sayeth the Countdown Clock on my cell phone.

To say “I’m excited!” would be a severe understatement.

To say “I am excited-scared-happy-outofmymind-giddy-nervous-ecstatic-andbeyondunderstandablespeech” would be a bit closer.

Have I told you, dear readers, about my X?  I know that the last year or so of my blog Life has been sporadic and full of half-entries spewing whatever happened to bubble to the surface at the moment that I was feeling the need to blog. But have I really told you about my X?

…and immediately I struggle with words…damn the shortcomings of language!  Give it a name, right?  I will try…I will fail… but I will try.  He is smart, funny, sarcastic, handsome, thoughtful, romantic, considerate, respectful, genuine, caring, sexy… he inspires me, he makes me think, he encourages me… he Loves me, adores me, worships me, cherishes me… he cooks me dinner, he makes me drinks, he does laundry & washes dishes, he loves my family (!),  he decorates with me, he sings with me, he cries with me, he laughs with me, he will listen to me without talking, he will hold me without asking what’s wrong, he will drive when I need him too and let me drive when I want to, he is my High Priest, he is the Love of my Life, he is my Partner, he knows when to rub my back or when to rub my feet, he listens to my dreams and supports them, he expects the best of me, he takes pictures of me and brags about me, he LOVES MY KID and she loves him, he vacuums, he brings me sangria and chocolate, he will make Love to me and he will fuck me AND ALL OF THESE THINGS ARE SEPARATE AND CONNECTED AND IMPORTANT BEYOND WORDS.

In short, X has made me a believer.

Before his Love:

I felt the idea of “soul mates” was fairy tale-ish and immature. I thought the concept of “true love” was a simplistic and unrealistic idea. I thought happiness was what you made of it. I thought love stories were bull shit and I loudly heckled television shows & movies that portrayed romatic relationships. I struggled with the concept of romance and ridiculed myself for wanting it. I talked myself into a desperate place where I tried to balance deep thinking with shallow feeling.  I tried to drown believing with thinking.  I tried to hide myself from myself.

Now:

Well… if you’ve read my recent blog posts you know, I’m a believer.

And in less than 2 days, I will be Mrs. X.  Hail Eris.

 

I am a night owl.

And I work a day job.

Suck.

I hate getting up before 10 am. I don’t really get geared up and going until right around 4 pm. Then I’m jazzed until around 1 am.  It’s a grueling schedule when I have to get up at 6:45 am to get myself, my X, and my Darkling going for work/school.

So, case in point, at the moment I am emailing zip files to B. He got an iPod shuffle for his birthday and he needs MP3s.

What the Darklings need Cootie & X provide.

Thankfully, X is a night owl too. Of course, that just means working a day job is just as hard on him as it is on me.  Poor bastard.

This time next week, X & I will be in Wilmington, NC. At a resort hotel. With a private balcony overlooking the ocean. Does it get any better than that?  I think not, my friends. I think not.

In two weeks we are getting married.

Yeah. Married. The big “M”.

And I’m so excited and so happy and so In Love it’s nauseating I know.

I’m rambling now, so I’ll let you go before I lose you and me and everyone else in the ride. But let me say this, watch for the Future, Friend. It’ll be here sooner than you think.

 

Thoughts on sex with girls.

How’s that for a title? The thought process started for me on Friday. One of my co-workers called me over to his desk, because, he said, I was the best qualified to answer his question. Knowing this person as I do, I rolled my eyes and walked over prepared for the worst. “So, you saw Ghost, right?” I snickered, unable to help myself. “Yes” I answered. “Ok,” he continued, “so you know that scene at the end where Whoopi let Patrick Swayze use her body so that he could have one last kiss with Demi Moore, right?” Again I answered, “Yes”. “Ok,” he continues “does that make Whoopi & Demi lesbians?” My answer was “No”. He wanted to know why not? I said “Because fucking a girl, much less kissing one, does not make you a lesbian.” He found that hilarious and, once the laughter subsided, he asked “Isn’t that kind of the entire point of being a lesbian?”. What? Really?! Is fucking a girl the entire point of being a heterosexual man? I guess maybe it is for some. But I have been intimate with a few women, not a lot, but a few, and I am definitely not a lesbian.
This just brings me back to a discussion I had in my Psych class a couple of years ago. To some people, sexual orientation is very black and white. You’re either straight or you’re gay. Those kinds of people don’t believe anyone who says they are bi-sexual. They call us delusional, liars; they say we are “experimenting”, or outright faking.

So, I have to wonder, in the minds of these kind of people… is the concept of sex with someone you care about so far removed from their idea of homosexuality? I know that sex does not equal Love by any stretch of the imagination. Sometimes you just need to get off. But sometimes, just sometimes, it’s more than sex. Sometimes it’s an expression of Love, mutual adoration, respect, and affection. Sometimes it’s magical.
At 32 years old I can safely say I am no longer experimenting with my sexual orientation. I am bi-sexual and I am in Love with a Man. He is the Love of my Life and, I am convinced, my Spiritual twin/Soul mate/what-the-fuck-ever.  Give it a name, right? But I have loved Women. I have given them all that I could in hopes of finding that connection, that level of intimacy and Love that I so longed for… and they have loved me, they best that they could.

Love is Love. So, fuck you.  Keep your labels to yourself.

 

The tick-tock of the clock is painful…

10 points – Name the song and the band. : )

Missed me?

I’ve been busy. Fucking hell.  Where to start?  Probably where I left off.  Or somewhere in between.

School just started back up again!   This semester I am enrolled in German I, Business Communication & Report Writing, and the same Math class that I took last Fall because I failed it. Blah. I’m thrilled about the German class. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. The Math class… well, you can imagine how excited I am to be re-taking that.  The Business class is a crock, but necessary for my goals. I changed my major! The dissolution of the Collective left me floundering a bit and questioning my goals & my direction for the future. The parting was such that it was made clear to me that I am to have nothing further to do with the Memoreum project, so I was left with the question: Do I still want to be a Funeral Director? The answer came as a resounding “No”.  That, of course, led to another question: So what the hell do I want to do then? After a lot of debate & soul searching I decided on pursuing just a general associates degree with a certification in small business management.

Why small business management? Because X & I are finally going to make our dreams come to fruition and open a store together!

Cool huh?  We’re going to start on-line, the Ebay store should be up and running soon. Our goal is to open it on Dia de los Muertos. We also want to set up our own website in conjunction with the Ebay store (Fire, are you interested?  Shoot me an email or give me a call when you get some free time. We’ll need a quote.) We’re calling it Cootie & X’s Full Circle, specializing in eclectic clothing and arcane books of the second hand variety. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?  We’ve got our profile and Me page up. Check it out: http://members.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewUserPage&userid=cootiexsfullcircle . It makes me giggle every time I look at it. I’m so excited I’m practically beside myself over it.

Besides that X & I have a lot going on right now and are facing some big decisions that will bring major changes to our little family over the course of the next year.  But that’s ok, we’re ready for it.

We are getting ready to finish up Fire in our Element Walk and roll right into Water. It is fascinating to see how the Walk evolves and changes in each Element. Fire has been quite different from Air and I imagine Water will follow suit.

Hands down, this has been the best Summer of my Life. We spent a lot of time by the pool, boat drinks in hand, soaking up the Sun. I’m tan. Amazing. I haven’t been tan since I was 14 years old. We’ve played many a game of Scrabble and a few hands of cards. We’ve had amazing fun with Friends.  My relationship with my Family has grown stronger and healed so much.  I have re-discovered so many things that I love and had forgotten.  Oh!  And we expanded on our Bill & Ted’s philosophy to create the X & Cootie Credo!

1. Be excellent to each other.
2. Do what is necessary and be as polite as possible.
3. Find the positive. If you can’t find the positive, find the funny.
4. Whatever works.
5. Pics or it didn’t happen.
6. Be nice to old Gypsy Women. They can fuck your shit up!
7. When someone asks if you are a god, say “Yes!”.

We are forming some sort of Pagan/Discordian/Geek hybrid tradition here, and I love it.

I am very much looking forward to the Fall. It is, after all, our favorite time of the Year.

Hail Eris!

 

So… just what is Love, exactly?

I love my Daughter.

I love chocolate.

I love my boot collection.

I love hot tubing.

I love October.

I love Scota.

I love purple.

I love dark beer.

I love horror movies.

I love my friends.

I love X.

 

I think this is where our language fails us.  How is it that we can use one word to encompass so much? How can we apply one word to boots and our offspring and our Partner and the Divine?  They are not equal. Not by a long stretch my friend.

All of my Life I have been unable to make a distinction between the love that I had for my friends and the love that I had for whomever I was in a relationship with at the time.  6 months ago, I had myself convinced that I was poly and that as such; I was hardwired toward a Life of multiple partners and could not be satisfied with monogamy.  Now, my logical mind says that monogamy is a choice, much like my sexuality I can be attracted to Women and Men and choose to be in a relationship with one or the other and be satisfied as such or visa versa. 6 months ago, I was in a polyfidelitous triad and resigned to live as such… unfulfilled maybe, but happiness came and went in degrees. Peaks and valleys, right?  Such is Life. So, logic aside, I lived in doubt more often than not.

Yesterday I realized, for the first time ever, that I feel a distinct difference in the Love I have for X and the love I have for my friends. Even for my Lady Ice who is closest to me than any other next to X. There is a difference. I remember, 5 years ago when the Collective was very new and J said to me “There is a difference.” In her love for me and her Love for K.  I didn’t understand then.  I said I did, but I didn’t, not really.

Now I understand.

What she meant was that she is “in Love” with K but not me. She loved me; no doubt. I know she loved me… maybe still does. But she was…is… in Love with K.  I understand now.  I understand because I am in Love with X.  For the first time in my Life, I am in Love.  And that is a strange and weird realization to come to at 32 years old with 3 failed long term relationships under your belt. Two of which were marriages.

So now I know what it means: to be in Love.

Now I know. And it is wonderful.

I’d like to be apologetic. To J and W, Thing One & Two, to K and J… I loved them the best I could… I just wasn’t in Love with them. Weird that I thought I was. It just goes to further the understanding of how Perspective changes everything. I’d like to be apologetic… but, I think it would smack insincere. I loved them.  I did the best I could. It just never was enough.

 

Growing pains.

Is it possible for your heart to hurt from an abundance of Love & Joy?  Like growing pains maybe?  Or maybe this evening the lump in my throat and the rock in my chest are there because my baby turns 13 tomorrow… tonight, as I was tucking her in bed, she said to me “After tonight I won’t be your little girl anymore. I’ll be a teenager!”

It took everything I had in me to keep from crying in that moment.

My Punky is growing up. There’s nothing I can do to stop it. There’s nothing I can do to avoid it.

I think it best to weather this as I have all scary things in Life: grab a beer, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

I am enjoying Life. X & I have decided to get married, did you know? 11/5/10, yes sir. Always remember the fifth of November. I feel… relief. Is that weird? Among the happiness and giddyness and Love and Joy I feel relieved. Light. Like I am Home. I can kick my shoes off, get a drink, and relax. Finally. It is good.

 

a rare lyrics post

because I felt compelled….

 Past the Point of Rescue – Hal Ketchum

Last night I dreamed you were back again
Larger than life again, holding me tight again
Placing those same kisses on my brow
Sweeter than ever now, lord I remember how
Couldn’t get enough of kissing, do you know how much you’re missing
No you don’t, but I do

The days like a slow train trickle by
And even the words that I write refuse to fly
All I can hear is your song haunting me
Can’t get the melody out of my head, you see
Distractions are amusing, do you know how much you’re losing
No you don’t, but I do

But I do, and I wonder if I’m past the point of rescue
Is no word from you at all the best that you can do
I never meant to push or shove you, do you know how much I love you
No you don’t, but I do

I swore I’d never fall like this again
Fools like me never win, came to my knees again
Can’t close the door on likely hood
Things might be just as good, I always believed they would
Gotta let your love invite me, baby do you think it might be
No you don’t, but I do

But I do, and I wonder if I’m past the point of rescue
Is no word from you at all the best that you can do
I never meant to push or shove you, do you know how much I love you
No you don’t, but I do

But I do, and I wonder if I’m past the point of rescue
Is no word from you at all the best that you can do
I never meant to push or shove you, do you know how much I love you
No you don’t, but I do
I know you don’t, but I do
I know you don’t, but I do

 

New Years Eve 2009

This year I am alone. I’m sitting on my youngest sisters couch. I have had entirely too much red wine.

At midnight I hugged my family and wished them all a happy new year and texted all of my friends. No one has texted me back.
At the moment I’m watching some quasi-black chick on the Dick Clark New Year’s Special sing something or another… she’s cute. Her back up vocals/dancers are cute. I can barely hear them. That’s probably a good thing.

Tonight I’m broken hearted and scared and alone.

It’s ok though. This will be a trend for a while. It’s truly a new year. We’ll see what it holds in store.

Peace to your house. Be excellent to each other my friends.