Shame on you Britney.
She’s spent all of about 28 days out of the spotlight and she’s already set up deals for a tell-all interview and book deal. Did she not get the memo that “rehab” does not equal “cure” or even “recovery”? Sometimes sobering up slows people down enough to become reflective, if only for a little while, which is what I’d hoped for for PsychoBrit, but no…
She’s just full-bore mania straight out of the gate. Before too long we’re going to be seeing her beave on the covers of all the tabloids again, and then she’ll be arrested for drunk driving with a kid in her lap. I’m putting my money down on these things occurring before she’s through with her Susan Powter phase.
Under normal circumstances, I could give less that a rat’s ass about Hollyweird bimbos and pop princesses, but whenever one goes totally over the cuckoo’s nest and lands in treatment my ears perk up a little. Recently in the U.S. there has been an emergent culture of REHAB. If you ever watch VH1 “where-are-they-now” shows, you know what I’m talking about. Seems like every hard rock legend has gone through treatment and retired into obscurity to live some semblance of normal family life—outside the occasional resuscitation tour, that is.
And if you think those VH1 programs get stale after a few hours, try living in the heart of the land of 10,000 treatment centers with slogans swirling around the heads of newcomers trying to make their lives work without the assistance of beer, booze, or designer chemistry. Forgive my obvious disdain and read it as resentment from a drunk who couldn’t afford treatment (and who’s family practically held an intervention to talk her out of AA), and I’m going through a dry-drunk phase to boot.
So, in conclusion, it is my observation that Britney has joined the ranks of the over-privileged multitude of on-again-off-again twentysomething alcoholic/drug addicts who can’t find anything more creative and productive to do with themselves once they quit the shit than act like total fuckin’ lunatics and burden us with the intimate details of their sordid lives.
Monday, April 30, 2007
Wednesday, April 25, 2007
Dragging Ass
It’s heartburn and headache day. A combination of PMS, caffeine withdrawal, and a brown-sugary oatmeal breakfast. I hope string cheese and coffee rectify the situation, otherwise I’ll have to resort to Zantac and Advil. I’m fuckin’ crabby. Next week I scheduled myself a four-day weekend, and let me tell you, I need it!!! I haven’t had a paid holiday since 2001, and then I still got daily phone calls like, “Where do we keep…?” “How do you order...?” So it’s going to be nice to just chill out and not have the phone ring. Right now I am enjoying holding a position of no authority.
String cheese seems to be working…
*Sigh* I can’t wait until the day is over so I can go out and do something in the fresh air and not be sitting here staring at my hideous beige fabric covered cubicle listening to a myriad of voices lilting up and down from the surrounding cubes. The guy next to me is really good with people, but he talks like an auctioneer on speed at the State Fair. And there’s a woman two rows over who giggles like a girl being felt up for the first time at the eighth grade dance, and it goes on all day every day. I wish I was exaggerating. Sometimes I want to strangle her. At least I like my cube mate, she’s super sweet. And tiny—she’s about 90 pounds even at six months preggers. She’s always flashing her ridiculous pregnant pants at me, it’s hilarious.
Whoops, late from break!
String cheese seems to be working…
*Sigh* I can’t wait until the day is over so I can go out and do something in the fresh air and not be sitting here staring at my hideous beige fabric covered cubicle listening to a myriad of voices lilting up and down from the surrounding cubes. The guy next to me is really good with people, but he talks like an auctioneer on speed at the State Fair. And there’s a woman two rows over who giggles like a girl being felt up for the first time at the eighth grade dance, and it goes on all day every day. I wish I was exaggerating. Sometimes I want to strangle her. At least I like my cube mate, she’s super sweet. And tiny—she’s about 90 pounds even at six months preggers. She’s always flashing her ridiculous pregnant pants at me, it’s hilarious.
Whoops, late from break!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Runaway
I decided to steal a day for myself alone today. I had a really rough night last night due to some drunken relative drama. I have an emotional hangover today. Last night there was all kinds of yelling and freaking out, and I wish I could tell you I took the high road, but I got caught up in it. My poor Hubby was utterly traumatized, it was coming at him from all directions. As I sped away toward home on my bike there were squads racing down the street--were those for us?? My stomach was in knots all night and when I woke up they were still there. So I said to myself, "fuck all this bullshit I just need a day alone." And I called in to work.
As I was getting ready to go out and screw off all day I got an apology call, which made it a little better. I held my ground on my decision to not come around anymore if there's going to be drinking. Unfortunately there is a family birthday party coming up this weekend and I've been promised a sober cohort. We'll see I guess...
I hate alcohol. I never see it do any good for anyone. It changes people's personalities and makes them grandiose unto themselves, it causes outbursts of magnified hurt feelings, it makes people stupid and cruel. Quitting drinking was the best thing I ever did for myself, but my family resents me for it (last night I was actually accused of being PERSECUTING!). When I find that I need to excuse or exclude myself from an evening, or try to plan something that isn't a kegger or BYOB they think I'm a snot. And heaven forbid I should remind my husband more than once that he's promised to keep it together for the night! "Oh Crass, just leave him alone, he's having fun. Get off his back." Yeah? And if he gets fired for showing up to work drunk are you going to pay his fuckin' rent? I didn't think so, now shut the fuck up.
See what I mean? I take the bait every time.
I really needed today to just run away from home. I feel guilty for calling in sick, but it's my first time in the 5 months I've been there so I think they'll be ok. After I dropped Hubby off at work I cleaned out the car, packed up the computer and drove out to a small college town a ways down the highway. I haven't decided if I'm going to tell Hubby where I took the car today.
I spent a considerable amount of time down here during my juvenile years and I kinda missed the place. It's more crowded and busy than I remember, but mostly it's the same. I'm going to pack it up and take a walk around in a little bit here, check out the antique stores and boutiques I never went to as a carousing teenager. Maybe I'll see a familiar face... Ah, I doubt it.
As I was getting ready to go out and screw off all day I got an apology call, which made it a little better. I held my ground on my decision to not come around anymore if there's going to be drinking. Unfortunately there is a family birthday party coming up this weekend and I've been promised a sober cohort. We'll see I guess...
I hate alcohol. I never see it do any good for anyone. It changes people's personalities and makes them grandiose unto themselves, it causes outbursts of magnified hurt feelings, it makes people stupid and cruel. Quitting drinking was the best thing I ever did for myself, but my family resents me for it (last night I was actually accused of being PERSECUTING!). When I find that I need to excuse or exclude myself from an evening, or try to plan something that isn't a kegger or BYOB they think I'm a snot. And heaven forbid I should remind my husband more than once that he's promised to keep it together for the night! "Oh Crass, just leave him alone, he's having fun. Get off his back." Yeah? And if he gets fired for showing up to work drunk are you going to pay his fuckin' rent? I didn't think so, now shut the fuck up.
See what I mean? I take the bait every time.
I really needed today to just run away from home. I feel guilty for calling in sick, but it's my first time in the 5 months I've been there so I think they'll be ok. After I dropped Hubby off at work I cleaned out the car, packed up the computer and drove out to a small college town a ways down the highway. I haven't decided if I'm going to tell Hubby where I took the car today.
I spent a considerable amount of time down here during my juvenile years and I kinda missed the place. It's more crowded and busy than I remember, but mostly it's the same. I'm going to pack it up and take a walk around in a little bit here, check out the antique stores and boutiques I never went to as a carousing teenager. Maybe I'll see a familiar face... Ah, I doubt it.
Monday, April 23, 2007
I'm baaaack....
This weekend I grew a wild hair up my ass.
Even though I love my job I had the overwhelming urge to flip the bird at The Man…so I got a tattoo. Of a bird. (Nice pun, eh?) On my forearm. And I LOVE IT.
In fact, I am super excited about it! My brother did this rad line drawing of this little round bird with just the tail colored in. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for—I’m not a butterfly, neo-tribal, or Sailor Sid kind of girl.
I feel like I’m back to being me again. I’ve been striving to look more professional and polished for the last year since I quit the mall and started looking for a professional job. I have some nice clothes now and regular earrings (that I wear only one pair at a time), but I sorta felt like I lost track of myself.
Another think I did to reclaim myself was to get my bike out of the basement and on the road. I love my bike. It’s an On-One “Il Pompino” frame single speed with miscellaneous components that I had built special just for me. I have a sticker on the chainstay that says, “your bike sucks.” I rode all around the neighborhood this weekend. I didn’t ride at all last year. I didn’t use it for transportation since worked in uptown and then downtown, both of which are dangerously congested, but in my free time I just never rode it. Not sure what my problem was.
Even though I love my job I had the overwhelming urge to flip the bird at The Man…so I got a tattoo. Of a bird. (Nice pun, eh?) On my forearm. And I LOVE IT.
In fact, I am super excited about it! My brother did this rad line drawing of this little round bird with just the tail colored in. It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for—I’m not a butterfly, neo-tribal, or Sailor Sid kind of girl.
I feel like I’m back to being me again. I’ve been striving to look more professional and polished for the last year since I quit the mall and started looking for a professional job. I have some nice clothes now and regular earrings (that I wear only one pair at a time), but I sorta felt like I lost track of myself.
Another think I did to reclaim myself was to get my bike out of the basement and on the road. I love my bike. It’s an On-One “Il Pompino” frame single speed with miscellaneous components that I had built special just for me. I have a sticker on the chainstay that says, “your bike sucks.” I rode all around the neighborhood this weekend. I didn’t ride at all last year. I didn’t use it for transportation since worked in uptown and then downtown, both of which are dangerously congested, but in my free time I just never rode it. Not sure what my problem was.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Easter Weekend
I'm wiped. I want nothing more at this moment than to climb into bed and go to sleep. Yeah, I know, it's only seven o'clock.
Friday kicked off a long weekend. My hubby sadly did not pass his NASD test, so that night he had himself a pity party. He got good and loaded and kept hanging on me, grabbing me, hugging me, swinging me around. I have a very low threshold for being man-handled and I had a minor freak out, which didn't help his ego. I know he was just being needy and affectionate, but when you fill him full of beer, he's just not as gentle as he normally is.
I turned out the lights and called it a night at one, but I couldn't get him to come to bed. Four thirty in the morning he comes stumbling in asking, "Is there a reason why I've been sleeping in the living room?" Um, you wouldn't get off the love seat?
Saturday morning he's hung the fuck over and I have to drive through the city to a baby shower across the street from his parents' while he's giving me commands from the passenger street. For instance, "remember when you take a left turn, the oncoming traffic has the right-of-way." No shit. He forgets that I'd been driving for ten years before I met him.
After the baby shower we visited with the in-laws, and then returned home where Hubby speedily consumed more beer.
Sunday morning, we had Easter brunch with with my family (where Boloney Sandwich snuck some champagne into his previously virgin mamosa), took an afternoon nap, then had Easter dinner with Hubby's family. I just want to go home now. And I swear if my man cracks open even one more beer tonight he'll be sleeping in the mini van.
Friday kicked off a long weekend. My hubby sadly did not pass his NASD test, so that night he had himself a pity party. He got good and loaded and kept hanging on me, grabbing me, hugging me, swinging me around. I have a very low threshold for being man-handled and I had a minor freak out, which didn't help his ego. I know he was just being needy and affectionate, but when you fill him full of beer, he's just not as gentle as he normally is.
I turned out the lights and called it a night at one, but I couldn't get him to come to bed. Four thirty in the morning he comes stumbling in asking, "Is there a reason why I've been sleeping in the living room?" Um, you wouldn't get off the love seat?
Saturday morning he's hung the fuck over and I have to drive through the city to a baby shower across the street from his parents' while he's giving me commands from the passenger street. For instance, "remember when you take a left turn, the oncoming traffic has the right-of-way." No shit. He forgets that I'd been driving for ten years before I met him.
After the baby shower we visited with the in-laws, and then returned home where Hubby speedily consumed more beer.
Sunday morning, we had Easter brunch with with my family (where Boloney Sandwich snuck some champagne into his previously virgin mamosa), took an afternoon nap, then had Easter dinner with Hubby's family. I just want to go home now. And I swear if my man cracks open even one more beer tonight he'll be sleeping in the mini van.
Sunday, April 01, 2007
Is God Mocking Me?
Yesterday Boloney Sandwich and I helped my brother and sister-in-law move into their new place. It is absolutely gorgeous! Man am I jealous and bummed out. Why can't WE have a place like that? Jeez.
Anyway, they rented a tiny little house built in the same year and in the same neighborhood as ours. Theirs is one bedroom, just one floor with a nice open layout. You walk into the living room and it flows right into their kitchen, which lets out into the back yard through a set of french doors. On the right is another set of french doors into a small den/office which is where the entry to the bath is. Their bedroom is at the very front of the house tucked neatly away. Each room is painted a different bold color with bright white trim and the floors are new. The kitchen has gorgeous cabinetry, granite countertops, new appliances, and a dishwasher.
Where do I get in line??
Anyway, they rented a tiny little house built in the same year and in the same neighborhood as ours. Theirs is one bedroom, just one floor with a nice open layout. You walk into the living room and it flows right into their kitchen, which lets out into the back yard through a set of french doors. On the right is another set of french doors into a small den/office which is where the entry to the bath is. Their bedroom is at the very front of the house tucked neatly away. Each room is painted a different bold color with bright white trim and the floors are new. The kitchen has gorgeous cabinetry, granite countertops, new appliances, and a dishwasher.
Where do I get in line??
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