I Love You People

Yep. I do. I love you all. I love my family, I love my blog, I love EVERYTHING.....

and I have been into the Smirnoff.

Tomorrow is a full moon, Halloween was yesterday, and all is right with the world. Well, except my kids having a horrible allergic reaction to the makeup that they wore last night (and Kira wore the night before, too, so her face is all swollen up like the Stay-Puf marshmallow man). Neither one of them wants to go to school looking the way they do. I don't blame them. Especially Kira. She is *bad.* I hope it goes away. :(

My Seasonal Affective Disorder is going to get a really great boost now that we've set the clocks back and sunset is somewhere in the neighborhood of 4:30 in the afternoon (and earlier every day). Awesomeness. Like I need that crap. But my Wellbutrin is on its last renewal, so when I call the office to have them renew it, I'm going to ask if they can double-dose it. Or at least, in my vodkaconfidence, I am going to. Likely, I'll just meekly accept the current dose and continue to feel like crap until December when they might realize that I SHOULD have increased the damn dosage in October.

Tomorrow there is NOT a new episode of House. I freakin' love that show. I do not want to watch baseball. I do not want to watch Dancing With The Stars (get your own freakin' time slot, losers). I want HOUSE. grrrrrr.

When I went out to my car to find my camera to upload the pictures from last night (which I'm not posting yet because I need to edit them and honestly, am not in the best frame of mind to write a well-written post about how awesome the evening was), I had the most amazing idea. Can't remember it now, but it was amazing. Trust me.

Facebook is sucking me in with all of these applications. Now I am a farmer (on TWO different farms), and I am stranded on a desert island. That has a store on it. And where I can island-hop. Honestly, if I can hop from island to island, am I really still stranded? And why would I go back to my island when Michelle and Wendy have MUCH better islands than I do?

I want chocolate, I don't have any in the house, and it is irritating me. I am making do with a "Low Fat" Quaker Chewy oatmeal raisin bar. 90 calories. That's because it's two freakin' bites, people.

I have a new therapist. His name is John and he specializes in DBT, which is a treatment for people with borderline personality disorder. Which apparently my most recent therapist JUST realized I really struggle with. After TWO FUCKING YEARS. She was all, "I think you might be dealing with BPD." I'm like: "Yeahhhhhhh????" (like, this is not news, lady) Yes, I have great faith in the mental health community. Anyway, John seems really good so far, especially since he makes me really nervous and he won't let me side-step questions. He thinks within the next year I will have mastered several skills that will greatly help. Within a year! That's amazing considering how long I have been in therapy, to think that I will have measurable results in such a short time.

My buzz seems to be leveling out. Where's my vodka?

There are 54 days left until Christmas. One of my Facebook friends has a countdown on her profile page. eek! I can't think of what to get for Mark. He's no help. He wants an iPod touch (stand in line, buddy) or a "real" cellphone (right now he has a TracFone and he doesn't want to spend the money on additional minutes....and he thinks I do?). And he can't think of anything else. Great. Christmas Day, he'll open new socks and gift cards for TracFone minutes.

I just put something in my mouth without being entirely certain what it was. I *thought* it was a crumb from my oatmeal raisin bar that somehow dropped on my desk, but I didn't know for sure. Fortunately, that's what it turned out to me. wow. just, wow.

I want to throw a party. At the same time, this idea scares the living hell out of me. What if no one comes? What if they all come and they're bored out of their minds and they never want to have anything to do with me ever again? How do you throw a party, anyway? I know all these people I want to invite, but most of them have spouses or significant others, and, um, I don't? In fact, do I even HAVE any single friends anymore? Wow. Well, Peter, and Kimmie, but they both live in the Boston area. That's not helpful.

My vacuum cleaner has been in my living room for weeks. I have not vacuumed. It's just hanging out there.

Did I mention I love you all?

What do *I* want for Christmas? Kira was asking me awhile ago, and I was having a hard time coming up with things to tell her. Partly because a lot of what I want isn't exactly exciting ("hey, darling, can you give me some new ceiling panels for the dining room? That would be lovely"). Okay, mostly because what I want isn't exciting. Or affordable for a nine-year-old.

Oh fuck. She's got a birthday coming up. What day is it???? It's on a Wednesday. Dang, I need to think of a party. And a present.

Her closet is a friggin hell-hole. She never actually puts her clothes away when I ask her. She just throws them in there, or hides them. Great. And I hear a lot of "all you have to do is" put them away for her and get her all fixed up to start fresh. Yeah. If it was that easy. I'm good if I friggin' SHOWER every day.

I've been trying a new thing of dressing up nicely. I try not to wear jeans. Except on days when I'm going to be doing heavy work that would beat hell out of nice clothes. It's kind of nice. I missed looking good most days. Except I keep getting comments like "Why are you all dressed up?" which just tells me how far I have fallen. Cripe.

I did not wear a costume to the Halloween Carnival. I wore nice black pants and a purple top with silver rings at the neckline and flats. People asked why I didn't dress up and I would either indicate my outfit and say "I did dress up" or "I'm a psychopath. They look like everyone else."

How long is this entry, anyway? Oh well. I'm not done yet.

Just got a text from my very dear friend Shelly. She said "I hate sundays." I said "I'm buzzed. I love sundays. I love you. I love everything." Am waiting for reply.

I need to get laid. I'm sorry, Mom-and-Dad-who-occasionally-read-my-blog, but it's true. It has been entirely too long. Or not long enough. Or, oh shit, someone stop me from blathering penis jokes. Really. Oh my fucking god. Oh wait, that's blasphemy. (and I had to type that 9 times before I spelled it right). hahahhahahahhahahah Oh fuck. good vodka.

Two drinks. I am such a cheap drunk. Or very liberal with the vodka. Your choice.

I wonder how comfortable it would be if I continued to sit here cross-legged in my office chair, with the slide-out keyboard tray out, with my head down on the desk. I bet I could fall asleep. I bet I would NOT be happy when I woke up.

I miss my friend Peter. He was up a couple of weeks ago, made me dinner, the next day we went to Fort Knox....I want him to come back up soon. C' mon Peter.....

Just realized I do, in fact, have chocolate. Had s'mores makings in a bag that has been floating around the kitchen, to camp, back to the kitchen, for quite a while. Snagged a partially eaten Hershey bar from earlier this week. Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

chocolate

Read this fabulous article in Cosmopolitan (boy those women are sluts...why do I want a subscription so badly then?) about how women are dying from drinking, because they are drinking too much too fast and then going to sleep and never waking up. Awesome. Apparently women who drink very rarely are more susceptible to this than regular drinkers, and it's most particularly dangerous to those who drink to the point of throwing up. So I am apparently not at risk here. I'm just rather buzzed, and will sleep well. But the article definitely made an impression.

(and wow, when I googled cosmopolitan to link to that article, the 3rd result was a recipe FOR a Cosmopolitan. Don't drink it!)

oh well. couldn't find a link. Trust me, drink slowly and if you're too wasted, do NOT be alone.

I have "How Much Is That Doggie In The Window" in my head. Wow.

K people. I think I have inflicted enough on you for awhile. Gonna sign off, continue texting with Shelly (dang those little buttons are getting slippery) and check in with you later. xoxox mk