Thursday was blah. i was tired and had developed a sudden craving for spinach Caesar salad. i e-mailed mom about dinner and asked her to pick up the spinach, mushrooms, croutons, real parmesan and some dressing. it was awesome. mom made some pork tenderloin roast to go with it and i whipped up some mashed potatoes.

Friday was screwed up. i was hoping for a quiet evening with a vodka sunrise or three and then Chip calls to say that there was a death in his blended-extended family and he couldn't pick up The Ronica, could i take her to Carrolton? ummm . . . i really wish i could but i've been trying *not* to drive the truck much. i even scheduled a whole weeks vacation so that i could get it fixed and be able to finally pass the month overdue inspection. i am nervous enough about driving to and from work. i have tied myself in knots from the stress and knowledge that my luck SUCKS like a geriatric whore on bingo night. without her dentures i told him pretty much that and said that if he wanted some time this week, i'd be happy to bring her out, but that i just can't do it right then. these last few days it won't even start on the first few tries! he called back later and said his sister, Katie, would be able to drop by about 9 to get her and i was cool with that. i called my Mom back and canceled with her for Saturday. about 10:30 The Ronica left with Katie and i just went to bed.

me 0 / vodka 1

Saturday i went to work and it was seemingly endless . . . by the time i got out of there, i was ready to kiss the fiery asphalt on the drive home. i called Farmer Crusty and told her i was on my way. she was also on my way, so i offered to pick her up first and then i did. we came back to my place so i could shower and change. i decided that since i'm a single girl again i might as well have some fun, so i shaved, put on a skirt and some 4" strappy sandals that lace up my ankle and lower cut blue blouse. i even wore some makeup! we went out to Sherlock's Baker Street Pub and had some calamari and potatoes skins and proceeded to drink. at best count i had between 7 - 9 shots of vodka and only managed to get a bit giggly for half an hour (not buzzed, mind you, a bit giggly)

me 0 / vodka 2

at one point a scarily drunk but not sloppy guy stopped by, cut off Christine but stepping between up with his back to her, started talking to my cleavage. we actually got through the names, city of residence and wonderment that we were both at such a lovely establishment for an evening of fun before he asked me what bra size i wear. i told him "i don't know, they have to be fitted, i go with what is most comfy. no, i can't just go to Wally World and pick out a bra. yes, i like them, i like me, they are a part of me, i am used to them. gee, that's nice that you like them, too. i have a huge scary boyfriend (who REALLY loves them) and a kid. yeah, i'm not usually allowed out of the house without him, he HATES anyone looking at my boobs. golly, i'm sorry my friend here is so very angry about the subject at hand, i have NO IDEA why she's be so uptight . . . wow! is that the bar manager? really? and he wants to talk to you? um, well, BYE!" *waves* seriously there was not THAT much boob showing! i swear! an inch to an inch and a half at most, and trust me, i have *could* show off about SIX inches of cleavage easily without even cutting it close to a nipple! i was showing less of my ample curves most than any woman in there! most girls were showing everything BUT the nipple! gak.

me 0 / vodka 3

at 10pm The Max went on. by about 12 i was dragged bodily to the dance floor, through the crowd to center stage, and forced to dance for the next two hours. apparently, Crusteeen has a huge crush on the drummer, Alex . . . i snagged his attention behind her back and motioned for him to wink at her and let on that her heart beats for him. heeeeee! only the most TRULY DEVOTED friend would deign to make a complete fool of her self by playing charades with a drummer while trying to dance on a packed dance floor. he got the message well enough i know because he started laughing and almost missed a beat. later, during a short break, while i was chatting with the bassist/sampler/backup vocalist, Sam, about breasts, threesomes, lesbianism, the desirability of bassists and good music, Alex started talking to Christine and she was beside herself with joy. i think her words were something about how she just creamed herself, but i may be mistaken . . . she may have used a different word for it. we stayed a little later after the last set to talk to them and say g'night, tell them they were awesome (they were) and generally admire them from up close for a few more minutes.

during those minutes, i made the HUGE mistake of sitting down on the edge of the stage. i would have gladly given all my money and worldly possessions at that moment if someone would have chopped off my feet. or killed me. either would have been wonderful. i did manage to make it home but i have to say one flight of stairs may as well have been a million for all the agony . . . i took a shower and went to bed.

me 0 / vodka 4

i got up today at 1pm when Myste called to say that she could drop The Ronica off early so that i could take advantage of tax free weekend and get some shopping done. i invited her along but she decided not to since she had Micah with her, too, and no other ride home since Katie was driving.

i called my mom. she was out shopping with my sister. i got into an argument with my Dad. shit. i was gonna have to do this alone.

i was trepidatious to begin with but i sucked it up and went. it was a nightmare. i don't pick out stuff for The Ronica. i either nod or veto what SHE picks out. sometimes i get stuff from high shelves or find the right size, but basically i rain on the parade and am totally useless until the paying part comes up, then i turn suddenly into the world's best mommy and i'm loved. we spent $60 at Target. Mom called me back and offered to go to Foley's with me because almost everything was on clearance and she had a coupon for an additional 15% off the whole purchase. hooookaaaayyy . . . Foley's it was then. we crossed the street, parked, and waited for her in the food court. some nice lady gave Roni a token so she could ride the carousel and she was pleased. Mom showed up and off we went. the racks were horrific. the people were numerous and crawling all over the place. the ONE dressing room for the kids department was terrifying. i spent the whole half hour it took for Mom and Roni to get her into and out of all the clothes she picked out picking up the huge pile of clothes lying in a heap on the floor, hung on the walls, thrown on the bench, jumbled with hangars. i got them all hung, folded, straightened, piled up into neat piles. we even found a pair of perfect jeans in there! the rack had only had that style in seven slim and they were too tight (FINALLY!!!!) but the Pile of Clothes From HELL had the seven regular and they fit like a glove. i grabbed a clerk when i got out and told him of the pile and he looked about happy enough to pee his pants or hump my leg when he learned that i'd hung up and folded them all. he actually leaned into a hug stance before it hit him that he shouldn't hug customers. i'm NOT kidding.

we stopped at the Spaghetti Warehouse for dinner and i calmed my nerves with some wedding soup and chicken parmesan. it helped. a lot. i still wanted to grab the first guy i saw and whisper, "Hold me, i have seen the face of terror!" but i finally had the chance to have that vodka sunrise and i'm feeling so very much better . . . and a touch sleepy . . . i guess i'll catch you on the flipside . . .

me 1 / vodka 4 = i WIN!!!!

0 = number authentic Confucious quotes found in cookies.

confessed on Sunday, Aug. 03, 2003