clickmom

in between

So. I'm not actually a big drinker, and by "not a big drinker" I mean I rarely drink. As much as I do kind of like the feeling of a little buzz, I just don't enjoy the taste and feeling of alcohol in my mouth. Also, I haven't had a hangover since college and I am fine with keeping that record forever. 

But, Saturday was Pal's birthday and he is just one of those people who likes a good birthday celebration. So, this year, since Pal's husband passed away last fall, Pal's friends (myself included) have been paying him some extra attention. Pal's good friend (work wife, maybe?) was hosting a birthday party for Pal at Pal's place and I got invited and naturally went. To make a long story short, there were a bunch of friends there, the work wife made an incredibly strong "signature drink", there was a ton of good food, a lot of pal's neighbors came by and with 90 minutes just about everyone (except me, who coddled the signature drink) was completely plastered. But it was more than just a drinking environment, it was almost as if the party was for the adult beverages instead of for Pal. I just don't get that relationship with booze. Now, Pal is the kind of drinker who does not know when to say when. He's been like that always and when we lived together I just used to go to bed when he got to a certain level of drunk, which usually around midnight, so it worked out just fine. But this time I had to wait it out to get the neighbors back to their houses first. And apparently the other friends (we were all staying the night) are also the type who don't know when to say when. 

In the end, one lady guest was so drunk she began to weep (why??), everyone was slurring, making emphatic hand gestures while spewing nonsensical discombobulated yet passionate heart felt garbage out their mouths. No bottle of anything went unopened. So, in addition to the signature vodka drink there was Prosecco, red wine and champagne. Someone had a pot vape that got some heavy use.  

There was vomiting. 

Vomiting.

eeewwwww.

I don't know folks. Maybe I'm just a total dud but I would way rather do a million other things than drink until I vomit.  Everyone who stayed over (except me) was still drunk the next morning. And here is the thing. They were all so stinking drunk that no one had any idea that I went through the evening with a light buzz early on but stone cold sober as son as I saw the rest of them deteriorating. Someone had to keep a level head, right? What if there was an emergency? Like someone cut a finger off slicing limes or tripped and busted their head open? I would have been able to drive to the emergency room. Luckily no one got hurt and I didn't have to be a hero but I was prepared.

The next morning the person who had a breathalyzer installed in his car couldn't drive to go get some breakfast. His fear was that his parole officer would find out if he even tried to see what his blood alcohol levels were (he knew they were elevated) and there would be consequences.  

Parole officer.

I was happy to leave. I liked these folks pre-drunk and then hungover. But the in between was a little frightening.

 

f.i.

I think I may have slipped off of that fence I've been straddling for some time now. I slipped onto the depressed side. I am sad in that way which completely paralyzes me. I feel nothing and everything. My motivation is zero. I cry while driving down the street. I ask myself if there is really anything worth staying on this earth for. (Other than to see the current white house resident behind bars) 

But I haven't lost my sense of humor!!

I told the goddess how I have been feeling and she began to cry. She asked me not to do that to her and said that if I ended it for me I might as well end it for her because she would die a thousand times. That kind of resonated with me. I was thinking about the kids but no one beyond the people came out of my womb. I mean, I told her that the kids were the one thing keeping me here, so unless someone takes out all of my kids I'm not gonna jump off a building. I told her in the way of I think about it but I wouldn't do it way- so I'm not threatening or even in any danger. Just need some relief- but won't hurt myself because of the kids.

Which is interesting since one of the kids is a huge source of much of my pain. I'm in agony here. Matt is distancing from me. I don't know why. I suspect that there is a toxic friend or two whispering shit. But I don't know. Because in order to know I would have to have a kid who was willing to sit down and talk to me but I don't. This is not the child I raised. This is not the child I sent off to hipster U. It is what hipster U spits out, and if I could burn hipster U to the ground I totally would. Worst choice ever made. I sent off a kid who would talk to me, share with me, respected me (it was mutual) and now I have a college graduate who won't even try to mend things (uncertain what they are but....) with me. 

I can't even write about this because I don't know what is happening and it is making me frantically ill.

 

really don't

There is a great big mess inside my head. Seriously. 

This morning, I brought sweet pea to the woods, walked for about an hour with a friend, walked on our own for another 45 minutes or so and left. I only left because I was angry at myself for not bringing my camera (I was betrayed by the phone weather app which LIED to me and said skies would be cloudy) and also because I was so layered up in clothes in my yearly summer attempt to avoid mosquito bites, that the sweat was pouring down my face. 

I think because I’ve been going to the Y sauna on and off for the last couple of months I got very efficient at sweating. On the one hand it’s healthy (I hope..) on the other hand, there are more attractive things to be efficient at, like controlling my binge eating. Don’t ask. I’m in weeble territory. Thank god I’m pretty. If I had an ugly face I would have to live under a bridge and yell at the billy goats right now. 

So, I was already kind of agitated because of the sunny weather without a camera thing. When I got back to this house, that I freaking hate so much ( even after 8 years of living here I still hate this house. Can’t explain it. I do not feel at home here.) I looked down at my leg and saw a tick crawling around! My other summer enemy!! I used two pieces of paper to scrape that god forsaken vile disease bearing creature off my leg and I squished him with a pen. 

Then I came in the house and the husband was asleep so I got busy, which is unusual, normally I am not productive. I cleaned the oven for the first time in 8 years. Or I should say- I began the process of cleaning the oven. (I’m going to need to let that oven cleaner sink in over night) First I took the racks out so I could use a spatula to clear out 8 years of stuff that dripped and ultimately turned into a fluffy kind of oven coating charcoal. I sent a photo of 8 years of charcoal oven drippings to a friend who sent back three texts. 1. OH 2. MY 3. GOD . She probably has a clean oven. I replied “Yeah. Every time I turned it on to warm it up someone said “Dinner smells good” even though it was just the ghosts of dinners past.” and she thought that was hilarious. I sprayed on some super old (I don’t even know where it came from - it was just in the house. May have had it in stepford) oven cleaner and now I’m giving that old oven cleaner time to work. 

Anyway, I am going to enter a contest with my photos. The winner gets a trip to Japan to print their photos with an antique method. I’ll be happy just to make it into the finalists. So, I came upstairs to print. Before I knew it it was 2 o’clock and I hadn’t heard a peep from the husband. So, naturally I froze while I made a plan for what I would do if he was in a coma or otherwise unresponsive but alive and also what to do if he was dead. He was fine. He had gotten out of bed and stumbled to the family room and was watching television. But, you know, the terror of wondering if today is the day doesn’t exactly put me in a sun shine and daisies happy mind set. 

Also, I had a bizarre dream a few night’s ago where he thought he was thoughtfully hiring landscapers to create a little haven for me except it was in the next door neighbor’s yard and quite frankly, I woke up from that dream screaming at him “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” in my head over the wasted money and I think I’m actually having trouble 3 days later letting go of all the dream anger. The dream must mean something. In the dream I had taken the 8 adirondack chairs from utopia and I don’t even know why I’m thinking about those chairs! I would have taken a lot of other items before those chairs. So strange. But I realized that having those chairs was a recurring dream and once I woke up I knew I had dreamed about those chairs at least 2 other times since we sold utopia last January. According to Dream Bible: To dream of a chair represents "staying put" with a decision. Taking a position in life. Situations where you are aware of yourself not wanting to take action at all. Waiting or "sitting a situation out." ... Alternatively, a chair may reflect how you are taking time out to contemplate a situation before proceeding. Does “Contemplate a situation” mean obsessively worry? If so, then mystery solved.

Also, I still hate the people who bought our house as well as the realtor and even though I know that hatred and resentment (they were all so incredibly dreadful to deal with!) are wasted emotions I also struggle every single day of my life with the inability to let go of anger and resentment. I wish there was a button for letting go. I’d be all over mine constantly. 

Anyways, I think I’m coming to a decision about which images to send off to the Japan printing contest. If they chose me it would be so freaking glorious. I’d probably not eat solid food until I got there in order to not offend them with my gigantic american size. 

I sat outside for a few minutes to get some sun and when I came back inside a felt a tickle on my neck which turned out to be another freaking tick walking around in my hair line. They are trying to kill me. All the insects have it out for me. The mosquitoes have been biting my boobs through my shirt and bra. I just…. nothing feels safe anymore. Maybe I should just move back to the city. Except NY is totally going to be under water in my life time. I feel quite resigned that I think the end of the world is here.

I’m just sad and frustrated. All I want to do is make photos that people buy so I can afford to make more. Is that asking too much? I don’t think so. I really don’t.