Drink, drank, drunk

Oh Alan, he's the love of my life. Together we have made beautiful memories that I hold dear to my heart--especially the drunk and hazy ones. So as promised, here is my favorite drunk Alan story.

The year was 1996...I think. Hey what do I know? I was drunk a lot too. Come on, we were young, newlyweds and childless. What else did we have to do? Well yeah, we did that a lot too. Ok, back to the story. Stop distracting me!! Since I was working at the hospital for an evening shift (3pm to 11pm) Alan decided to meet one of his high school buddies for "happy hour" after work. When I called him at home at 9pm there was no answer. I tried again at 10pm and no answer. I was starting to get really worried at that point and doing the woman thing of imaging the worst possible scenario. I also did the woman thing of calling every 10 to 15 minutes thinking that would make a difference. Near the end of my shift at about 11pm, I called again and this time he answered the phone with what sounded like "Aaaah Oooooo." I said, "Did you just get home?" And he answered, "aaa-wh-ga." My intense worried feelings switched to anger as I said, "Fine, I'm on my way home" and slammed the phone down.

When I arrived home I found him face down on the bed wearing a robe. I was able to rouse him enough to get him under the covers. I turned out the light and lay there fuming. All of a sudden I heard bad noises coming from his side of the bed. Noises kind of like the 'ack ack' of a cat with the 'gurgle huk' of a drunk guy. I sat up, turned on the light and saw him doing the heaving motions. I screamed, "Get up!! Go to the bathroom!!! Run!!" He got up, stumbled around the bed and started running toward the bathroom. I glanced at the bathroom and my brain screamed "Crap!" because the door was closed. I frantically jumped out of bed and started running toward the door to try and avert disaster but drunk guy inertia beat me out. He hit the closed door, bounced off of it and then spewed all over the door. I arrived at the door just in time to turn the dripping door knob and guide him to the toilet. While he was having his special time with the porcelin, I was busy wiping the door down and muttering curses under my breath at him.

As Alan finished up he started to giggle. He laughed and laughed and said, "I think I drank too much." I said, "You think?!" I helped him up and turned on the shower. I tried to remove his vomit splattered robe but he protested, "It's the only thing keeping me warm." I managed to wrestle it off of him and pushed him into the shower. Then he turned around and said to me, "You're mean!" (Oh my, the foreshadowing. I hear that phrase almost everyday of my life now that I have kids.) And I said to him, "Oh, you don't know what mean is! You wait until tomorrow, mister!" (Again foreshadowing, I had the motherly instinct even back then.)

I'm not as think as you drunk I am

Over the weekend we had some very good friends visiting from out of town--I'll call them Barbie and Ken. They are married and have kids the same ages as our kids. They live in another state now and so when we get together we make up for lost time. We enjoyed a long evening that included much food and drink. In fact, between the four of us we polished off three bottles of wine and several beers. After they left, Alan and I stayed up to clean the kitchen. We then went upstairs to check on the kids. As we passed by the boys' bathroom we saw a startling sight--someone had totally yakked in our sink (you know puked, vomited, barfed, blew chunks, did the technicolor yawn.) We were stunned, baffled, appalled and amused all at the same time. It was a sight right out of a fraternity party. After careful examination of the contents and volume of said vomitus we concluded that all kids were ruled out as suspects. It had to have been either Ken or Barbie. Since Ken had to drive, he didn't have more than a beer or three so we deduced that it had to be Barbie. Because there had been no attempt to clean up the mess and the fact that it was totally out of character for Barbie, we were quite shocked. When it came time to clean it up Alan disappeared, assuming, I suppose, that since I'm a nurse I was used to such things. I guess that's fair. I have seen a lot of vomit in my lifetime but I don't think one ever becomes used to it. I have learned to breathe through my mouth though.

The next morning I got a call from Barbie who confessed to the act. She was mortified and very apologetic. She explained that after she did it she left the bathroom to go downstairs to get some paper towels for clean up. However, by the time her foot hit the last step, she had forgotten. She woke in the middle of the night with the horrible realization that yes, it happened and yes, I left it in their sink! Sometimes I worry that I spend too much time with friends reminiscing instead of making new memories. But I think we just made a new memory. And I will cherish it.

****I love drunk stories so feel free to share some of your own. And coming soon...one of my favorite drunk Alan stories. Which one will it be? So many choices.

OMG TMJ WTF?

My saga of woe all started last week when I decided to clean the house. I vacuumed way too much and ended up with a lower back ache. I still had to continue with my normal activities--herding children, working my shifts at the hospital and house management. So my backache started a downward spiral of self-pity. Lying horizontal on the couch is not conducive to blogging or even reading my favorite blogs. So I am sorry I have neglected you. But come on, we were on a break!!

Anyway, the weekend passed and I thought "Ok, a new week, a new beginning" but that was a bunch of optimistic crap. I ended up at the doctor on Tuesday being diagnosed with TMJ or Temporomandibular joint disorder. He thinks I am grinding my teeth in my sleep and causing severe pain in the left side of my jaw. He said it's caused by stress and then he shook his head knowingly when he found out I had two sons. So the treatment is an anti-inflammatory (isn't that the treatment for everything?) heat, soft foods and stress reduction. I almost asked him for a doctor's note to give to Alan. Sorry honey, can't put any very large items in my mouth, doctor's orders.

Yesterday while the kids were in school I spent the morning doing a jigsaw puzzle while listening to ABBA on my iPod. It was strangely soothing. Yes, I am aware that is how many mental patients spend their time. So what's your point? It helped. I am not totally back to normal but I am ready to catch up with everyone. So be patient with me, I am Temporomandibularly Challenged.

Hips don't lie

For me exercise is one of those things that I know I have to do but have never loved--much like going to the dentist, having a pap smear or performing a Lewinsky. I don't care what form of exercise I am doing, I loathe it and watch the clock until it is mercifully over. It starts in the parking lot of the gym. I am driving around looking for the closest parking spot to the door. What is wrong with me? I didn't get the exercise gene. I swear I don't think I have endorphins, I've never gotten high at the gym, dammit.

My other problem is that I have a phobia associated with working out. I can't work out without listening to my iPod but I love to sing loudly when I listen to my iPod. Though when I am singing at the top of my lungs I am always inside my house or cutting the grass where no one can here me. So as I am walking the treadmill yesterday morning I am scared to death that I am going to start screaming out, in a Tourette's like fashion, song lyrics. Can you imagine? I'm rolling along on the treadmill and all of a sudden I belt out "All my flavors are guaranteed to satisfy!" Or I'm stepping along on the cross trainer when I throw my arms up and rapping "Now just throw your hands in the motherfucking air and wave the motherfuckers like you just don't care. What's my motherfucking name? Snoop Doggy Dooooooooog. Bow wow wow, yipee oh yippe a, Bow wow wow yippee O Shit!" (I just opened my eyes to see all the gym people starting at me with shocked faces.) So you see the problem, it's just too risky.

Today I decided to change it up and take a Zumba class. It's a dance/exercise class to jaunty Latin tunes. I haven't taken an exercise class in years so at first I was quite rigid and self-conscious. The instructor was Woooo Hooooing and people were shouting out "Ya-Ha!" and "Arriba!" I'm serious, they were. Cynical me was thinking 'What the hell am I doing here?!' There was a lot of shaking body parts involved and a lot of fancy shamancy steps and then the instructor called out "Are you ready to party, ladies?! Do the Merengue step!" Oh Patrick Swayze! Help me, where ever you are!! Then the jumping started and I think I peed myself--yeah, a little bit. (Curse you Shepard and your big head!) Now she's screaming "Don't forget to breathe!" Fuck, I forgot to breathe! By the end of class I had loosened up a bit and was getting my Shakira on. I even threw out a little 'Wooooo.' I couldn't commit to the 'Hooooo' though. Maybe next class. After class, I found myself wandering in the parking lot like a freaking retard because I couldn't remember where my car was. My brain must have been oxygen deprived. I wish I had remembered to breathe!

Crucial, life affecting decisions

I am strangely at peace today. Though I was not thrilled with either candidate, I am glad it is decided. It was very exciting and hard not to get caught up in the historic aspect of the victory. And I have decided to adopt Shepard's philosophy of life which he learned in preschool--You get what you get and you don't throw a fit! So life is good and it's time to move on to more important decisions like my cell phone ringer.

I love personalized ringers. It is my greatest joy of cell phone ownership--to decide what ringer I would like for each of my family members and friends. I recently got a cool new phone and have to start from scratch with my ringers. I have already downloaded Alan's ringer--it's always been 'Sexual Healing' by Marvin Gaye. It's perfect for him but has caused some uncomfortable moments like when I was standing with the car mechanic and Alan called. I couldn't get to the phone fast enough and it kept singing "When I get that feeling, I want sexual healing..." The guy glared at me with a creepy smile and I could just read his thoughts, "Heh heh, you ain't a virgin, is ya?"

What I am stressing over now is what I am going to download as my all-purpose ringer. My most recent one was the theme song from "Halloween." But now that Halloween is over I am going to use that ringer for work. The two ringers I am considering are "Stronger" by Kanye West or "So What" by Pink. What do you think?

So after I make this most momentous decision I will move on to individuals--my mom, dad, and two sisters (they will be called JaJa and JuJu.) For my mom I was thinking 'Tara's theme' from Gone with the Wind 'cause she's a strong little southern belle. My dad will definitely have to be 'The Imperial March' from Star Wars.

I have two older sisters and they are more problematic. I used to have the theme from 'Cops' for my oldest sister JaJa because she is the grand dame of the Jerry Springer faction of my family. She has three daughters and, when they all lived together, they were very fond of calling the police on each other. When my middle sister JuJu heard my ringer for JaJa she thought it was hysterical. Good thing she didn't know that my ringer for her was 'Crazy Train.'

Decisions, decisions...I'll think about it tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is another day.

I fear change

Election Day. It's finally arrived and I am so relieved. When I woke up it was raining hard. I think God is crying. But I am trying to look on the bright side--the campaign is over. I am glad that at the end of the day we will finally know our fate. It's the not knowing that makes my stomach churn.

I took the boys with me and voted. I said to Sage, "Wasn't that exciting?" and he said, "No, it was kind of boring." I had no trouble voting--no long lines or riots in the street--yet. The worst part is that, like an idiot, I scheduled myself to work this evening. I called and told them I couldn't come in bcause I would be busy burying my guns in the backyard. They didn't buy it. I don't want to go to work, I would much rather sit in front of the TV all evening torturing myself.

Whoever wins I am not going to be happy. I don't like change, any kind of change. I like my life the way it is and I don't want either guy skulking around and telling me how much I have to sacrifice. However I did find this little clip. Wow, that sounds pretty good to me too. Can't wait!

***Hey Joe Biden, stop calling my house! The campaign is over, you freaking psycho!

Stream of Consciousness Monday

I woke up this morning in the middle of a dream about trick or treating geese. I don't remember what their costumes were. Dammit! All the pumpkin muffins are gone. I spent all day Thursday baking for 2 Halloween parties, one Fall festival and one Pumpkin festival. I do not really enjoy cooking but I do like to bake. I was about to make cupcakes for Shepard's preschool party when I read an email from the another child's mother. She said, "I just finished making cupcakes for the party tomorrow!" Whore! I told her I was making the cupcakes! Now I had to think of another snack to send in. I sent in string cheese cut to look like a finger with a grape on the end for a fingernail. The teacher loved it. Take that cupcake whore!

Yay, I just discovered that my love for Joe Jonas is not a forbidden love. He's 19! Why is my body rejecting alcohol as I get older? You would think it would be used to it by now. Had a slight hangover on Saturday from the neighborhood Halloween party Friday night. Sage was a faceless phantom and Shepard a ninja. The kids fell asleep in our bed that night and we were too tired and buzzed to move them. I had to move them back to their room at 4:30 am because Shepard kept head butting me in his sleep. Then we had to be up early for Shepard's 8:30 am soccer game. One of the coaches kids puked on the sideline. Guess he had a rough night too. Shepard scored three goals. He seems to be really into soccer. Sage never was. He would gallop around the field like a horse or bark at the other team. He didn't really score goals but the coach always complimented him on his intimidation tactics.

I think I am a sexual psychic. Last night I had a stomachache so I told Alan it was no go. But in the middle of the night, I woke up feeling quite...um, interested. However, we have to get up so early that I didn't want to wake Alan. So I just lay there thinking those thoughts you think when all of a sudden Alan was semi-conscious and one thing led to another and--Wow! So this morning Alan said, "Did we do something last night?" And I giggled and said, "Yeah, we did!" And he giggled and I giggled again. And later I realized "I woke him up with only the power of my dirty mind. I'm like a superhero!" Giggle.

We will have years of enjoyment from Alan's Halloween costume. I am making a list of all the family members that I want to punk.

And what do you think of me? Have you ever seen a sexier Halloween costume? I am so a'peel'ing.

Happy Monday!