I have been cranky lately, really cranky. In part I feel it is because my phantom allergy is back that makes it impossible for me to breathe at night…which makes it impossible for me to sleep…which makes me really cranky, and then I get down right pissed off when every one else around me is snoring so loud that I want to stuff socks up there nostrils so they know how I feel. Then the farts start coming…oh no dear internet not from my delicate pretty flower of a self…from everyone around me (I say everyone like, I sleep in a homeless shelter -that may smell better-, just my husband and two giant dogs who all get farty at night). This is when I get homicidal in the night. Tell me Mother of God, how is it I cannot breathe through the same nose that could allow this bowels of hell-like stench through…I don’t get it.

Instead of have that falling thing that people get when falling asleep, I have that suffocating thing when falling asleep…even with a xanax. Yes, Yes, I know xanax are not decongestants…but it makes the act of not being able to breathe, just a little less, oh you know, ANGSTY.

And if my husband reads this maybe by now his attention will be drawn elsewhere… (I do really love you honey, you know that!)

It takes a while but eventually I do fall asleep. However, about 4:00 am is when I wake up to use the little girls room, the room that no-one is allowed in when I am in there, mkay thx. On these nights I usually wake up all sweaty and sleepy, a little crusty, possibly with my hair all knotted up in the back looking a little like David Coverdale, you know that hot mess that is such a turn on, yeah that one…

…mmmm. (here I go again…)

So out of bed I sneak, to go potty, not turning on any lights…shhhh quiet like a mouse with my eyes half shut, working my way stealthily like a ninja back to the bed, only to walk FOOT FIRST INTO THE DOG CRATE THAT HAS BEEN BY MY SIDE OF THE GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING BED SINCE SEPTEMBER…HOLY FUCK THAT HURT.

“Shhhhh, it’s fine, sorry to wake you” (holding back the tears of pain because my pinky toe is now pointing straight up)

Eventually the pain stops, I start to fall asleep, breathing is relatively normal and then…

He rolls over…starts to cuddle…which is very sweet…but also wakes me up (only fair you say since I woke him up, sure one good turn deserves another right?) I breathe and try to fall asleep, try to breathe for him so he will fall asleep, as if the magic powers of my breathing will put him under and we can all get back to the fantastic business of sleeping soundly. But then it happens…the poke. Yeah the gentle, but persistent poke, the slow…rhythmic…poke… that makes me crack up as I am sitting here writing this because you know he didn’t bring a banana to bed, there aren’t even bananas in the house.

(He said it was European cucumber and there are those in the house)

(I know you probably didn’t really need this visual…heh heh)

Some nights the poke works, some nights it doesn’t…I will just leave it at that.

Sweet Dreams!

With Great hesitation, and I mean great hesitation, I threw my self into the doormat positon and invited my college bestfriend/roommate, whom I have not seen in several thousand years…yes dear internet I am that old.  Not to say that she made me feel like a doormat then, but I may associate that time of knowing her as being somewhat like a doormat for others. To say that we were very close is an understatement.

(isn’t it nice how the font changed from the pretty grey above to the harsh black below with out me doing a damn thing?)

She has been to my home for Christmas, I have been to her home for Yom Kippur.  She has eaten my mothers Croquembouche and I have eaten her mother’s Koogle (that just sounds totally sexual and jewish). We have been on spring break together,

We both got the same tattoo at different times at Jim’s Tattoo Parlor in New Hampshire.

At that time, you know around the turn of the century, if you wanted a tattoo you had to leave the state of Massachusetts. 

Kitty could drink this shit neat,

but if you wanted ink you had slum your way into some place that looked a lot like this,

to come out with something that looked a lot like this. 

Which now looks a lot like this. 

And hope that you didn’t leave with some unseen godforsaken disease.

Post college we have lived very different lives. She got married right away and started procreating immediately and then developed a nice career for herself.  I, on the other hand floundered around dating multiple douche bags.  Working in jobs (not developing a nice career) that I didn’t much care for, getting fired, absolutely not procreating in anyway, thank God. All while trying to attain the lofty goal of being an actor.  Until one day I thought to my self ‘I hate these people, Actors are the worst, most evil, flaky people out there’ plus you know I was almost 2000 years old at that point and felt the need to try and be a little more grounded and oh you know, make some money.  (since douchbag # 2 was spending it all, on other chicks, with out me…ooohhh yeah cause that’s how I roll!)

Okay, um where was I going…Oh right. So after thousands of years gone by my college best friend (CBF from here on out) came for an overnight a couple weeks back, she brought me a gift (a nice pretty gift) and some wine  ( some how after not seeing each other for eons, she still knows her way into my heart) which we drank all night long.

This is me after drinking all that wine she gave me. 

She posted this on the web for lots and lots of people to see…. obviously I am okay with that.  

So here are some of the things I have learned after my slumber party

1. While life and time and distance may make things seem different. Things don’t really change that much.  We still are able to have a great time together.
2. Just because someone’s life has gone in a different direction then mine does not make them weird.
3. Having your CBF come visit you and your new best friend (husband) is cool too, (I think they liked each other), not awkward at all.
4. I am thankful for all of the great people I have in my life that have changed my doormat, from this 

 to this

To this Finally.

What I have also learned is that no matter who you are, if I care for you, and if you hold a special place in my heart, then you will always be with me and you are always welcome.  The life I have built with my husband is something I want to share with you. And have a good laugh and a few drinks and whatever else.  Cheers!

Here we are, reconnecting….do you think she had some work done, her head is awfully round and shiny.