So I am here in LA, working my little rump right off, working for the swill merchants of the American machine…
And I have to say I am pretty fucking happy. I love my little car, I have paid off almost my entire debt, I totally have a boyfriend (weird), and I like him so much, and in general I am just really really happy and doing awesome.
I had the entire week off (!!) and it was just so nice to finally have a little time to get my car cleaned, and do some shopping and I did my taxes, and my shit is just super on point…
And it feels good.
I just love being happy. I think I used to take happy for granted, and now I know how hard I have worked to be here, now, and happy.
And I totally totally am.
I’ve said it before, and I hope to say it again.... But,
happy days.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Sunday, March 05, 2006
VERY DRUNK
At the airport. Its probably a federal offence, I am probably breaking the security act, or the patriot act, or the decency act, or whatever- but mama is SHITFACED at the airport. 7:37am. My flight leaves in 2 hours and I am HAMMERED. Sitting with my very sober dad at the fort Lauderdale airport, drunk as a skunk… 3 sheets to the wedding, hanging on my a shred, fucking wasted, blotto, still drunk from last night. Just. Drunk.
The last thing I remember was switching to tequila with my uncle,. HE HAD NEVER HAD PATRON. That needed to be remedied. I found my phone on the front lawn, or, I should say, my father found my phone on the front lawn by the rental car. I don’t remember a fucking thing. But in the words of my father I was a “total asshole”.
I’ve been drunk a million times, and I’ve made a jackass of myself at least that many times, but somehow being that sloppy in front of my 20 years sober father makes it all more vivid…
I think it was a fun wedding. I think. I actually remember very little. Dad says I was trying to light a cigarette in the car on the way home, and telling him to fuck off.. and god knows what else.
Dads been sober for almost 20 years, and he hates that I drink. Can you blame him? I’m a fucking sloppy drunk bastard (and especially so this morning)… all I want to do is get on the plane and pass out. Oh my god. Drunk.
Have to eat a bagel. Or two. Or twelve. And maybe a bloody mary. Or twelve. Ha.
God I smell good. MMMMMMMM.
I look good
The last thing I remember was switching to tequila with my uncle,. HE HAD NEVER HAD PATRON. That needed to be remedied. I found my phone on the front lawn, or, I should say, my father found my phone on the front lawn by the rental car. I don’t remember a fucking thing. But in the words of my father I was a “total asshole”.
I’ve been drunk a million times, and I’ve made a jackass of myself at least that many times, but somehow being that sloppy in front of my 20 years sober father makes it all more vivid…
I think it was a fun wedding. I think. I actually remember very little. Dad says I was trying to light a cigarette in the car on the way home, and telling him to fuck off.. and god knows what else.
Dads been sober for almost 20 years, and he hates that I drink. Can you blame him? I’m a fucking sloppy drunk bastard (and especially so this morning)… all I want to do is get on the plane and pass out. Oh my god. Drunk.
Have to eat a bagel. Or two. Or twelve. And maybe a bloody mary. Or twelve. Ha.
God I smell good. MMMMMMMM.
I look good
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