oh beer. oh dear. every year you get the best of me i turn into the worst of me and i'm just now getting back to normal. back then i'd call richard and moan and cringe and swear i'd never drink another drop again. or i'd call texaho, and we'd shrug and say that's just the way it is. this time.. pretty bad. but at least everyone is so kind. i don't want to go back to that bar again. thats all i'm saying.
more rain, more parties. people i don't know, social akward moments, and no extra beer to drink. its a hard thing to be aroung people. constant reminder that i have diareah of the mouth. we say strange things like it's commonplace. i don't have to time to keep myself from offending anyone. life is short and i'm about 40 years in.
40. fuck. i still haven't written a novel. and i haven't really been anywhere. its times like this i try to think like a george harrison song. why are people so strange? why does living have to be so hard. i love my husband. i don't know how i'd make it thru the slipperly steps of these social constructs. mad swirl was insanity. the curmudgeon attacked me verbally and drowned in his solitude as i can back to him with a counter attack. i dont even look at him in the face. thursday the drunken bday fiasco. innapropriate behavior abound. too many beers. too much anxiety drowning in the heavy hop pint glasses. music. drums..drums drums.. jelously and insecurity.. more beers. friday a wash. saturday sober akwardness and amy winehouse hairdo. anglofied partyness. my brown can't get down. today family time, walking the pulga that smells like roasted corn and sounds like poppers hitting the ashphalt. i shoulda bought some shoes. sandwiches and long rides back home..i burned dinner but everyone thought it was good. the hours are ticking away and i have to go back to work again. these past four days off i remembered who i was again and i liked it, even if i am just really fucked up after all. happy birthday to me.
