Weird Wine

I love booze and occasionally like to indulge in excessive drinking of booze...only occasionally. I like to indulge with the same people usually, as I tend to be very drunk, loud, inappropriate, obscene and occasionally not fully clothed.

My friend Phillip works at a place that sells food and booze. This past Saturday I got off at 6 and he got off at 8. We had plans to hang out after and I decided that I would go to his work and get drunk while he was working and then he could drive me home and we could get more drunk.

I order a bottle of really yummy wine from Phillip and sit down with my young adult novel and begin to drink. I decided that I must finish this bottle in an hour and a half time frame. I think the other workers felt sorry for me, they kept asking me if I ordered food and when I received my bottle of wine I was given 2 glasses (I left one on a random table), and finally after I was almost done with my wine I was given 2 tokens to get wine or beer really cheap from a nice gentleman.

Also Phillip later told me that his boss liked me and would hire me if I wanted a job. I asked him if I could get discounted wine or beer, he said no, so I declined that job offer.

I didn't read very much, I mostly texted my friend Kasey. Drunk reading is very enjoyable though.

By the time Phillip was off I was very drunk. We went to my apartment to check on my cat and to get a box of wine that we hadn't finished yet.

Once we had properly played with my cat and gotten that half full box of wine we went back to Phillip's and got to work.

We finished that wine in no time. I cried because I thought my parents hated me and were punishing me for changing my major(they don't, I just don't understand their "logic" if you can even call it that.) We talked about how awesome we will one day be in the theater world and before we knew it the wine was gone! So we decided to walk to a liquor store to get more.

We of course took my camera and documented part of the journey. Then we met Lonnie, a 35 year old homeless man who we spent an hour sitting with under an over pass. We told him we were homeless too and  to go to Papa Johns because they would probably feed him. He asked if we were high and I am pretty sure that lead to a delightful conversation about all the drugs our new friend Lonnie had done. I was still really drunk and kept telling the homeless man that he had a warm soul.

After we homeless went our separate ways, Lonnie to find food and we to find booze, I somehow injured my hand. I woke up with a blood blister on my hand and grass in my bra. We were almost to the liquor store when there was a cop car and I got scared, so I handed my money to Phillip and probably said something like "I'll be here, go get us wine my child." While Phillip went and got the 2 cheapest bottles of wine he could find I sat on the step of an Indian food restaurant. I am unsure how we made it home, but we so did.

We then went on an inappropriate photoshoot, I had WTMB exposed and we used Phillip's exercise bands as props, oh and all of the cars in the parking lot, and a tree, and steps....

We called Papa John's at 2:20 because we fucking wanted pizza. We were on hold until 2:48 and they told us they stopped taking orders at 2:45. Phillip told them we have been on hold since 2:20 and they said sorry and hung up. Phillip made my facebook status about it.

Phillip decided we would watch Rock-a-Doodle and he would make pizza. I remember him saying the crust will be a tortilla shell and then I fell asleep.

I should add that earlier we ate a whole thing of biscuits with jelly. I was drunk when I bought the biscuits and a man tried to get me to let him buy my biscuits with his link card and I refused. I didn't understand why he would want to do that and then Phillip explained that if he bought my biscuits with his link and I gave him the money then he could use my money to get booze or cigarettes and that was illegal! I was glad I said no.

When I awoke Phillip was sitting on the floor eating pizza made of tortilla shell, Alfredo sauce, velveta cheese, 1 piece of bacon, pickles and only drunk Phillip knows what else. So I of course dug in. We finished Rock-a-Doodle and went to sleep. We didn't even finish one bottle of wine...

My Favorite Things

Cats sleeping in my lap
Castle Park
The "you are my sunshine" spot
Reading on the beach
Reading outside
Iced Coffee
Old Stuff
Target
Sundresses
My clear umbrella
Sleeping in
Lots of pillows
Crafts
My awesome insulin pump
Finding cool stuff for free
Taking way too many pictures and then subjecting the world to view them
fruit punch
being barefoot outside in the summer
A specific hot tub

Angsty

I'm so angsty as of late. And according to my spell check angsty isn't even a word!
Fuck you spell check fuck you!
I don't even know why, honestly I don't.
I thought I was supposed to be over these angsty feelings by now, I haven't felt this weird in a while.
I am not depressed, been there, I think angst is the only word I feel comfortable describing my weirdness with.
Probably because I don't know whats causing the weirdness.
Part of it may be a riff in a friendship, we both have weirdness happening, another part may be the new job, and then the constant part of my displeasure is my perpetual singleness(this is my number one issue, I know that.)

I know what I need, I need someone to shut up and just listen to me. I need them to ask me questions and let me answer them, I need someone to just be quiet and tell me it's all going to be okay. (Because I know it will be, I just want to be told by someone who I don't normally hear it from.)

I need someone new to talk to, maybe an old person, on their front porch or maybe a child on a playground. I need someone who knows things I don't or remembers things I have forgotten. I need a storybook read to me where I get to be the princess,  a prince doesn't need to save me in fact I would prefer if he didn't, but I need less harping and more helping.

Taking Names and Killing Snakes

I am about to describe this event as it happens.

My Mom and Dad are currently trying to kill a snake, I am watching from the island bar in our kitchen, my little brother and his friend are playing magic cards behind me in the dining room, and the cats are chasing bugs and watching from the window too.

Now Neil is going to scare Mom, I am still on snake watch.

Let me describe the earlier events while nothing exciting is happening.

It's Mother's Day and I am home until Tuesday. Mom bought a bunch of flowers, seeds and ferns and she was showing them to me. After we toured the gardens, we sat on our back porch and admired our land  and the nice weather and planned for our gardening tomorrow. The dogs sat at our feet and our cats occasionally paid attention to us. Dad came outside for a while. Now I don't even remember what we were talking about, but I got distracted by something moving on the upper corner of our back porch and I thought that looks like a snake! And it was a snake! So I yelled SNAKE! And we ran to the door! Which was locked! So we beat on it and yelled for Neil and Dad and Neil's friend Ian! Finally Neil answers the door and says "Is there a snake?" To which we reply yes!

Well the snake is dead now, after an epic battle, which I will now describe.

After sitting inside and starting this blog and exchanging witty snake killing banter with my family inside and through the glass, this is how the death happened.

We have had snakes get up under the roof of our back porch before (and we killed them too) so we knew how this was about to go down. Mom sprayed bleach and water and Dad sprayed wasp spray into the lip of our porch, and then we wait, well they wait and I typed that first big paragraph. So we wait and spray more water and bleach and then the snake starts to slither down the square pole that holds up our porch. Since the pole is square the snake falls about halfway down, stupid idiot snake, then Mom comes after it with a shovel. She strikes it and keeps coming back up and then Dad comes to help and Mom yells "Get the pruners and cut its head off! He is slippery and I need help!" Dad instead of getting the pruners grabs a sponge mop that we happen to have laying outside (we are classy like that, actually I bet Mom used it to wash the side of the house.) I guess the sponge mop could have absorbed some of the slippery off the snake? The snake moves back to the porch from the rocks it had been in and mom keeps swinging the shovel and the snake keeps striking up to bite. Finally after numerous blows Mom finally severs the evil snake being and then my parents bash it a few more times just to be safe. Moments after the snakes death, Neil arrives with a rake. I sat and watched the carnage happen from the safety of my tall kitchen chair.

Now we must decide what to do with the snake, Dad says throw it in the fence row, but Mom decided to burn it.

Dad said I should have videoed the killing, but I said it was really violent and I don't particularly like to video violence, unless it is well acted or between stuffed animals.

We decided this was our stance against snakes on out property "We see you, we find you, we kill you."

I have never killed a snake, I prefer to run into my parents arms screaming and begging for them to kill the evil thing with no arms. I don't think I could kill a snake unless it was a life or death situation, I would be too scared or feel bad after, even though the things terrify me.

After witnessing my parents and my brother with their tools and in action, I think my family will be fine if there is ever a zombie invasion and that is what really matters.

Happy Mother's Day! I am going to do laundry now.

I can’t help but say the words I cannot say

I can’t help but say the words I cannot say.

Every time something begins to begin to be fun someone seems to stop it out or ruin it. Now I am not saying I don’t have fun, but it seems to be the simple things that are most fun.

Every time I think I can break my shell someone seems to come and tape it up, 

“Nope you aren’t really ready to be you yet let me spackle on some more doubts and fears and insecurities for you to deal with.”

Really, I thought I had enough already? 

But if you say so, go ahead pile them on, no really I don’t mind, I am just timid little Sarah who listens and agrees and shuts up when told to. 

If I can’t talk about it with you who can I talk too? 

I can trace this back to the beginning. 

I’ve always wanted to be an actress and instead of encouraging me to try, my parents encouraged me to pick a “more sensible path.” Which really is fine, I get it. They encouraged me and helped me a lot and they still do, but I think that is the first time I was told to change and I did. But I can’t, I love theater, I really do I can’t even imagine my life without it. It moves me. I need it and now I am in school for at least another year to get that degree when I knew that was what I wanted to do since I was 8. 

(But my parents really are awesome)

The second major crushing blow to my being me happened in high school. I was quiet in high school and didn't cuss and had hopes of still being a virtuous soul when I graduated. I wasn’t, I wasn't at all. 

Peer pressure sucks, once in junior high myself and some friends were on the playground and they were trying to get me to say, Mother Fucker. Now I can say, type, spit, yell, scream that word with no problem, then it was different story. I said mother with no hesitation, but when it came to the f bomb, no such luck. 

Anyways flash forward to high school, I don’t remember exactly what year it was probably freshman or sophomore my high school boyfriend and I were at a secluded spot on the edge of town and his car had a sunroof. After what I am sure was an intensely tame lame make out session, I opened his sunroof and proceeded to sit on top of his car and sing loudly. He asked what I was doing and then we got into a fight. Why were we fighting? Oh because I wasn't being the timid little Sarah he “loved.” 

When he said I don’t know about the new you I formed a shell to live in as the real me, the loud Sarah who likes to dance crazy even while shes sober, the Sarah who isn't scared to stand up for herself or others, the Sarah who can express and back her opinion with ease. 

I melted into the seat of that charcoal Eclipse faster than butter in a skillet, I probably said something like Okay sweetie and then I probably shut up and held his hand as he sped me home. 

Occasionally, someone can break the shell and I have fun, but almost immediately I get put back inside before I can even gather the pieces of the shell to destroy them. Even when I try to storm off someone comes to find me, they won’t even let me brood, they know I am too nice.

Mother Fuckers. 

It still happens even now, people who I love keep patching the holes over so I can’t escape. I guess it would be people I love who want to keep me the same, but I can’t and I know it’s only a matter of time before I get out. 

I know I have someone with a pick axe on my side and maybe, just maybe if I can dance and yell loud enough I can get out.