Thanks for seein' about a girl, friend. here's where I'm writing my own history—for you, for me and anyone else who needs to laugh to keep from cryin' every once in awhile.

Less Calories, Same Surprise.

Ga!

Danita: 1, Bottle of Pinot Grigio now resting at the bottom of my trashcan: 0.

I win ... and so you win, because this is as close as I'll get to drunk texting(Well, maybe not since I discovered the rather nifty AIM feature where I can text your phone from my IM. Sweet. Sorry, Fidge.); plus, I've ingested enough calories from the consumption of alcohol to permit you to eat one whole box of Cracker Jacks and to enjoy the prize you find inside (hence, in the most roundabout of ways, the title). 

Anyway, it's Monday night. (I only say this, not because I'm stupid tipsy, but just in case you don't read the heading portion of the page where I list my location, the post's title and the tunes that I'm currently wanting to share with you to which you should so listen, as they are most worthy tunes.)

(The reason I can't leave LJ is because I love that song listing feature.)

(Moving on, and if you're lucky, out of the parentheses.)

Hi. 

Shaking limbs loosely, moving neck side to side as if loosening up, wringing wrists as if recently freed from confines of cuffs that are strangely reminiscent of parentheses.

How many times can I say "as if" in one sentence. Geesh.

This post is Rachel's doing, because I told her about the vino I planned to consume and she replied, "this is always entertaining for us."

Us, of course, being no more than 3 people. Max.

Anyway. I spent $30 in the liquor store when it could have very easily been $80. I had an armful of stuff before I realized that a) they'd recently waxed their floors and me and the high heels at day's end weren't up to the challenge of walking gracefully and b) I have never done anything gracefully, so who would I be kidding by trying to act like I can carry multiple BREAKABLE bottles of such-and-such in my mere arms?

So I put some stuff back. The security guard assured me, with his visibly (cue my tendency to be painfully redundant) noticeable biceps, that he was "more than willing" to assist me. He also informed me that he'd be free by 9:30.

Tee hee, I giggled as I Jackee Harry'd myself 227-style to the checkout. (I just added that 227 in case y'all didn't readily recall who Jackee was, not because I intentionally like to be as redundant as possible. Although, I do.)

I am "happy" enough right now that I would probably do each of the following:

1. Karaoke -- Any song, your pick. I will sing that like nobody's bidness, because I am happy. And I know it. I will even clap my hands.
2. Baby Dance or Shindig! Special -- Because I know it would make Rachel laugh hysterically, and that would cause other people to laugh, because she's contagious. (In a clean and decent way of course.)

I have a better understanding now of how artists feel compelled to express themselves when they are under the influence. I could very easily walk on stage now, as I feel adventurous.

I am also eyeballing the newly purchased watercolour kit, sitting on my couch.

(I feel it's necessary also to point out what one is NOT eyeballing ... namely, the finely primed elliptical machine that's standing in what would be my mid-stride...)

I wish I had a Janis Joplin album; she's my poster figure for letting go and letting it be ... my que sera sera sister.

Cheers ... or, in the words of my alma mater, "Here's a health, Carolina..."

... In my mind, I'm coming home to you.

Me, Twiddle Dee & Tipsy Rum