Bex had this idea to do a Mythbusters thing where she tracks her mood and mental state as she drinks wine. So I am going to do the same.
I am two glasses in. Thus far all I feel is a bit sleepy and my head is beginning to ache.
More likely that’s the cookout, which was had in the rain which a bunch of my brother’s high school friends I didn’t know. They’d had a redneck golf tournament in town so all these people were out golf carts hauling little trailers with canopies. It was bizarre even to me. The teeny bopper friends of my brother’s asked, “Rebecca, do you have an English accent?”
Morons. I said, “I’m a dumb hillbilly and even I know people from England have English accents.” I don’t think I made any new friends. Well, sarcasm is my superpower, sue me. I’m a mouthy bitch at times. Usually when nervous. And all those unfamiliar people asking dumb questions made me nervous. Then my brother butted in and told me I should crack down on my kid and she’d behave better. This from a kid twice charged with stalking and restraining orders put against him. Yeah, shut the fuck up. Beyond me how someone with the emotional age of 8 (documented and proven, he gets disability for it) gets a diploma. He already smashed the fender of his mom’s SVU because he’s so…challenged. But ya know, he’s the family saint.
Okay..Onto wine time.
8:22 pm- Nothing. Headache. Ass trash. It’s too fucking humid. I can’t breathe. Give me a machete to slice through the fucking air, please.
8:52 pm- Floating. Still coherent and sober but relaxing. Bex tried beef jerky and did not like it so I won the lottery. I LOVE beef jerky, have since I was 5. It is snack of the gods. Even my cat likes it, proving british people are weird. I mean, wtf kind of country doesn’t sell beef jerky? WEIRDOS
9:31 pm- I think Becca is drunk. Maybe not literally, but she claimed in her blog she is making me a music whore and that I love Greenday. First, I’ve been a music whore since age 8. I prefer music to people. Second, even as a snarky wenchy joke, saying I like Greenday is NOT remotely funny. I have less shame for downloading a Fresh Beat Band song for my kid. WENCH. I feel decent. It could turn on a dime, though. I have mad munchies. Not hunger, but idle boredom munchies. Jerky, brownie bites. Hell, I may be in the cat food next. I’m random that way.
9:43 pm- I just proclaimed “I love you man, I love everyone right now.” Yeah, the wine is kicking in. Cos ya know, I hate people equally. As long as the mood keeps going up, it’s all good. When it starts going down, then it’s all ass trash from there. (And the proof is that I miss my demon seed. It’s nice to get a break, but the place feels so empty without her incessant chatter and screaming mimis. Yeah, I know, I’m an enigma. Which is a polite euphamism for “crazy bitch.” I LOVE that song.)
10:04 pm-last night, I was wine wench. Tonight Bex has offered to fill the position. Excellent. I am far too busy peeing every half hour to get my own drink. Apparently I handle my alcohol fine but my bladder has issues. I am doing well as is Bex. This is cool. She just put a cd on and ya know, my control freak nature didn’t even flinch. First time for everything, I guess. My brain keeps saying, ‘Well, she has a submissive personality and she’s just that nice, it doesn’t intimidate you.” I don’t think it’s that simple or shallow, though. I think we just mesh that well. As she told someone earlier, “Niki is my other half.” I feel the same way. Two halves of the same coin.I suppose in the long run, it’s not about common interests or things to talk about or whatever. I think it boils down to personality type. Extrovert begets extrovert, introvert begets introvert.
Too me fucking long enough to find a fellow extrovert. And I had to IMPORT her.
10:18 P.M.- I am to the point where reality is becoming a slight blur. Like, awhile ago, I SWORE the clock said it was after 11pm. Now I go write thisw and it’s only after ten. My brain is fucking with me. Or more likely, the wine is. C’est la vie. It’s all good. AC/Dc is playing, the wine is flowing, our moods are meshing…And I still think a country without beef jerky is a third world country full of freaks.
10:38 p.m.- I think it’s safe to say I am officially inebriated. I am listening to a Greenday song and not vomiting. Plus, I’ve been dancing around and singing happily. WTF? Happiness is a goddamn disease, ffs. I don’t wanna be diseased, I wanna be healthy. Bring back the gloom damn it.
Wine says…Not right now. It’s like a Magic 8 ball. “Better not tell you now.” “Time will tell.” “It is uncertain.”
I;m talking gibberish and I think it’s adorable. I listened to teenage girl babble tonight and tried not to have a brain bleed, yet people find me annoying? Whatever. We are listening to “Cell Block Tango” from “Chicago” soundtrack and this song is…hysterical. I agree. Some guys just can’t handle their arsenic.
10:53 pm- We are listening to “MMmBop.” Yes, shameful, but a really upbeat song that is like instant anti depressant for me. Bex has blogged that I am talking to my cats again and it’s weird (I am guilty, and it’s not weird, they are my furchildren!) plus she is claiming I forced her to listen to 30 Seconds To Mars. I don’t own a gun, I can’t force a 4 year old to do shit, so yeah, make it plausible, biatch. Besides…I like 30STM, in spite of myself. Leto may be a reputed douche but the guy has talent. Though I must admit he is the first guy I have ever seen with long hair and thought, “Oh, god, get a haircut.” (And put the eyeliner back on, for the love of fuck!!!)
11:07 pm The Wench just said I take longer to pee and wash hands than she does. Damn that competitive streak of hers, she is trying to make biological processes like urination a competition. I don’t have a competitive bone in my body. She’s just being all ass trashy. H0wever, if you need plotting or manipulation skills…I am your sociopath. Survival of the most cunning, bitches.
11:16 p.m. My day is complete. I have mocked Greenday something fierce. Take that, incompetent wine wench! Now…It’s Wednesday 13′s “Transylvania 90120.” SAWSOME!!! No doubt Bex will mock my headbanging. Like I care. Wednesday makes me happy. And I have been assimilating like The Bord. When my sister pulled out of Dad’s tonight, she was blaring Wednesday’s “Dixie Dead.” YESSSSS. You WILL be assimilated, resistance is futile bitches!!! WWWD? What Would Wednesday do????
12:28 a.m.- Bex is about to pass out on me yet she is still extolling the virtues of Greenday and Billie Joe Armstrong. Um…Dude? Outside how hot Billie Joe looked in the video for “21 Guns”…I don’t care. I am shallow that way. Music either makes me feel something or it doesn’t…and I’m not feeling Greenday. Like most everything in my life, I find a couple of things they’ve done likeable but mostly…NOT. Now give me an EARGASM like 30 Seconds to Mars does…I am sold. Until then…Underwhelmed. And for the record, I NEVER set out to like 30STM. It just kinda happened. Because I heard a song (The Kill) and had no idea who it was but I LOVED it and that is all that matters.
I’m in it for the eargasms, dude.
12:35 am- I think I too am hitting the wall. I’ve barely written a page and a half in four hours. I get more than that done with the Uzi around. Apparently being drunk does not lend to one’s typing, nor creative, skills. Ass trash. Oh, well. I am gonna sleep in and enjoy mommy free time while knowing she is being well cared for.
So…That is the end of my post lest I pass out before I can finish it. For once, my mood went up instead of down and I didn;t even go manic. Excellent. (I have hiccups ,fuck fuckity fuck.)
Niters to all, and to all, a good fright. I mean, good night.
Ghouls do that.