for starters, i had 5 people magazines piled up unread. never in my 10 year subscription history have i had more than two stacked waiting to be cracked. i used my in-the-bed time yesterday to pour through those award show dress photos, those real life hero stories (one from gillette, wyoming!), adele's triumph, demi's spiral into addiction, and whitney's life in pictures. one of the most beautiful creatures in all of america dies an untimely death and the chosen cover photo is a black little orphan annie picture of whitney.
 |
| when i'm editor at people magazine, i'll redo this week's issue as a tribute to whitney. this will be my chosen photo. |
i went to you tube today to listen to her music, to get back that excited feeling from the 90's when i first heard whitney houston's (or nippy's, as was her pet name growing up) grooving jams. my most treasured whitney memory, well my only one really, is her 1991 superbowl singing of the national anthem. as i punched in the key words into you tube i had a flurry of thrill rush through me. surprising myself. only to be crushed when i discovered there was no volume on my laptop. so i mourned nippy in silence, watching her rendition of the national anthem. even without sound, her singing presence was powerful. her wide smile breathtaking. her sweating profuse. her white tracksuit too large. as soon as i diagnose and fix my volume problem, i plan to rewatch her in her glory days. peace to her family.
 |
| i bet it sounded better than it looked even. |
i've yet to find out why heidi and seal fell apart, but 4 peoples down in one day is a new record. i just hope seal isn't too scarred in the divorce process.
why so much time in bed yesterday you say? because saturday night was our big rollicking dinner party date. alien classed up with trousers and jacket, and a clean shave of his head. i slipped my 10 pounds lighter bod into a figure hugging black number that made alien's eyes bug out. i proudly walked around in that dress fixing my hair and tending to kids, for a half an hour. then i covered up with a black cardigan buttoned up past my cleavage, and we were on our way. i guess i can rock a revealing look around the house, but at the party, i wanted people looking at my face thinking about how funny i was when i hit the pun just right, not looking at my boobies. plus, i've got plenty of pounds still to shed and i was already exhausted from sucking in my gut while curling my hair.
my arm was like a machine, up down up down, glass to mouth, swallow, swallow. it was as if someone had whispered to me before the party that tonight was the last night to drink alcohol. ever. and i had to get my drunk on before the end of the world. I HAD A BLAST. the jokes and puns were flying out of everyone's mouths, and the conversation was top notch, and the laughs were bountiful. had a truly fabulous night.
it has been a long time since i was so hammered that i don't remember bits of the night, but i don't remember bits of the end of the night. drawing a blank. thankfully only 3 pictures have surfaced on facebook, and while i look tipsy and unfocused in one of the photos and way too huge in the other picture, the third picture is just of the dessert, so i think i'm in the clear. i strategically left my phone in my bag far away from me the whole night, in a concerted (and successful) effort to pay attention to live people all night and further neglect my children. this left me without a camera, and i see now this was for the best.
sunday morning. eye chee mama. i did not get out of bed. all day. bert made me peanut butter toast around 2pm that i choked down and then lay perfectly still so it didn't come back up. later, i sipped on water and listened to the liquid swishing around in my empty stomach. i read my peoples. i slept. i neglected my children. i avoided my responsibilities. at 6pm i did get up after everyone pitched in to make taco salads for supper. by then i was ready for a meal and scarfed it down. although my headache sent me back to bed shortly after.
hang. overs. suck. it's a big reminder that i'm aging. i could do a rager like that each night of the weekend back in the day and still laugh and talk the next morning. with my hands tied behind my back. not anymore. about three glasses of wine or beers is my absolute limit before i'm going to feel nasty effects the next day. such is the life of the elderly.
the bachelor is on soon. i need to go now to pretend i'm going to do our taxes before i let bachelor ben bore me to tears again tonight. but really i think i'll do the
No comments:
Post a Comment