A Comedy of Errors

Yesterday Sam and I had our annual Post Thanksgiving Bash. He gets a free turkey from work, so the weekend after Thanksgiving we have all of our friends over. We cook the bird, have everyone over and feast. Thanksgiving with your family is great and all, but you never get to have everyone in your life there that make a difference. I look at my friends as an extension of my family. And this is our way of saying that we’re glad to have them all in our lives.

Plus we get to feast again.

Did I mention the copious amounts of beer and wine Jeremy and Chris P. brought over? Because that was outstanding.

I’m a little sad to say that I probably would not have enjoyed myself as much as what I had be it not for Jeremy’s booze run. That isn’t to say that I need a few drinks in me in order to have a good time. Usually (and I’m going to apply that to the past few years) I only really indulge in the drink for New Year’s, and Fourth of July. And weddings. Any other holiday (Christmas, Thanksgiving, St. Patrick’s Day, birthdays, etc.) I’ll have maybe one or two. Something to enjoy the taste of, but nothing to get tipsy over.

Yesterday, though. Oh boy. In addition to working in the morning (work has really been grinding my gears lately) AND having it be That Time, I was also having panic attacks pretty much the entire day. The thought occurred to me Friday evening, "What if Carissa decides to show up anyway and crash the party?" I was seriously going out of my mind thining of all the possible things that could happen in that situation. From how she would enter the house, to what she would say, to what I would say, and how things would escalate. I thought of at least 100 different combinations of scenarios that could possibly happen. In my head, they all ended with me bitch slapping her because she said something snotty to me.

This was seriously what was going through my mind for almost twelve hours. I don’t even really want to admit to that. Because putting it out there means that she’s under my skin. Or she’s ‘winning’ or some other such bullshit. I don’t really want to admit that this whole falling out still bothers me. I know it still bothers me though because I still care. Not just about all the horrible things we have said to and about each other (Now she’s telling people I want to shake her baby. WTF.) But she used to be a really good friend. I hate having fall outs with people, especially when we were so close. And it really sucks because I know it has been pushed to the point where there is no fixing this. There will be no, "Let’s hug and make up and we’ll be besties again." I’m not saying that because I don’t want to try. I say that because I know that will never be any level of trust there again.

But yeah. Jeremy was my Knight in Shining Armor when he came from the packie with Googs with a whole handle of White Zinfandel. Among other thngs. But I could care less about the seven (that isn’t an exaggeration) cases of beer he brough back with him. Or the other three bottles of wine he picked up. Two (very full) glasses of White Zinf later, and I couldn’t care less about Carissa, or all of the thoughts buzzing through my head about her. And that, my friends, was a godsend.

It wasn’t supposed to be a boozer, but it was awesome. I had a really great time. All of my favorite people came. Even my brothers showed up (after almost everyone else left.) Christopher brought his girlfriend, Christie, with him. I have to say, last night was not my night for first impressions. But seeing how I can’t take that back, it will have to do.

Yeah. Me and Googs drank most of this. Meg, Jess, and Katie all had a glass out of this, as well. But looking at how much is left….

This morning I woke up feeling so sick.

Before you say it: No. It was not a wine-over. After Joey and Christopher showed up, I switched to water. And continued drinking the good old H20 until I was good and sober.

No. This was me catching Sam’s cold. It was inevitable, considering how much time we spend together. We sleep in the same bed. We snuggle. It was going to happen, so I’m not shocked by it. But I still hate waking up sick. I had sinus pressure, but only on one side. So I felt like half of my face was going to explode, I couldn’t walk straight because my ear on that same side was clogged and my equilibrium was thrown off. My throat was sore, I had snot running out of my nose, and I had mucus running down the back of my throat like it was going out of style.

I know. The imagery is so fetching.

That was how my day started.

Last night, I couldn’t remember why I had taken today off. So me, being my stupid drunk self, figured that I took the day off so I could drink and be hungover and whatnot the next day. And thus, I was allowed to make drunk plans with Sam and Mike S.

So we get up this morning, Mike calls, and we’re going to go shooting at the range. Get dressed. Meet Mike. Get to the range. Wait in line. And just before we get to sign up for a port, my mom calls. And asks me if I’m on my way over there yet. "No? Why?" Oh Right. We’ve got tickets to go see West Side Story. Don’t you remember? We got the tickets for your birthday. BY THE WAY. The show starts in a half hour.

Fuck. So I tell the boys, we leave (me feeling like an idiot the entire time) We drive back to the park and ride, get into Sam’s truck, we drive all the way back home so I could change (I’m wearing a million layers of flannel) and Sam drives me down to the theater, where I walk in the door, meet my mom, and find our seats two seconds before the show starts.

The show itself was really good. My only complaint: It was definitely not a ‘feel good’ show. So I’m feeling under the weather, its That Time, I’ve been feeling shitty because I can’t get my plans straight. I made Mike drive all the way out to where we were just to have me cancel. I made Sam drive all the way out to meet up with Mike, home again, and down to the theater. My mom was mad at me during most of the show because I forgot about our plans. I was mad at my mom because she can’t sit and watch a show for two hours without needing to have a snack. The Palace doesn’t allow food into the seating area. She brought snacks in anyway. And not ‘quiet’ snacks either. More like "Go up to the cockpit. Tell them its your birthday." And then the show ends and I want to cry.

And to boot: When I talked to her on the phone when I was on my way to the theater, I told her Sam was driving me and she said, "Not a problem, I can take you home after the show." The show lets out, and she tells me that she needs to go to work and can’t take me home. But you can come down to the restaurant with me

. Sam can pick you up there. Why would I have Sam drive halfway across town to pick me up (when he shouldn’t be picking my butt up at all, mind you) when he can drive a few streets down to the theater and pick me up? (In all actuality, I could probably walk home from the theater. Only I wouldn’t, because I would have to walk through quite a few sketchy areas of town to get home.)

Icing on the cake: After Sam picks me up (He was out and about when I called and he was about to drive past where I was on his way home, so it was pretty convenient) and we get home, I come down the stairs on the walkway and roll my ankle. Wearing my new 4 inch heels.

They’re really cute, and I’ve worn them out three times since I got them two weeks ago. But heels + uneven patio = Failure. Every time.

Today has been a trainwreck. I would say ‘words cannot describe,’ but clearly, I have found the words.

I’ve pretty much wanted to go back to bed since I got out of it this morning. I hate my inability to keep my plans straight in my head. Why do I have be so freaking social? I never used to have this problem. Why am I such a dumb shit when it comes to writing things down when I know I won’t remember them? My day would have been infinitely better if I just remembered what I said I was going to be doing in the first place. Why am I such a dumbass? Ugh.

At least it is almost time to go back to bed. I’m having some Sleepy Time tea with Sam and then we’re hitting the pillows. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I’m going to work, and then going to the gym with Jess. Looking forward to Thursday and Friday. Thursday is Knit Night (did I remember that correctly? Thursday?) and Friday I have an appointment with Tine for a massage.

Is it Thursday yet?

ALW