Day 33: I'm so fucking LAME!!

Sobriety is ruining my life.

My blog posts are getting boring. I'm getting boring.

Ugghhh. I so need to drink.

I had the day off from work. Now, if I was drinking I would have gone out last night, got tanked and woke up this morning around 11am. Last night I stayed up watching LMN till 3am. I woke up at 9am and started doing laundry and then

went and ran errands. I came home and watched a Gay-cia flick (Here On Earth - terrible Gay-cia) ate a salad then went back out to finish my errands.

I spent my evening watching ABC's Thursday night line up. (Aside - Owen Hunt on Grey's is fucking hot! and In the Motherhood is prit-tey funny)

So back to the many reason as to why I am lame. I bring nothing to the table sober. I'm not funny or sarcastic. I'm terribly nice which as most of you know isn't really my thing. Sobriety makes me a little calm and let's be real . . .I'm not particularly calm.

Fuck my life!!!!!!!!!! I have 17 days. All I want is a crisp glass of Chardonnay.

So tomorrow I am taking Ying out for her birthday. Maybe I can be social and pick up a guy . . . . . I seriously need to put my whore master hat to work.

Happy Birthday Ying!!!

So I Google searched images "chugging a bottle" . Displayed here are all of the images that came up in the search. WE SALUTE YOU!

Day 32

Today was the last day of pitching . . . for a little bit anyway.  I will take the next two days off to get my life back in order. 

So Friday I am going to "gay night" at g-bar. "Gay night" is a frequent outing where my co-workers go to our favorite gay bar and drink frozen Apple Martini's. Of course I will not be partaking in the drinking the martini's. My boss is urging me to go so that I can hit on the hot straight bartender. Is it weird that I am going to a gay bar to hit on straight guy? If you know me, this is very apropos.

I miss alcohol. I think the lack of alcohol is making me soft.

Also, I seriously need to have sex. My roommate offered up his underage friend Santos.  Santos is not his real name but I never bothered to commit his actual name to memory after our initial interlude. 

On a separate note: it's nice to see some of my friends coming around. For the first few weeks I felt like a leper. Only my pregnant friends wanted to talk to me.  All the drinkers . . . . crickets

Day 31

I woke up today with some bad PMS. I'm a little frustrated because I usually don't get my period until Thursday or Friday so at this point its two days early . . . and that is some bullshit. I realize that this is probably happening because usually, when I am drinking, I don't take my birth control correctly leading to overlap in hormone packs. Thus shorter periods. Insight: I need to start drinking again. 

So my company has had sort of a march madness pitch season and I have been working long hours with one of the partners that is from the UK. She is has a classy British accent. I often pick up accents very quickly.  But lately I find that after spending so much time with her that the voice in my head has developed a British accent which coincidentally lead to less cursing.  Saying "fuck" in my head with a British accent just didn't seem proper. Of course, this all clearly doesn't seem normal. Insight: I'm overworked to the point of delirium and really need a drink to pull myself out of this. 

Day 30 - Why I am better than you!!!!!!

My blog is called 50 Days Sober, Why I am better than Jesus. I'm better than Jesus because he only suffered for 40days and I'm suffering for 10 more than that!

Now onto why I am better than you. In short, I'm usually not but today is the exception.

So after playing three soccer matches last night I woke up very stiff and not feeling so well this morning. I took a hot shower, then warmed my legs up with a heating pad and headed into the office. The first thing I heard when I arrived at work was "You look gorgeous today!"

Now who said this to me you might ask? . . . an extremely hot, sexy, smart lesbian, slash colleague and partner in crime, Jamie. If I were to create an avatar of what I wanted to look like and who I'd want to be, she would be exactly like Jamie. And Jamie is so pretty that her beauty rivals that of Angelina Jolie (I shit you not).

Of course this story might have gone differently had I been off the wagon. It probably would have involved pillow fights, hair pulling, a white corvette, Warrant and girls making out. Obviously way better than how it actually went down.

P.S. my key to looking gorgeous I think has to do with the fact that I started brushing my hair again.

So on day 30 of my sobriety it seems that things are looking up. Now if I could only find the male equivalent of Jamie my life would be perfect.

Jamie has also taken a similar sobriety journey except she hit the 100 day mark . . .which is why she is better than all of us.

Days 28 and 29

Day 28

It is another weekend in the world of sobriety. The weekends are always the toughest. This weekend was shaping up to be even tougher since I was banished, by my boss, from doing any work related things. So I was pretty much being left to my own devices.

I painted round 2 of Baby Jackson's Nursery Jungle. This took me a good part of the day which was great because it kept me out of trouble.

On my way home from baby Jackson's I stopped to get some gas and a snack at the Quick Check. I was waiting in line behind a group of guys who had clearly been pre-gaming. I could smell the luscious scent of Natty Ice emanating from their breathe. I scooted closer to take in the aroma of barley and hops. I was about two seconds from spontaneously making out with one of them just to taste the remnant flavor of cheap skank beer . . . . I'm not sure I'm going to make it another 22days.

Day 29

This is the first day in weeks where I have a block of 8 hours that is not planned. So I decide to spend the morning in bed watching VH1. I caught up on Rock of Love, Tough Love and For the Love of Ray Jay. I'm not sure I dig For the Love of Ray J. I had to change the channel twice out of embarrassment, the train wreck was so bad I had to look away.

I've decided that I need to be more social while I am sober. I seriously need to find some guy to make out with because it is unlikely that my roommate will surrender the DVR remote batteries for me to re-insert in to my vibrator.

I'm not very good at sober flirting. But I figured I'd make an attempt over the next couple of weeks. My opportunity came sooner than expected. The ref for my indoor soccer game was quite cute and flirty. I did some minimal sober, sweaty girl flirty. It went O.K. I figure I'll try sober but not sweaty girl flirting in the the near future.

P.S. My indoor soccer team went undefeated this season!

So recently I was having a conversation with my Uncle Willy. One thing that I realize lately with adult figures in my life is that I'm old enough to realize that there really are no adults. Once you hit 25 shit stays the same you just go gray, bald and possibly get fat. But for the most part you'll be dealing with the same stuff now (at 27) that you will be dealing with when your 45 but I digress . . . . . .

So my uncle was telling me that he is going to dust off his "whore master" hat. I, needless to say, was very entertained by this phrase coming out of my uncle's mouth. He informed me that "whore master" was a title given to him as a young gent. Of course shortly after he was bestowed that honorable title he got married. So the "whore master" hat went in the closet. Now, impending a possible divorce he decided it was time to bring it out. I kindly asked if he could swap the "whore master" hat for his Officer Cream Puff mustache. He said, "No!"

Let me back up here a bit, so my little brother is a bit of a "dawg". He is a charmer with the ladies and has no problem finding a different one for every day of the week. Now, of course I make fun of him for this. But then he kindly reminds me that I'm also a carrier of what he calls the "lope dawg gene". This gene comes from my father (note: see previous post about crackhead dating) who seems to always have a lady or multiple ladies.

While I was talking to my Uncle Willy I realized that we have "dawg" genes on both sides of our family. So, alas, my need to taste all of the flavors in the ice cream cooler is genetic, therefore I can't be held accountable for my actions. However, this by no means implies that I am a cheater or date more than one guy at a time. It just implies that I probably will sleep with you but that does not necessarily imply I want to ever talk to you again. I mean that in the kindest way possible.

Day 27: Alistair is a CUNT!

Why is Alistair a cunt? I guess my story of Pisserfest was incorrect. Of course I was only told this story while drunk by drunkards, so I apologize for any historical inaccuracy.  For the real story see the poor grammar and proper grammar versions in the comments section of Day 26.

Ugly Betty Watchers - I kind of love her new boyfriend Matt!

So my sister and I were talking on the phone today. We were discussing our status as single women and I brought up the fact that we can't get it together yet my father seems to always have a girl friend.

Let me tell you a little bit about my father. He is 49 years old, he has disfigured arm, and a scar going down the back of his head (both from some guy who came after him with a machete), he is balding which is moot since he has to shave his head because his scar is so bad that he can't grow hair on his head anymore. My father has track marks on both arms and bad teeth from drug use. The icing on my father's cake is that he is co-infected with Hep C and HIV. Now, one would think that with all of this working against him that it would be difficult for him to find a significant other . . .well I guess my father is charming and may have once been good looking which trumps some women's need to date a guy with good teeth and no risk of contracting an STD, but what do I know.

Yet for as long as I can remember my dad has always had a girlfriend. And not like some chick to sleep around with.  Like a real girlfriend, committed (well as committed as crackheads can be) and living together  . . . .the whole-nine yards.  Yet I can not manage to conjure a relationship that lasts longer than a rotation of Next Top Model. Now some of his girlfriends were not exactly runners up for Miss New England but most aren't that bad (for crackheads anyway). One would ask what this has to do with sobriety. Well I'm not really sure but it might have something to do my lack of sobriety up-to-this point.

p.s. Sometimes Betty pisses me off!

Day 26: Over the hump!!!!!

So today is the first day of the rest of my 50 days sober. 

I had a pretty mundane day today. I woke up weighed myself and wished I hadn't.  So I answered my scale with 50 minuets of cardio at the gym.

I realized on the train today that there has been an influx of hot guys to Jersey City. Sweet!

So being that I got nothing I am going to high light Pisserfest.

Pisserfest

What is Pisserfest you ask? Well one of our buddies at Penn State got so drunk during homecoming '00 that he pissed in his closet.  Yep. . . . this is how it went.  That particular homecoming was awesome! Tens of kegs were kicked, shots were taken and our buddy went back to his dorm and passed out.  He woke up in the middle of the night and made his way to the bathroom to take a leak.  He discovered the next morning that the bathroom he thought he took a leak in was actually his closet. 

To commemorate this drunken act and a great weekend of partying, Pisserfest was born. The goal of Pisserfest is to kill as many kegs as possible.  I think the most we ever killed over a Pisserfest weekend were 14 kegs. Yes, One Four!  We were so awesome then.