So, yesterday morning I drove into town with no greater concern than being taken to a mental facility if for some reason pulled over. As I climbed in the car, Frank pointed out, “You look insane.” I was wearing a full set of fuzzy zebra striped pajamas, fringed moccasins, and a skull scarf. My hair was sticking up in all directions like I was a lost member of the Doodlebops. I thought of how I would explain my appearance to the arresting officer, “You see, sir. I live on a boat and we don’t have any running water right now. The otters are responsible. I’m driving into town for a bath. Oh…and, my hair. One of my cats likes to lick my head when he’s nervous. He groomed me all night. Kind of punk rock though isn’t it?”
I did not get arrested, but that is about the only thing that hasn’t happened to me over the last week or so.
The Friday after Christmas, after bragging that I never get sick, I came down with a horrible case of the flu. I have coughed so hard that I have pissed myself on at least one occasion every day since. It has been a miserable reminder to get the shot next year and to do more kegals.
On New Year’ Eve, we attended a wedding at Talon Winery and…drum roll, please…it was dry. Yes, you read that right. We went to a wedding at a vineyard on the biggest drinking night of the year where they didn’t serve alcohol. Luckily, I knew this going in or when the twelve year old at “the bar” offered “coffee, water, or unsweetened tea,” I would have passed out cold. The only thing stranger than the lack of libations was that, just prior to us going, someone stole all of Frank’s trousers from his closet and replaced them with pants of a smaller size. Forty five minutes before the ceremony, he was tearing through Walmart, the only place opened, to find a pair of britches that would fit. In the end, the wedding was gorgeous and so was Frank.
I had my last day of work on Tuesday. They gave a gallon of Maker’s Mark, a pound of fancy coffee, and a mug. I suppose the mug was for the coffee which was for the hangover which was from the booze. I’m just drinking the whiskey from the mug and saving the coffee for guests.
We finally did it and actually moved all of our possessions including dogs, cats, and my multitude of shoes (though I downsized by 50 or so pairs) onto the boats where we will live for a year. I plan on writing about the experience, so don’t expect to hear about it here. I want to give you a reason to buy the book. But, don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll have plenty else to blog about.
And lastly, apparently now I’m a racist…at least according to Molly VanZant in her Letter to the Editor, which you can read HERE. I am stunned that the Herald-Leader (who owns skirt!) would repay my loyalty with lies in the form of publishing this scathing attack on my character less than one week after I departed. Especially since they know that I am passionate about representing diversity and empowering women of all races and have done so consistently both as editor and in all areas of my work . I am torn between writing my own Letter to the Editor defending myself or saying “Fuck them. I will not do one more thing to encourage anyone to read that skinny rag that masquerades as a newspaper.” I’ll be thinking on it, praying about it, and talking to an attorney.
On a happy note, I think I cried my flu away. I feel better than I have in years. And, now after surviving my most vicious public attack to date, I am ready to be bolder and bawdier that ever. If people thought I was offensive before, now they better bar the damn door!
the bourbonistA, Promoting Debauchery and stamping out political-correctness one blog at a time.