Rum Makes You Dumb

Yeah, man. Nothing like taking the wholesome blended juice you bought for your child and spiking it harder than the Nike womens' beach volleyball team. I need a drink.

Sorry for the psychotic mood I have been in for the last few days. I am in the process of snapping out of it. I think I need some Audrey time. Must go down to Sacto sometime after midterms and hook that Amazon Goddess up to a steady source of Captain Morgan until we get the girlie giggles. Just not enough for me to get melancholy like last time. *note to self: do NOT drink a whole bottle of champagne, Stacie*

I need to exorcise the demons of stress out of my noggin. All work and no play makes Stacie a dull hedonist. I am working so hard and I really am almost halfway through the semester, it ends mid December and I get 3-4 weeks off of school for winter break.

By December a few things will happen.

• I will have a birthday and can kiss my thirties goodbye and perhaps good riddance. Still hemming and hawing over party plans. I need to turn over the planning to a friend with some energy, because I lack verve for it. I keep having this vague idea that I want to start with fondue and cocktails at the chocolate bar and then find a spot to dance to some '80's music like the retro junkie that I am. If I can swing getting in the middle of another 2-man sandwich on the dance floor like last time, then I will call the evening a success. *fans self*
  
• We *might* know what the heck is going to happen with Little A's legal issues. Enough to plan for the future? Say it isn't so! We really want to take her to Disneyland. That kid is princess-obsessed!
  
• I can resolve right now to make no resolutions for next year, as per my usual custom. Check one thing off the list for 2009!
  

But for right this second now, it is about having a drink. I need a little umbrella for this. I think that the deeper I get into this glass, the less sense this post will make. And it will STILL be more pleasant and less cringe-inducing for my friends and family to read than the last few things I have had to say in this space.

Pretty sad that I only made it, what, 7 weeks into the semester or something before getting all twitchy? I am just built so much more for Bacchanalia than for endless work. Believe it or not, I am one of the more level headed ones in my class. I am not bursting into tears over my tests, YET!!! All that exercise and clean living must be good for something. I'm proud of myself, but I am also tired as fuck-all.

Still, I would rather be lounging and drinking inky Syrah and having my toes sucked and staring up at starry skies and composing impromptu poetry, and giggling, and perhaps sighing, and stroking skin with skin, and making time disintegrate.

Soon, my lovelies. Soon I will take off this lab coat and put on the thing with the plunging neckline and dare you not to stare. Soon I will lubricate my limbs with upturned martini glasses and show you why I am High Priestess of the "Whooo!" people.

Yeah. Like that.