Web MD here I come.

I'm about to say something that is going to make you want to punch me in the face. But at the risk of death threats and bitch slaps, here goes:

I need a break from all these "vacations".

I know. Poooor me, having all this free time to go to an amusement park, trips out of state, trips within the state, camping this weekend, and Schlitterbahn in three weeks. Boo fucking hoo, right? But seriously, we all know vacations take a lot of work and planning and stressful hours online scouring the net for the best ticket prices, hotel prices, rental car prices, (I'm a ocd bargain shopper, so even though sites like expedia.com and travelocity.com say they'll book you a "package" deal, I just dont trust them), buying tickets, booking campsites, and going absolutely fucking NUTS. Then comes the packing. The packing of clothes (and the loads of laundry that goes with it cause I always have about 5 loads constantly in the hamper because I'm lazy I'm going on vacation so much I don't have time to do chores!), tents, food, all the f'ing stuff that goes with having a three year old, books, first aid supplies, toiletries for three people (now four), and the lists. Lists of things not to forget. Lists of places to go, places to see, things to do.

Hmm. Reading all of this, I think I might have a slight problem. But can you really be TOO prepared? The "what-if's" kill me sometimes. What if we decide to go to a fancy restaurant? Gotta pack the cute dress and shoes. What if we decide to go water skiing? Need to bring the print out with directions to the closest hospital. What if we decide to go hiking and get bit by a rattlesnake? We need that book that tells you how to survive things. Shit. What is that book called? Need to buy that book (Mental note: add to the list of things to buy before the trip.) You see? ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.

This obsessive being preparedness probably falls under some sort of disorder, but since I've spent all my mental health money of vacations, I'll stick to wine and hope for the best.

Weekday drinking

Ohmygod, I am so hungover today. Got a little carried away with the wine last night, and I'm totally paying for it. I stumbled into bed at an obscene hour, and woke this morning to an inbox full of replies to drunk emails I sent to my friends.

Oh yeah. Its like drunk texting, but only more 90's.

I'm a loving kind of drunk. I will tell you how awesome you are, why your shoes are so awesome and how much I loooooooooove you. Probably repeatedly. I'm also the "Your New BFF" kind of drunk, which I admit, is totally annoying when it happens to me, but I sometimes revert back into that mode, especially if I dont know anyone at the event/bar/club/casino/strip club/etc. I think it goes back to highschool somehow, but I'm too hungover to analyze myself, damn. So, suffice to say most of my emails were all like this, "I LOVE YOUUUU, I wi ll alwsays kloooooooooooove you, you are MY HERO AND you're my BFF4EVA porrrr vidaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!11"
Kind of like Whitney Houston plus a dash of Bette Midlder with a dab of Selena thrown in.

You know you want one of my drunk emails.

I need a cheeseburger.