I Know a Drunk

I know an old drunk.

And I don't use "drunk" in a negative way.

She's delightful, Well...ish.

Maybe entertaining is a better word.

Let's just say I like her. I really, really do.

In fact, I'd go so far as to say, I am quite fond of her most of the time. She makes me laugh and needs to talk. These are two things I can appreciate.

She's not homeless or shameless, gross or slightly insane. She's normal. Has a job and is active in the community. A grandmother. A church go-er. A homeowner. A very accomplished drunk.

She lives to drink.

Which, who is anyone to say that that's the worst thing in the world. If she's not harming anyone, what's the big beef?

So she's likes a few vodkas and a bottle of wine at night. It's not like the state of our union is at risk. Now and then she passes out and wakes to find that she's cut her own hair....that's not a crime.

She doesn't drink and drive. Or even walk recklessly for that matter. She simply goes home, puts on her sweats and knocks few back. And by few I'd say 10.

She's been doing so for bout 20 years. Give or take.

What's interesting to me is that I never knew her before. So I keep wondering....was "Louise" always this way ---and by "this way" I guess you just have to meet her..... it's hard to explain.... or has the drinking affected her personality? Her memory? Her facial expressions? Her mood swings! Her voice level...which can escalate when you're not really expecting it.....

Was she always a bit bitter and angry? Was she forever disgusted with her husband, irritated with her neighbors, insulted by her boss?

I'm sure not. She must have had beautiful moments and proud graduations, big laughs and sentimental holidays.

I know life has become a disappointment for her. I think it's a disappointment more often than it isn't.

But what came first? I'm so interested.

Was it the restlessness and dissatisfaction? The anger from love lost and promises broken?

Or ...... Did the dirty martinis result in a broken heart and cold marriage?

Probably some of both?

I just wonder now and then....does she recognize who she sees in the mirror? Does she even look?

Is her life a broken record of getting up in the morning because she has to, going to work because it's expected, and zooming home for the only light in her day.....OOOOhhhh that glorious Limoncella?

I guess it doesn't really matter.

Louise is Louise is Louise. She functioned fine before she met me and her life is hers. Not mine to figure out or worry over....

I'm just curious I guess because.......

Because.

I know a drunk.

And I like her.

Writing with Mark Wahlborg

The new goal is to write at least 15 m inutes a day.

If one is trying to get in the habit or writing and opening up the windows of creativity, s/he is supposed to just write. Write whatever. Write gibble gobble. Just write...For 10 or 15 minutes.

I know this is a fact because Dr. Smith told me this in College and now he is a college president. So I mean, come on, he knows what he's talking about.

Good old Dr. Smith would not lead me astray.

I think he might now. But he certainly would not have then. He liked me then. I dont' think he likes me now but that's a whole nother deal and not for my public's ears....And by my public, I, of course, mean my sister, and 2 friends.

I really liked that class...Ginger and Roxanne were in it with me and I remember just writing, writing, writing, and I would just DIE with pride everytime something of mine got read aloud.
ESP if I was wearing a cute outfit that day.

It's funny how a little thing like getting an essay read in front of the class just means the whole world to you ..... even when your 21. I remember thinking...control yourself....don't smile so big....you look like a swooning idiot. Inside my heart was just bursting...BURSTING.

I litereally felt like I had won the Showcase Showdown or at least a date with Ralph Macchio.

Actually, in college, who would it have been a date with? Andrew Shue? I can't really even remember.

Marky Mark? That was the same year the Boogie Nights came out.....And man, was that movie a shock.

HOLY Mark Wahlberg and Roller Girl and just everything.

I was like...WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! And why am I watching it with everyone I know on a Friday afternoon. Let's please just all go to Gradys.

Side note, in my adult life, I actually met Mark when he was dating my friend Robin (Vance's ex) in LA...he was working on that movie about sailing or boating or something and had to get really skinny and would never eat and just smoked all the time and drank tons of water .... she eventually broke up with him because he is (gasp!) not a one-woman kind of guy. I personally think she should have stuck it out. But whatev.


Anyway, that's the new goal....15 minutes a day. AND it's supposed to be uninterrupted. But whatev. I'm going to do what I can do.

Until tomorrow..... At which time I will write about nothing again for 15 glorious minutes!

Looking forward to it.

The Lottery--Uncovered.

I want to do something that I love.

Everyday.

For a living.

Do you know what I mean?

There ARE people out there that do that .... or claim to...


Not sure if they chose a job and decided to love it, or went after their heart's desire from an early age or what? Sometimes I'm sure people just "fall into" a fabulous life that they never dreamt of.

There are actors and circus performers, sales people and politicians, restraunteurs, golfers and sailors that say, "Yes! Without a doubt.....I am living my dream. There is nothing else I would rather do. No one else I'd rather be."


I know. I saw it on Oprah.


But "doing what you love" is really not so easy.


Not that anyone said it was.....


I guess when they told me in college, "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life," I just thought at some point I would know what to do and I'd be rich and famous and BE that person on Oprah saying....well, you know....you've just got to follow your dreams and go for it...

Or some such blah blah blah.


Well here's the problem ladies and gents:


First off, you have to FIND something that you love. That in itself can take who knows how long!?


And, quite frankly, the things that "I love" are generally not things that one can make any decent money doing ..... And more probably, no money at all.

So there's that obstacle.

Secondly, you really have to put in time to build up this business or passion or column or brand or whatever..... If I had been smart, I would have started building that at age 9. And now I'id be on QVC with Suzanne Sommers.

But I digress.

As it stands now, I am 34, (which is allegedly the new 24, but feels less and less like it) and haven't built up my empire or wrote books or franchised my salsa or become a Senator or launched some random brand that happened to find just the niche that was needed.


And most likely, neither have you.


Swallow that pill for a while and you'll come to this conclusion (maybe).

It's probably too late to do what you love.

Which means......

You're stuck in this crap job-life-career-town--whatev -- just living everyday, going to your power lunches, and running your miles, demanding spreadsheets and getting excited over pinstripes, kissing ass and having yours kissed.

Becoming that person that is ....well ...... lame.

But, that's life for most people.

If they're lucky.

If they're not, they are worried about how to feed their kids and if they'll lose their job and when spaghetti-o's go on sale.

So...... I guess we now understand why the lottery is so popular.

It's the dream people.

The dream of doing what you love.

Which, just might turn out to be, nothing.

Do You Ever Just Kind of Hate Everyone?

Not REALLY hate-hate, but just enough so that you don't want to hear what anyone has to say?

Maybe it's that I'm around people all day and am supposed to be a "people person" and inspire and motivate and quack quack quack?

So I act excited and ask questions and dig up some interest, DAY IN AND DAY OUT...Please, oh please, TELL ME MORE!!! And then, every now and then, I just cannot do it ANYMORE.

I DONT CARE. I just don't.
And I can't....not that moment...or that day.


Please do not drone on and on.

All I am thinking about is warm cherry crisp. Warmed up. Very warm with drizzle of some sort and a crunchy something.

Warmed up.

I mean it.

And ice cream...vanilla....obviously. Cold and slightly melty.

I guess the good news is it doesn't last long. The mood....or hate...or whatever. And truth be told, if you popped your head in my office you'd probably have no idea that I hated you. And the cardigan you popped in on.

So who's the wiser?

The moral of the story is that every now and then everyone is a hater.

Even perfect, delightful me.

Holiday Hoodlums

You know who you are.....

Yes you do.....


OOOooooh Caramel Corn. And fancy jello. Blueberry pie AND the ala mode.

Why must you taunt me so?

Well ... you AND your evil cousin homemade cookies and that she-devil left-overs.

Mean mean mean!!

Always calling my name....forever whispering in my hungry ear...Hey...check me out...see what I'm up to....mmmmm.....crunchy and soft and sweet and savory.....ALL TOGETHER!

We're a tornado of tantalizing delights!

Just a morsel.
A nugget.
A snacky of sorts.

Oh sure....AT FIRST!

Then it's no holds bar. I'm eating you until my jeans don't fit.

That will show you.

HA!

Who's the winner now?


Dear Jenny Craig......

Svelt Vs Smelt.....What is smelt?!

It's been a bit of a slow day. Boring. Uninspiring. Cold.

LAAAAAME.

So how do you suppose I decided to cheer the old Steph-a-roo up?!

That's right....by reading my own blogs.

Newflash: I'm very into me.

Here's what I found.....I am much more partial to my older writings....Circa September 2008 .... than the more recent musings.

They were funny! At least to me. But then I know me, so I have a bit of an inside scoop on that.

Obvo.

I'm thinking I must have been exercising or on diet pills or taking naps or something in September!?

I wonder if my pants still fit back then?

I bet they did. That DEFINITELY plays a big role in my fun and funniness capabilites.

* Side note, you're are also able to breethe much easier when your pants arent' cutting into major organs.


I've always been that way. About the weight vs happiness dealy.

Having pin-pointed that about myself ......

I am on a big fantastic high-protein diet that my 104 lb hair dresser gave me. WHO, by the way, lost 10lbs in 2 weeks (ALLEGEDLY) and guess who hasn't lost ONE GOD FORSAKEN POUND in 4 brutal days?!

I'm quite irritated. And fat.

Nonetheless!

I'm calling up that frosted tipped twit and giving her the what-for...I bet you she has been plotting against me since I forgot her tip back in May.

Well I'll tell you a little secret, she made my roots orange....So sue me if I acted like I forgot a tip.

BIG WHUP. I HAD ORANGE ROOTS.! You try feeling good about yourself with Halloween hair.

It is time to now pose a tremendously deep and life-altering questions that might have you questioning your faith:

Which is worse? Jiggly thighs with a tremendous high-light? Or wearing a size 2 with poorly processed hair?

Please send your responses with a $20 bill to the Rockford Chamber of Commerce Attn: Stephanie Wasemiller.

I will tally up the votes and report the verdict during next week's blog. You may vote as often as you like. In fact, multiple voting is encouraged. BIG TIME.

Droppy

There is one thing in life that seriously gets my goat.

Drives me nuts-o.

Makes me want to poke someone's eyes out. For CEREAL.

Here it is:

I HATE it when someone is droppy. It just makes me bezerk! I mean koo koo in la cabeza. Honestly, it makes me want to SCRIBBLE swear words in dark colors.

Don't try to squeeze in a bunch of droppy suedo important info when I ask you a completely unrelated question.

Such as:

"Girl, where did you get those HOT Shoes?!"

Instead of replying with, "Hon please! Nordys"

Someone answers with:

"Hon please! You know the hubby got that phat promotion and we're makine like $650,000 a year now, so I got them in every color at Nordys."

BEGAAAA?!

There is no reason for that nonsense. NONE.

Just drives me bonkers.

Clearly. Because I haven't blogged in like a decade and choose to ramble on about this today.

But I cannot let it fester.

That would just be destruction to my soul. And let's be honest, I do not need a festering soul. Or a marinating one. Or fizzling. A soul dipped in dulche de leche? NOW we're talking!

BUT I digress....


I don't mind people being successful etc. In fact, I prefer it...esp in my friends. It's not like I'm looking for a bunch of losers...And if you're successful your life is just going to reflect that, etc.

No duh.

I get it.

But this bragginess and acting like some info is just "slipping out"?

Do not insult me. I was on to you about 15 years ago.

Seriously, nothing says GAG like a droppy-dropperson.

At least in my world.

Now you know.