This Morno. I ate a bagel in case I get a hang-over later.
Lush Signs. . .
Drinking alone. Well, technically, I wasn’t alone. My teen was drinking alongside me. I was drinking the damaged frozen strawberry daiquiri while he indulged in the virgin ones.
Drunk Facebooking. “I just drank a full pitcher of frozen daiquiris. YAY me!”
Defensiveness: I was joking. I didn’t really drink a full pitcher of frozen daiquiris, the pitcher had a thimble full of rum in it. A THIMBLE FULL.
Excuses: It was my Ninja blender’s fault. We had strawberries.
Denial: Everyone knows I do not drink, it was just one time.
Lusting: Truth. While watching tv, I did see a commercial for a Vitamix blender that made my heart go pitter patter. But I don’t think I’m ready for that type of relationship. My Ninja is blender enough for me.
Blackout: What the hell are you talking about?
This morning when I signed into Facebook a private message greeted me. The message went something like this: I understand your need to drink but perhaps it would be better not to post on Facebook while drinking.
Huh? What? Who the hell are you? Oh, a friend of a friend that asked me to friend you. What the heck! I raced to my Facebook page. Nothing. Ok. One comment about drinking a pitcher of daiquiris, but surely that doesn’t make me a daiquiri lush does it? DOES IT!
At first I was ticked off. A quasi friend on my intimate, personal Facebook page was privately commenting and advising me on my non drinking habit. Really. Note to self, block friend.
And then I started to laugh with gay abandon. This was a new first for me. Look Mom, I’m a Lush!
Peeps, get a new designated driver. Cheers!
Odd Loves Company,