go big or go home

first transgression: slumber party in innsbrook.

you didn't actually think I'd go all that way and not fall off?

lesson learned: your drink is not always the drink you wanted. I have returned home more parched that before. turns out, just having a bottle wasn't that great without all the other things I desired around me. the taste was familiar, but the buzz just wasn't the same. I'm going to be thinking about that this week. what was it that I was thirsty for?

thirsty on day two

I was in a wine bar last night and I did not have a drink. A WINE BAR. how about that?

turns out wine bars are nothing. true first test is one full day of stay-at-home-momming. it is 5:00 somewhere, and here, now, and I am surrounded by bottles screaming "drink me." for no other reason than they can put my head at ease. also melt the knots in my shoulders and tuck my aching legs into soft sheets.

what can replace this?

karatefairy hops in the wagon

this is how it is going to begin. with a journey and a test.

everybody gives up something for lent. everybody cheats, stumbles, falls, tries again, skips on friday, counts the days, quits, tries again. I just want to record how it goes. I'm going to try to get on the wagon, dry up, sober up, clear my head, clear my body, and see how it feels to teetotal. for 40 days. well, 40 days plus sundays. I'm no catholic--I just thought I'd give it a try.

so far, so good. I am beginning not utterly confident, but sober, at least. there is a half-drunk bottle of shiraz on the counter. it's funny, I could go either way. I could pour it straight down the drain or I could gobble it down, right now, at 11:08 am. I think I'll just let it sit for a bit.

39 days, 13 hours to go.