Last Drunk Post of the Year

This is a race against time and the Bat Mitzvah wine buzz I’ve got going. And my battery.

2016 can go fuck itself. Tabby and My Parasitic Twin and I were individually considering who the final casualty of 2016 would be. I’m not going to name my predictions because that’s just fucked up but NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS WOULD I HAVE IMAGINED THAT IT WOULD HIT SO CLOSE TO HOME.screen-shot-2016-12-31-at-9-04-28-pmscreen-shot-2016-12-31-at-9-04-51-pm

Rest In Peace Radish. And my apologies to Michael J. Fox, he deserves to live happily without Parkinson’s Disease.


I don’t know what happened to him. The other afternoon I noticed that he had his head tucked into his wing in the middle of the day so I took him inside and then he was dead by the next morning.

Go to this post to hear him crowing in the middle of the night. Just scroll down to the pitch dark video.

You know, like most things in my life that I cherish, he irritated the fuck out me but I was never bored of him. In fact, I liked him more because he was so annoying.

The neighborhood seems so quiet without him. I even saw if there were any Silkie roosters on Craigslist, free to a good home, natch.

Aw damn, I just tried looking it up so I could show you the crazy picture of the Silkie rooster available. I’m 99% sure it was dyed blue. Sadly, he is no longer available. And Tabby forbade me from getting a rooster.


It’s true. Roosters condone rape culture.

I’m riding a pretty sweet Pinot Grigiot buzz I caught at my neighbor’s daughter’s Bat Mitzvah. It was a lovely event in a historic building with AMAZING FOOD and a deejay who was feelin’ me.  Big time.

He was playing music that made me feel like I was 13, but in a really good way and not in the way that makes me angry at dance parties. MPT’s husband will know exactly what I’m talking about.

Anyway, between bites of hibiscus infused pear salad with a creamy sherry dressing and pomegranate poached salmon, I was pretty much singing along to all the Janet Jackson, Howard Johnson, Little River Band and (yes) Michael Jackson songs.

Then this weird thing happened. There was a woman with a baby at the next table and we were talking about the dope music and she said that she isn’t feeling it as much as she normally would and I was like, “Well, I’ve had a lot of wine,” and she was all, “I don’t drink as much as I used to,” and I assuming that the baby that she was holding was her baby was like, “Well, mine are older, just give it time,” and she thought I was telling her that she would eventually have kids because she thought that I was saying that it wasn’t too late for her to have kids.

That would be a total asshole thing to say so I was like, “I WOULD NEVER! I  would never tell anyone that they should or should not have kids!”

Whew. That was almost another person in this world who thinks I’m an asshole.

Seriously, I don’t know why my neighbor (HI MICHELLE!) invites me to stuff. I’m grateful because I really, really, really like her and her family, I just feel like I must be on the fringe of what she considers acceptable behavior. I always hope that their respectability will rub off on me.

Anyway, it was a really fun Bat Mitzvah was the perfect thing for me to do on NYE and still be able to be in bed and/or drunk posting by 9:00. I had to end 2016 on a slightly less depressing note than the last (unpublished) blog in my queue.



So yeah, 2016 can go fuck itself but I don’t actually think that 2017 will be better. How could it be? At least in 2016 we had Obama as POTUS and that fucking maniac. I can’t even say his name. I’m going to refer to him as TFA (That Fucking Asshole) from now on.

The only thing 2017 can’t do to us is that it can’t kill David Bowie, Prince, Carrie Fisher, Maurice White, George Michael, and Alan Rickman again. For an exhaustive list of awesome people who died in 2016 go here.

I had more shit to talk about but now I can’t remember. The last couple weeks have been a blur of doing shit with my kids like going snowboarding and to art exhibits and tutoring and stuff. I even forced Scratchy to watch Stop Making Sense with me.


Such a dope movie

It’s a rollercoaster, I tell you. Like with everything else, my kids are never in sync. Itchy could be having the worst, whiniest day on the slopes while Scratchy is killing it. Then the next day they switch. Can’t we all just have fun at the same time?

Then I signed up for Track Your Happiness because of a Ted Talk I heard about happiness research and I realized that I was completely miserable playing the most crushingly dull game ever but even so, I wouldn’t teleport myself into the future if I could.

I also made a bunch of dog diapers and saw My Asian Daughter. I saw that she was in in town from NYC.


And like a good Asian daughter she snapped on over to my place. I love her, she gets that Asian disowning brain damage and I can make light of it with her. But she understands how deeply scarring it it.

Anyway, she came over and I made a bunch more doggy outfits/diapers for Scheissehund.

Here’s MAD.

I listened to Love and Radio today while sewing. It is hands down one of the most interesting things I’ve ever heard/read. All of their episodes are crazy but this one just broke my fucking heart.

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It was the most unflinching look at a family whose eldest son jumped out a window during a nervous breakdown, sustained severe brain damage, lived at home under the constant care of his family, then his mother couldn’t take it anymore and tried to kill herself and then they finally decided to let him die and then question their motives. It was incredible.

It was so honest, so brave, so unbelievably scary, it touched me to the core. I love people who reveal themselves, I admire the courage it takes to drop all artifice and admit all the insecurities and shameful secrets. I know this because I’ve done it.

Anyway, I can’t wait for Monday. The kids go back to school, my MIL goes to my sister-in-law’s house (I love my MIL but after 4 months I need to come up for air) and I will have the house to myself. Well, me and all the cute hippy girls hanging around.

Chiros (another one of my heart daughters) is back from Cali and she and I were on completely different wavelengths this morning. I had the door open, I was cutting fabric for dog outfits, I had already been to the gym and grocery shopping and was generally feeling like a boss.

She – on the other hand – was hung over and contemplating a nap. I was Adderall to her ‘ludes but we were there for each other, equally happy and sympathetic.

We decided to have a celebration of life party on January 2nd (AKA when I get my life back) wherein we’ll invite a bunch of fun people over to cook, eat and drink. It will be wonderful and I will feel alive again.

Woop, there goes my buzz. This is going nowhere. I love you all, please be safe tonight and have a pee-free year. And MAC, I don’t need panty liners for the doggy diapers because I devised version v.3 with snap-in bamboo soaker pads. They are super cute and eco!



2 thoughts on “Last Drunk Post of the Year

  1. Happy New Year Viv! Sorry about Radish. And happy about you feeling like a boss. And so sorry to be the one to tell you that the kids don’t go back to school til WEDNESDAY! But then you will have your life back!! 😘

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