I ran into pamphlets promoting Chicago’s Out of the Darkness walk at the gym and tanning salon.  I found it refreshing.  I am always mouthing on my blog about mental illness and the stigma and seeing the displays promoting the walk at common areas I find in my daily life was a breath of fresh air.

According to the foundation that sponsors the event, about 1 million people attempt suicide each year.  This makes suicide the leading cause of death among adults ages 18 to 64.   The leading cause of suicide is depression.

Mental illness cannot be ignored.  Depression cannot be ignored. Suicide cannot be ignored.

I will definitely be registering.  Check out the site for other walks being held throughout the US.

Lets get one thing out of the way.  I am the girl that buys all of the pink glossy covered books at Borders.  I don’t just “peruse” them for a few moments of hillarity and not purchase them.  I buy them immediately.

I will also say I had no problem being “that girl” last Saturday night.

According to Travis Stock MD, “that girl” is not the girl to be.  I need to reread the book.  I fail.

J and I decided we needed to get out of the house last Saturday night even if it meant staying local. The weekend before was the weekend the Chicago snow wouldn’t stop and we wound up exchanging 23423 text messages “pretending” we were talking at a bar.  It was our mock trial of debauchery.

We needed the real thing.  I, per the usual, took it to the extreme and J is right there up with me on the extremist level.

We began the night with a quiet drink at the local wine bar to see where the rest of the night would lead us.  This was my 1st drink of the night and only drink of the night that I paid for and clearly remember consuming.

After a few telephone calls, we decided to venture to Ontourage because NOTHING else was going on. It wasn’t exactly 65 degrees and sunny in Chicago.

We stopped and grabbed a few gas station energy pills and chased them with a couple of Red Bulls.  We set sail for La Salle and Ontario.

The moment we walked into Ontourage we noticed that J’s best guy friend had a table complete with 2 bottles of Goose.

Score.

He saw us coming and ordered yet another bottle.

I got sloppy.  REAL sloppy.

Of course we werent done yet because it was only 1:30 am.

We wound up going to 2 local afterhour bars. 

I got sloppier.

All withhin an hour I became the beligerent drunk by calling a Greek friend of J’s a malaka after being introduced, the emotional drunk by crying hysterically because of the L situation; which as of Friday has been resolved, and the sloppy floozy drunk trying to catch a veneral disease by throwing my tongue down some random guys throat for an hour or so.

Today marks a week of my detoxification.  After the above and the fact that I had all signs of alcohol poisoning on Sunday, I decided to stop drinking for a month.  It has been a week and I have decided that a month is unfathomable. 

When can I be the responsible drunk?

P.S. I didnt post this post any sooner because I am a walking contradiction.  If I would have wrote it the Monday following my night of debauchery it would have been all lies about how I was giving up the booze for life and joining the nunnery.  LIES!

P.P.S  My sudden need to giggle like a 19 year old on the telephone for HOURS with boy has also affected my blogging.  So shoot me because I sicken myself over it.  Trust me.

Thinking about what everyone thinks, is thinking, or has thought about me.

“How good looking is my wife?”

She is amazing, simply amazing. 

I was rather disappointed with Michelle’s Inaguration Day dress but she blew me away as she walked onto the stage at the Neighborhood Ball.

Let’s not forget the girls in their Crew Cuts by J.Crew coats.  Simply adorable.

I’m off to shed some more “proud of America” tears - be back tomorrow with the weekend’s debauchery.

Eagles lose leaving ExAss extremly miserable and disappointed and me fulfilled with knowing his gf has to deal with his immature ways and not me.

In other sport related news, my babies “The Cubs.”. Brian Roberts of the Orioles will not be wearing Cubbie blue.

I drunkedly read a MLB alert this morning and read it as Roberts was being traded.

I was stoked. It was a good for us good for them move.

Reality hit when I shared the news with my brother who corrected me.

My car not starting because of the horrific bone chilling cold, freezing my gas line. At least that’s what my Step-Dad said. I just nodded as my nasal passages froze and lips turned blue. Apparently, I need “gas line antifreeze.” I’m sorry I didn’t know I lived in Alaska and I had no clue where one puts “anitfreeze”.

The freezing cold resulted in me talking to my bestest J for 3 hours via the telephone. We live less than a mile from each other but the Chicago weather has obviously turned us into 2 telephone loving cabin fevered freaks with earaches.

My lunging leg wobbling in defeat as I did lunge/hamstring curls using 10 lb weights. I was a Bacci hair short of passing out. My personal trainer had to hand feed me a 100c pack of mini muffins. A bite of a Fiber One bar before the gym does not work out well for me.

The surprise that my personal trainer is pregnant. She sprung the news on me as I was huffing and puffing on the elliptical. No worries. She plans on working out until the day she goes into labor. Isn’t laziness a part of pregnancy? Hell, if I ever am cursed blessed with a child one day when I am old and all boozed out, I will be all about French Fries and daytime television. I’m kidding kind of.

Today I reached an all time low and hid my Triple Sec and Schnapps because it looks like the liquor in them was slowly dropping. Momma is hitting the sauce again. She has polished off a bottle of Everclear when in desperation hence my reason for hiding the booze. I am pretty sure even the cough medicine and rubbing alcohol are options for her.

L not returning my text. The text read, “Was ExAss circumcised?” It was a serious question. I really am unsure. I think I have decided he was uncircumcised.

I spent an hour emailing a man of Greek origin. 

Chicago nightlife is hurting with the recession and the crippling cold. Its hurting so bad that I received cold calls rather than text messages trying to coerce my ass out in the cold. The calls offered free chair massages and free cover through 2009. The recession and my lack of job will not keep me from enjoying the Chicago nightlife but negative degree weather will. I’m not even sure a free fur coat would get me out tonight.

One of my best guy friends decided to propose to his “ginger” girlfriend on New Years Eve. I just found out today via word of mouth. I am not going to lie, I am kind of hurt. I introduced them. I hope my prize is not being invited to the wedding.

Thank goodness I didn’t waste much time blogging about all of the above because I have Style Network waiting for me with my best friends Split Ends and Clean House.

I left Target spending only $18.98 and leaving with a very important realization.

I’ve always wanted a label maker. You know one of those fancy ones.

Drool.

My knees began to wobble as I oogled them at Target.

Oh the possibilities.

I bought 5 Fuzes, Orbitz Sangria Gum, and Fill Monty by Soap and Glory.

Call me crazy.  Just do it.

Bacci was what one calls a “paper puppy”.  I bought him as a chihuahua from a posting in a neighborhood paper.  I met his Mom and Dad who also looked to be chihuahuas, much more chihuahuathen Bacci.  Bacci did not come with papers and it really didn’t matter to me.

He was too cute for it to matter.

As a puppy mommy, I have received many questions in regard to his breed.  His puppy kindergarten teacher wondered, his vet, and numerous people we have come across at the dog park, on walks, or at the pet store.

I decided to buy a doggie DNA kit at the pet store this past December.

Bacci pacing the kitchen counter.  Ha.  He knew something was up.

I know.  I never said I was sane.

L and I swabbed his mouth and sent in the cotton tip full of his doggy DNA to the lab for results.

Yes, those are Bacardi and Diets in the background but I assure you they did not taint the results.

We received the results in the mail a couple of days ago. 

He is primarily _______ but has traces of ______, ______, and ______.

It is now up to you. Fill in the blanks. The winner* will be determined by the closest guess and if a tie then I will randomly draw a winner.

Tweet the word! Post the word!

*Winner will receive a $15 gift card to Target and if applicable a little something something for your 4 legged friend.  The contest ends January 30th.

Here is Bacci at 8 months weighing 10 pounds.  Vet doesnt expect him to get much bigger.  He turns 1 at the end of April 22nd.

Good Ol’ Daley held a press conference on Wednesday. He warned the residents of Chicago that the cold may kill us.   He is a good guy like that.  He then quickly changed the subject to the city’s new tourism campaign and how fabulous Chicago is during the winter.

Winter in Chicago is GRAND says the fat Irish man.

I live here. Chicago’s winters are not grand. They are inconvenient and expensive.

If you are foolish enough to visit Chicago during our winter please be advised.

Chicago’s winter parking bans are ridiculously confusing. I have lived here for 27 years and still cannot get through a winter without receiving a parking ticket.

Once you think that you got things down pat, city sticker and any other local parking permit you may or may not need.

You receive a bright orange ticket for something ridiculous.

I received a parking ticket just the other day for parking too far from the curb. I am so sorry that my side street was not plowed leaving me no other option.

PERHAPS Chicago should spend more money plowing streets rather than ticketing? Just a thought.

If you own a car in Chicago and escape an orange ticket during the winter then you probably will be blessed with a flat tire. That’s just how it works.

Chicago winters also bring potholes. Lots of them. Chicago, home of the pothole. Driving around in Chicago during the winter is straight up dangerous. I picture myself in a video game as I dodge the many monstrous bottomless pits.

I know what you are saying, there is always public transportation. Are you kidding me?

A day in Chicago is not complete without word of a line under construction, line on fire, fee increase, major bus delays, or a derailment.

Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE CHICAGO but I do not believe Chicago is the place to visit during the winter.

P.S. I hate the bean. I said it.

I planned on posting about puppies today. In particular, Bacci, my adorable puppy who usually graces the page of this ol’ blog.

But…

Something frightened me today and I figured it was worth more than just a tweet.

“Just had a major dissociation episode. I haven’t had one of those in forever.”

I wasn’t here and now for what seemed to be 20 minutes this evening. You may say that I was in a mental fog but quickly as I stepped out of my car I realized I had not put my car in park. This was more than a mental fog.

Dissociation and Panic Attacks are 2 things of my past that I would rather not relive.

I was neither here nor now.

I couldn’t recall where I was or where I was coming from.  Who was I?  I felt detached from reality.

I probably wouldn’t have realized my mind and body had went blank for approximately 20 minutes if it had not been for my car slowly rolling back in reverse out of my driveway.

I clicked back into the now.

Something in my past has come up more than once in the last couple of weeks. I tried hard to tuck this “something” back into its drawer, folded neatly and pristine. My mind concluded that I was crazy. It’s much easier for me to declare myself crazy than to face an issue head on with an open mind and honesty.

My Lexapro dose has been cut into half for the past 2 weeks. Am I no longer letting the drugs do all of the work, allowing my past to surface, in turn I deal by dissociating?

Dissociation shores up and our mind expands to release the torrent of crushed emotions.

I no longer have the guidance of a therapist.  I am  unsure where to start with tackling an event or events of my past that I find shameful, embarassing, and unimportant.