The long, hard, glorious fall

At the insistence of my close friend and (only) reader, Brian, I am writing another blog post. It's easy to let a blog slowly die out. You start out with great intentions but eventually the fervor wanes and blog posting takes a back seat to Marriage Ref reruns. But Brian has suffered the heartbreak from the discontinuation of my past blogs. I just can't hurt him again. So here we go.

This is what the last 2 weeks have looked like:

Yes, my month long reign as Queen of Sobriety came to a crashing end. Not only did I fall off the wagon, it ran me over then dragged me off a cliff onto the jagged rocks below. And what a glorious fall it was.

The fact of the matter is, beer is a wonderful thing. Sure it can promote terrible decision-making, ruin lives, destroy families, and make you wake up feeling like this guy:

But it also turns strangers into friends. Bartenders into therapists. Indifference into blind lust. And problems into fuzzy memories.

And, unfortunately, weight loss into weight gain. The last two weeks have been great, but as a result, my weight loss plan has derailed. My body had to do something with all those extra calories. And I'm waking up with hangovers again. As boring as that month off booze was, I felt great physically and mentally.

So what's a girl to do? I have to crawl back onto the wagon. This weight loss is important to me. I won't cut out alcohol entirely but it has to be limited, at least until we get to LA. I proved to myself that I can cut beer out entirely for a month, so what's 2 months of moderation?

As they say, Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.


Well, except a six pack of ice-cold Summer Ales.


Bear with me, it's going to be a long 2 months.