I haven’t been to bed yet.

I stayed up all night watching the Royal Wedding pre-game, and then the big event sometime around, um…something early o’clock.

See, I took a grainy webcam picture of Gigi and I in the dark for posterity.

She refused to wear the fancy hat I bought her and pretty much slept through the whole thing.

Or, she was faking.

In which case, I am beyond proud, because it’s taken me years to perfect fake sleeping in bed while someone was trying to coax me into doing stuff, and even still, I have trouble regulating my breathing to make it look natural.

Sigh, she’s going to make her husband so sexually frustrated someday.  Just like her mommy.

Anyways, I am exhausted.  Like, I’m high but can only speak with a British accent.  Like a mish-mash of Dumbledore and Harry Shearer in This Is Spinal Tap.

Pre-kids, I could stay up no problem.

When I was 22 years old, I lived alone in an apartment in Columbus.  I had never lived alone before.

Andy had returned home to northern Ohio to finish at another school, I stayed behind, we briefly split up, it was messy, we don’t talk about it, moving on.

Living on my own was a weird and amazing experience.

First, it was incredibly lonely, but it was also incredibly freeing.

I could come home from class, take my pants off, and spent the rest of the evening in my underwear.

I can’t do that now, because honestly, I can’t 100% vouch I didn’t miss a patch of hair behind my thigh.  Plus, I only have two kinds of underwear; giant maternity underwear I wear on my period or the see-through panties I buy when I break something of Andy’s.   I don’t want to explain either of them to my children.

Aside from my crazy co-dependent neighbor and her alcoholic boyfriend, Allen, that slept in our hall three nights a week, living independently had it’s moments of bliss.  I ate pasta on the couch, drinking beer, writing in my journals, navigating a relationship over email, and watching chick tv with Biore strips across my nose.  I answered to no one.  Well, except Allen.

You have the wrong apartment Allen.

No seriously, it’s the wrong apartment, Allen.

Ugh, fine, yes, I love you too, Allen.

Sure, Allen, lots of 25 year olds have erectile dysfunction, now go to sleep.

I didn’t have the pleasure of pulling an all-nighter watching any royal weddings in college, though it would have been amazing, and totally not as distracting as it was when there is a 30 year old hairy man next to you snoring and chewing in his sleep.

But, I do have fond memories of coming home after a night out, and crashing on the sofa next to my pug, Lucy, with a bottle of wine and and my go-to favorites.

The first season of Saturday Night Live. I love Lucy.  Gilmore Girls.

Even now, these are my vices.

Gilda when I’m in my bed too deep, afraid to climb out and face the world.

Lucy when I can’t sleep and miss my grandmother so much I can’t breath.

Lorelai and Rory when I’m at the bottom of a hole, aching for some sort of family when it feels like I have none.

These women have become pieces of me.

This week I’ve been giving away all my most favorite things.  Well, aside from burritos, but those just don’t mail well, and the lady behind the desk at the post office with a mustache told me I wasn’t allowed to mail alcohol.  But, I’d be remiss, on this, the last day of my birthday week, to not share these final pieces with you.

SNL The Best of Gilda Radner

I Love Lucy: The Complete Series

Gilmore Girls:  The Complete Series Collection.

Thanks for playing along with me this week, and making my first 30th birthday a lot less painful and in need of bail money than expected.

You know when a waiter puts food in front of you and is like, enjoy your meal,and without thinking you are all, you too. Even though your waiter isn’t eating and it doesn’t make any sense?

Or when you call to to make an appointment for your yearly pap smear, and the receptionist is like, alrighty, you’re all set Mrs. Gibbons, and you are like, ok I love you, bye.  Even though you don’t love her, it came out automatically, and now it’s going to be really uncomfortable when you go in there to ask about vaginal rejuvenation?

Thank you for all the amazing birthday wishes.  And happy birthday to you, too.

This giveaway runs today only, ending tonight at 12am EST. One (1) winner will be randomly selected, and the prize delivered to them upon confirmation of winning.  You must reply to me within 24 hours, or a new winner will be drawn. You may leave as many comments as you want, make sure you use a valid email address.

 

 

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