Wow, that sounds ominous, does it not? Lemme explain. No, lemme sum up. I kinda lost 2013. Don’t know where I put it. Perhaps in my other pants. Those of you who know me from real life or Facebook or whatever, carrier pigeons, maybe, know that I’ve been in a rehab facility since July. Before that, I was in the hospital/psych ward/hospital/psych ward and lather, rinse, repeat, for most of the year, when I wasn’t blind drunk. So you know, status quo.
I’m being lighthearted about all of this right now because in all honesty, I’m a little scared of writing about everything that’s been going on. So the long and the short of it is that I’ve been living in a rehab house in Massachusetts, getting my life back together. I’ve got 106 days sober, and I’ll be here until the end of November. Then it’s back to Jersey and getting my life back. It’s been too long, my beloved little squirrels. Too long indeed.
So that’s the story in an itsy witsy nutshell. I’m healing. I am vowing that I will never set foot in another psych ward again. And I am working my ASS off here. The reason I haven’t been writing is obviously that I live with a bunch of other people, and I can’t write about them because of confidentiality laws and also because I’m not an asshole. So let’s just say (because it’s the truth and I can’t stop telling the truth these days, there’s something in the water here, I swear) that I love them all and we’re really a family up in here. It’s something I’m super grateful for.
Lest you think I’ve gotten all Pollyanna on you, I assure you that I am still the same wise ass motherfucker you’ve always known, just without the haze of vodka. I’m also getting some serious mental health treatment at McLean Hospital (that’s the place from “Girl Interrupted” and yes, the tunnels are real) and although it is as far from easy as it can be, I think I’m doing pretty well. I’ve still got some time here and whoa nelly, will things be a-changin’ once I get back to Jersey, but all in all, life is as good as it’s going to get given the circumstances right now.
So what CAN I tell you? Oh, the blog is going to be getting revamped – I discovered iPiccy, and I’m playing around a lot with photos for the new header and stuff along with my tech wizard and pal Cultural Savage. He’s a good egg. Hmm, what else? I got new glasses and a haircut, that’s good:
And I’m back in my beloved Boston, which means it is no longer dangerous to wear my Red Sox paraphernalia around town. Which is good, because RED SOX NATION, BABY! And also the idiots in Harvard Square are still idiots, which is almost comforting in a way. This is my brain on Harvard Square:
Get out of my way. Shut up. Move faster. Stop taking pictures. Get out of my way. Cross the damn street. Put away your phone. No I will not take your picture. Stop asking me for money. Get out of my way. Learn to maneuver a sidewalk. Stop trying to sell me Jesus. Get out of my way.
And so on, and so forth. My mom thinks it’s the New Yorker in me coming out, but it’s all Boston, baby. Sure there’s part of me that wants to stay forever and ever, but I WILL be returning to Jersey, because there are three leetle keetens who I miss TERRIBLY and are currently living it up at my parents’ house, where they bounce around the place confusing the dog and curl up with my dad to watch television. So I’m relieved about that.
These days, I spend a great deal of time on the BUS, and the BUS sucks, because it’s the BUS, but sometimes there are cute boys, and I always have my iPod (which I will always call my Walkman, even when I am 93 years old, because I am a child of the 80s and it’s a WALKMAN, DAMMIT) and my incessant crocheting projects, and if you ever want every single old lady on the bus to be your new best friend, crochet on the bus, because WHOA do they love that. I made this:
and I’m in the process of making a blankie for my friend Dina’s little boy, and THEN maybe I’ll make a blankie for YOU! Line forms to the left.
I find that the crocheting helps my NERVES like when I am in boring GROUPS and MEETINGS and watching TEEVEE and of course on the BUS. Because what have we learned, my beloved squirrels? That’s right, the bus sucks.
With that, I’m going to skitter off, but thank you, all of you, even YOU, for continuing to read – please let me know in the comments that you’re still around. I love every single one of you from your dye job to your pedicures.