Super, Wonderfully, Fantastically, Incredibly Intoxicated

Okay. Fine. Drunk. No, not drunk. Intoxicated. Intoxicated is two beers (fine, three) + Bliss. So it's intoxicated and not drunk. Here's the deal: I'm starting my new life. A new life that requires me to not be in bed but to be out, about and really live. Here's one of the first tips I'm going to pass on so you can start to make your life more groovy. ASK FOR HELP. That's what I did tonight and it totally paid off. I "rang the alarm" as Beyonce would say (though I'm not totally sure of the definition, I think it means to let everybody know something). So I let my girls know: I NEED SOME COMPANY. I pondered as I called and emailed, "How do you say, I'm depressed, I need my girls?" The thing about sometimes being depressed is you can't creatively think on your feet (i.e. lie). So I went with a more different approach: THE TRUTH. "Hey, what's up, it's me. Listen... I'm depressed and I need my girls." Wow. It felt freeing, weird, exciting. And you know what? No one really asked questions, no one freaked out. They just showed up, one by one at this cool little bar (with couches, which is very important, because I am going from my bed life, and I'm not quite ready for "sitting" life, so a couch is a very non-threatening way to start. And we drank and laughed and looked at boys and gossiped and I THOUGHT: I'M SO LUCKY... BECAUSE I'M NOT ALONE. And I don't know if I knew that yesterday. So go ahead... try it. You don't even need to have beer. You can go out for... pudding. Pudding is good. You don't even have to talk about why you feel down. I didn't. I just needed to know I had friends. That = Bliss.

Super, Wonderfully, Fantastically, Incredibly Intoxicated

Hello World!

It's just been a few days since I saw an ex-love staring back at me on TV. Oh, wait, he wasn't staring back at me, he was staring at his new beautiful bride as she walked down the aisle. Ouch! (This is our new techno world, ladies, and yes, we might just have to watch the exes we worked so hard to forget, on TV. And let me tell you, it ain't pretty.) What's weird is, as I sat, riveted, watching this documentary (only getting up during commercial breaks to ravage my fridge, "Why is there no liquor in this house!"), I had the oddest feeling of... not being jealous. The overwhelming thought I had was, "They are such a perfect couple. Why did I fight so hard to be with him? Why did I cry so hard when it was over? Why did I waste one hundred days in bed?" After all, they were meant to be and we were not. But now I want my hundred days back.

I pulled out all my journals and found this wasn't the first time nor the last I wasted a hundred days in bed.

In fact, I must confess, I'm in bed now. And that's where I spent yesterday and the day before. As I turn back the pages of my journal, I realize I'm here again, living the opposite of how I want to live my life: I'm living it in bed.

When I'm sad it's there, depressed it's there. When I want to escape and hide, it's there. The thing I've come to realize is NO ONE IS GOING TO GIVE ME THIS TIME BACK. And also THIS IS NOT HOW I EXPECTED MY LIFE TO BE.

Two years ago, I had everything a girl could dream of: An awesome, creative, high paying job (I was a sitcom writer!), I had a great, fun, loving boyfriend, I was thin (sorry, girls, hate to be a cliche, but I was rockin' the skinny jeans), I had just bought my first house and my family was healthy-happy. Then, my world fell apart. My cousin was killed, I lost my job, my boyfriend and I broke up and the house... well, someone else rents that now so I can keep up my mortgage payment. Oh, and did I mention my mother had a nervous breakdown at Christmas? So that would be a "no" on the healthy-happy family.

Excuse me, I have to go lay down in bed.

Wait... NO I WON'T LIE DOWN! See, that's the whole point of my blog. I'm going to journal myself... well, back to my old self. I don't want to be sad and depressed anymore. I don't want my first instinct to be to run to my bed to throw the covers over my head because do you know where that gets me? Just to TOMORROW. Which means, I didn't LIVE yesterday. I just existed. Under the coveres. I don't just want to exist anymore.

I WANT TO LIVE JOYFULLY. So this is my journey to do it. To challenge myself everyday, to get out of bed and be happy. Since what I'm doing now isn't working, I WILL DO THE OPPOSITE. I WILL START LIVING NOW, INSTEAD OF JUST WAITING FOR THINGS TO HAPPEN. Maybe you want to, too. Maybe we'll help each other along the way. Because living "one hundred days in bed" doesn't have to mean literally, for you to want to change. Some people get depressed and lonely at night. Some people take to their beds on the weekends. Some people numb out and watch hours of TV. Some people look in the mirror and think, "How did I get here, with all this responsibility and no time to do what I want to do? How did I forget me?"

So, let's go find ourselves. How? Well, trust your "unemployed-adventure-for-life-trying-to-find-happiness-guru-wanna-be" to help you out. I'm going to scour the internet for how-to's, how not-to's, things that will help, things that won't help and post assignments, information and fun challenges to well, challenge us. To live life happy. Now. Not when we're sixty or when we have a health scare or when we're thin or have more money. BUT NOW. I can't think of a better time, can you?

Hello World!