I’m learning the lessons… only much later than everyone else.

I had an epiphany while at dinner with my best girlfriend last night. (Actually, it was two nights ago now. My slacking has reached an all time high.) Are you ready for this?

When you’re married and you drink too much, IT’S OKAY. You can get sloppy with your spouse. Your spouse will take care of you. Your spouse is (usually) someone you can trust. So, drink up!

IT IS MUCH, MUCH DIFFERENT WHEN YOU’RE SINGLE.

I’ve been going out a lot. There’s usually alcohol involved. Not always, but... usually. (Sometimes there are board games involved. I can't tell if this means we're progressing or not.) (FYI, I suck at Clue.)

I enjoy having cocktails. The other Stephanie, the one usually chained and padlocked to my neurosis, gets to come out and have some fun. And she is one cool chick. She's funny and carefree, totally self assured and confident. She knows exactly what she wants to say and how to say it and doesn't let any pesky insecurities get in her way. It's a beautiful thing. But.

In the last year? Fun Stephanie has done some things un-fun Stephanie is not proud of. (That didn't come out quite right.) I've crossed a line with one friend, led another on... I'll let you contemplate the many sins I may have committed because I'm not going to share the nitty gritty details. But it was all done with the very lame excuse of "I was drunk." Like that somehow makes it okay. Like I shouldn't be held accountable.

I'm finally figuring it out. I do stupid things when I'm drunk. I thought as long as no one was bleeding or getting arrested, NO BIG DEAL. It's all fun and games, right? Wrong.

I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want to wake up and think OH. MY. GOD. WHAT DID I DO?! And, worse, not be able to remember. And I certainly don't want to have any regrets that make my face burn to think of them.

So, in an effort to aid my No More Mistakes in 2012 campaign, we're gonna lighten up on the boozin'. (I'm pretty sure that apostrophe is in the wrong place.) And by "we" I mean me. Although, I may have to convince a friend or two of the merits of less drinking and more control over one's behavior.

Five. Before my hand falls off.

1. My left hand is swollen and painful. I have many theories, but no concrete explanations. With the way my luck is going lately, I thought it best to post something before the damn thing falls off.

2. If you've seen my (horribly infrequent) tweets, you heard the heartbreaking news. On Sunday, after moving out of my mother's house, I went to grab a few items from storage. Namely my books and space heaters ('cause I swear I froze my nipples off that first night in the new place.) I got there only to discover that 98% of my stuff had been stolen. Sad fucking day. And it's like the most horrible gift that keeps on giving, 'cause each day since then I remember another item that I'll never see again. (All my books. Just poof! Gone. Fucking assholes.)

3. In happier news: I moved into my new room this past weekend. I say "room" 'cause that's exactly what it is. A room. With a bathroom and a walk-in closet. No kitchen. (Yeah. I know. But since all of my kitchen appliances were also stolen...) However, my room is apart from the main house. I have my own entrance. And when I bounce up the steps, past my very own mailbox and use my very own key to open my very own door and walk into my very own room to the sound of ABSOLUTELY NO ONE, it's like the very best room on the whole freaking planet that ever existed, amen.

4. What's more? The house and property belong to wonderful people. People I know. People who hug me when they see me and tell me how happy they are to have me living there. Technically, they're Jon's people. I'd never have met them had we not been married. (Jon is best friends with Ben. Ben is married to Kristina. Kristina is Charley's sister. Charley owns the house. There'll be a quiz on this later.)

5. Despite the fact that I have a lot less to unpack than I originally anticipated, this whole moving and settling in thing has taken up, like, all of my time. Well, that and work. Which is why this place looks like shit. Forgive my appearance. Forgive my absence. Things'll be back to normal soon. (Of course, normal for me means clusterfuck.) Let's all just go out for a cocktail, okay?

Five. Each of these things deserve its own post, but.

1. Thanksgiving is on Thursday. Thanksgiving. On Thursday. When the fuck did that happen?

2. I pierced my eyebrow. And while I was at it, I crossed out the two, wrote in a one and decided to pretend I'm 19 again.

3. I've been going out, like, way too often. This is both fun and problematic.

4. I'm a big, fat NaNo failure. (Emphasis on "fat" and "failure.") (I blame #3 above.) (Yes, for both.)

5. Come December 1st I. Am. Moving. Out. Way, way more to come on this later.

I call this one "distractions"

Of course, if you could see it now, there'd be an additional tab open for this post (duh) and one for dictionary.com because I couldn't remember if "distraction" was spelled with an "e" or an "i." I really should just quit now.

This is a problem.

This is what my NaNoWriMo profile looked like last night.



Unfortunately, it still looks like that. I think this whole NaNoWriMo thing kicks off in, like, two hours. And, naturally, I've decided to become painfully obsessed with the appearance of this fucking place. Why? Why can't I be a normal person and settle on a template and then- oh, I don't know- MOVE THE FUCK ALONG. (I wonder what a psychologist would say. Daddy issues always seem to be a common scapegoat.) Anyway, when I get home, I'm going to write my ass off. About what? I'm still not sure. But, peeps? There will be words. Oh, yes. There will be words.

Goodbye forever. Or, at least until December. Or, you know, until I give up.

Five. Quickly.

1. I got the coolest opportunity to help design a real, live author's personal blog. I'm going to tell you all about it just as soon as I sit and finish that post. But, yeah. It made my fucking year.

2. I'm doing NaNoWriMo. I thought I was agreeing to NaBloPoMo and I thought, what the hell. I tried once and was a miserable failure, but, sure, I can do this. Then I realized that, stupid me, I agreed to NaNoWriMo. Which means I've committed to writing AN ENTIRE NOVEL IN ONE MONTH. So, see you not at all during the month of November.

3. IT'S ALMOST NOVEMBER. Are you freaking kidding me?!

4. My brother graduated from boot camp a few days ago. Now he's a sailor. For the fucking Navy. More on this later, but, dude, I'm like a proud papa. Or, you know, the female equivalent. ("Proud mama" doesn't sound as good.)

5. I've pretty much taken the blog here public. By public, I mean I've linked to it on a couple of my public profiles. I'm pretty sure this is a bad idea- I mean, the last time I went public, I had to move and that wasn't fun for anyone- but I'm tired of hiding. (I promise, no more moves. Ever.) With that being said, I'm also going to start importing my old posts. The trip down memory lane will be either fun or depressing as hell. We'll see.

6. New phone. Let the reading resume.

7. Obviously I can't count.

This is going to make reading more difficult.

Not to mention, you know, USING MY PHONE IN GENERAL.

I know what you're thinking. This wouldn't have happened to a real book.

Of music and stalkers.

My mom came into my room one morning blathering on about God-only-knows like she does when I've just woken up and she has me at a disadvantage. (I am not a morning person. It takes a significant amount of time for me to get from opening my eyes to actually getting out of bed. During this time, I have no choice but to listen.)

All I heard was "something something Adele something something listen something something song." And I was all ABSOLUTELY NOT. Because even if there's a chance I'll like it, I absolutely detest (WITH MUCH PASSION) being forced to listen to anyone's "favorite" song. So, I told her no and added a "leave me the hell alone, woman!" for good measure.

She pouted and walked away. Not five minutes later, Adele's Rolling In The Deep began reverberating throughout the house. I thought it was The Big One. My mother... she will not be deterred.

I've been on a country music kick lately. Blame it on Jake Owen. It all spiraled out of control after I heard Barefoot Blue Jean Night on the radio. I liked it so much I downloaded the album. It's pretty much been on repeat for the last three weeks. (That voice of his... wow.) I even started stalking him on Twitter. (This is so not something I'm proud of.)

I've got the house to myself tonight and I've spent the last three hours watching music videos on YouTube. It started spilling over onto my Facebook page and, well, it seemed only natural to drag some of it in here and let everyone wallow in the feelgoodness of these songs. Have a listen. Or not. I hate to be forced; I'm certainly not gonna force you.

(But seriously, if you listen to any of them, listen to the last. Will Hoge. He'll give you chills. In the best possible way.)

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lb9q1ScC4cg]

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx-dUsh6OT8]

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-R9GrGheMRw]

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxWjtWONuGc]

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T48Z3lt8ADY]