July | 2012 | Diaries of a Mad White Woman

My husband recently gave up drinking for 30 days which has put me into a total tail spin of confusion and hurt. I mean I want to support him but I also did not sign up for a sober marriage so I’ve tried to find common ground by remaining moderately coherent Monday through Thursday. While this may seem like it aint no thing, think again. I mean, its not like I’ve turned my back on vodka but I’ve definitely taken a bit of a hiatus from my normal nightly buzz due.We are on day nine and I feel like I’ve landed in the fourth stage of AA – for those of you who aren’t familiar with the 12 steps, it’s the soul searching – moral inventory pit stop. I actually think that it’s probably the step that most people hit right before saying “fuck this”….. and landing back at the happy hour scene at their nearby Applebees conveniently located near Linda’s Low Priced Liquors.

I personally don’t believe in quitting anything completely even if it is just for thirty days. I mean who says you have to throw in the towel on all vices? Not me. Weekday vodkas have been such an integral part in the last decade of my life that I feel like I’m abandoning my mentor, the one clear thing in my life that has remained constant.

One of my only weekly perks is pouring myself a cold vodka vodka, hold the tonic, turning on NBCs Nightyly News and catching up on all the exciting world news of the day. Do you watch the nightly news? If not, start…. I’m real into it and it helps me get through adult conversations in a more convincible way. And can I just say bravo to Brian Williams…. He is such a cutey cute in a real manly buttoned up way. I wouldn’t mind letting him broadcast into my box…. I mean tv…. I mean box….. well you get it.

The last few nights I’ve had a wild wild west stand off with my dining room mini bar like I’m Wyatt Erp just waiting for the bar to make the first move so that I jump at an opportunity to attack.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve had a few cocktails but with every pour and sweet savory sip I can feel the judgment and guilt – probably the same bitter fumes that I give off when I’m trying to diet but miraculously we have a constant supply of 2% milk stocked in the fridge like we’re planning for a nuclear attack and intend on making it through the dark confusing nights with milk.

One odd solace I’ve found in my binge diet is that I really like the feeling of Vaseline coated onto my dry sober face at night. I literally have gone through almost an entire travel sized bottle in the last week. Strange, yet comforting.

I think my quasi dry spell is about up and this ole girl deserves a heavy cock to dip my tail in tonight.

In the event I have the opportunity to get remarried, I will make certain that my 2^nd husband is an Asian man, hopefully named Kim or John. Actually, considering my first husband’s name isJohn, Ill just stick with that.

I had the exciting opportunity to be a part of my very first Asian wedding, from what I gathered throughout the weekend there are many different varieties of Asians and this particular event was made up of Chinese, Koreans and Vietnamese. Growing up in a non cultural home, I maintained an impression that Asian people were small, smiley and had an innate ability to do acrylic nails.

While all those things may be true, they are much more complex than that.

The day of the wedding kicked off around 9am, I woke up slightly hangover to an empty hotel bed and was excited about stretching my legs in a king sized bed without the hassle or hair of my husbands body lurking nearby. After a mid morning doze, I decided to get ambitious and start my day off with a cup of coffee, a bottle of water and mimosa. I’ve come to the realization that I may be the thirstiest person on the planet and it gives me great joy to have several liquid options to get my day started on the right track.

I managed to get myself together, apply 8 layers of make up comprised of Maybelline’s new mouse application (my verdict is still out on this product so don’t run out and get it just yet), concealer, tantalizer, blush, more blush until I rose the white flag and decided that cheap may be the new black. I was ready to go.

The wedding party, along with a few stragglers like myself waited with anticipation for the party bus. From afar, I could see an obnoxious looking black van with cursive writing on the side that said “Sam’s Limousine”….. could I be this lucky? Yes, it was ours for the day. One by one, we piled on to the caravan with as much excitement as Chaz Bono had when she got her first buzz cut.

It was noon in the real world but on Sam’s “Club” it felt like it was 3am which was good for me because I could feel my face melting down. As we made the trip from the hotel to the ceremony, the lights stayed dim, the strobe light was bouncing and hip hop jams were bumping from wall to wall. When I thought of how this wedding would play out in my mind, it did not include the sounds of Ace of Base, Nate Dawg, or Dr Dre, but I was mistaken, this was turning out to be one of the best pre-ceremony weddings I had ever been too. I was leery to forecast the rest of the day with such high marks so I decided to wait for my final assessment until the reception.

Once we arrived to the church, the bridesmaids separated from the men but lucky for me I didn’t have any real obligations since I wasn’t in the wedding party which made it very convenient to sneak in and out of Sam’s Club for a fresh cocktail as I waited for the ceremony to start.

The ceremony went off without a hitch, my husband looked like a little school boy standing next to the groom and it made my little toaster oven light up. Walking out of the catholic sanctuary, I took a little hand dip in the holy water. As I mentioned before, I like liquids and figured it couldn’t hurt.

The ride back to the reception site managed to live up to my high expectations for the rest of the day…. The stripper pole came in handy as I watched a fairly new mom and one of my closest friends take a twirl, I can barely get up from the bed much less uplift my body on a moving van to play twist around the stripper pole. This was awesome!

The groom passed around a bottle of crown and much to my dismay every single bridesmaid took a pull. I was amazed by these tiny little Asian girls ability to hold their own around a van full of overweight whiteys. As a veteran drinker, I often find myself having little confidence in other women’s ability to party in such a condensed and binge like fashion as myself, but my narrow minded perception of the Asian lady liver was proven to be very wrong.

So my favorite part of the wedding was saved for last, hold onto your cocktail because each table was dressed with a floral arrangement atop a Lazy Susan that included a bottle of vodka, a bottle of coke, sprite and tonic. Each white table received a bottle of Vodka, while each brown table received a bottle of Hennessey. Is this a joke, I thought? Surely, this cannot be happening….surely I did not settle on an open bar for my own wedding when I could have offered the convenience of table service?

Our table, table 17 managed to take down almost two bottles of vodka, granted I did have to steal a bottle from table 2, but they didn’t seem to notice and I attempted to be as undercover as possible. As I was pouring my fourteenth shot of the night, I overheard a noise from the speaker that was like no other noise I had ever heard before. My eyes darted to the dance floor and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The father of the bride was singing “I did it my way” by Frank Sinatra to Kareoke. I honestly could not believe my eyes. I took back my shot and felt some strange emotions boiling up inside me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of this tiny man belting out this beloved American classic. As my emotions were getting the best of me so was the leader of the brown Rat Pack, he was fighting back tears to finish the song! This is not a lie….. It was at that moment, I knew…….. not only had this been the best wedding I had ever been too but my mid life feelings of being a Jew were completely off. I was never intended to be a Jew, these are my people. They drink, they giggle, they dip all their foods in sauces and they stop weddings by putting on their own version of “Vietnam’s Got Talent”.

I’m sure the night ended well but I lost consciousness around 11:30 and fear that if I did remember the late night events that it shouldn’t end up on the world wide web for fear of imprisonment, unemployment and divorce.

Thank you to all my new Asian friends, I hope you will invite me to more of your events. Mazel