Grumpus

When I was a kid, my mom would call me a grumpus whenever I was in a bad mood. Grumpus is sort of a stupid word, but it's pretty much how I feel right now. We had a cocktail party on Saturday night and it was fun but I drank too much and then felt like an idiot in the morning because I couldn't remember what stupid shit I might have said or if I threw up or not or if I was a jerk to anybody and I just felt like a spaz. I didn't have a painful hangover but I had a sluggish stupid hangover where everything felt slow and wobbly all day.

I need to not drink so much when I have parties. I've gotten better at regulating myself in public and at other people's parties, but at my own parties I go a little stupid and just lose track of my brain. It's not a good way to be.

There is a fairly amusing picture of me that was taken at the height of my drunkenness though. It may be a potential icon once I get it online.

But other than my morning after anxiety the party went well and people appeared to have a good time. I made pitchers of cocktails (one called the Presbyterian that we rechristened the Lutheran in honor of the Kohl family and the alcoholic pastor who was the reason we got kicked out of Trinity Lutheran Missouri Synod Church circa 1987) and one that started out as the Zeus (one part vodka two parts Campari = grody!) but was changed to the newly invented Wobbly Bits with the addition of some orange juice and cranberry juice. I had at least three of each. I wore my tiki dress for what I think may be the last time. I don't like it on me as much as I used to. I think it makes me look too hippy now. It is still an awesome dress with tikis and rainbows and a keyhole neckline and if anyone out there is about an American size 12 and wants a tiki dress, let me know maybe I can hook you up.

Jeremy made cheese fondue and an aubergine fondue dip. Our house guest Mollie made salsas (tomato and cilantro, and mango and mint). By the end of the night everyone was hopefully tipsy and full. I went to bed roughly 2 hours before everyone left, I blame the Lutherans. Also a Mollie invented drink called the Mangina in honor of the Mighty Boosh episode with Old Greg the fish.

And I got to have one discussion about the weight I've lost since out wedding, we have a photo from the ceremony up in the living room and my face is a good deal rounder in it. A friend who has only really known me since after the salmonella, made some fairly benign comments about the difference and asked how I lost the weight and I told her the truth, some of it due to the walking I do more now but a good part of it due to illness and we discussed that a little bit and then moved on but I found myself feeling weird about the whole conversation. I never really considered myself to be THAT fat then. I knew I'd put on weight and I wasn't thrilled about it, but I remained pretty decent looking throughout. But the more people comment on it (and most my friends here were met well after the salmonella or at the tail end of it) the more uncomfortable I feel about it. I don't like the value I place on roundness of my face, and I don't like the value others place on it as well. That was one of the happiest days of my life and I hate that I'm beginning to look back on it with anything close to regret.

Yeah, I'm a total grumpus today.