Dear Diarhea,

I gotta stop with the beer for a while. Even just one a night gets me bloated all over again, like before the 7-day master cleanse. But I guess I've always been a beer choad. Do people really like me? 41 is really different than 29. I think I should do an abreviated version of the cleanse like once a month, 'cause I felt really good on it. The liver and colon cleanse pills are really tearing me a new one. But in a good way. I can't believe what's coming out of my ass, something old, something new, something borrowed, and deffinitely blue. All my friends are famous, they have drive and ambition, what's wrong with me?
So many things are going on, I don't know where to start.
Last night Sea Monkey and I watched Wedding Crashers another one and a half times. Our best lines right now are "Rule # 76: always follow through and play like a champion." and "yeah, you go have fun, I'm gonna go ice my balls and spit up blood. Team player." Then we waddled out the door to go to T.M.I., hosted by Anna Joy and Ali. We didn't care so much about the show, it was really to see the A's. Anna is home for 2 short days, taking a badly needed break from being the sole caregiver to her dying mom in Fresno. And Ali is still recovering from bad side effects of appendix removal surgery. I cannot believe the horror they are living right now. It's really cruel. Anyway, we only got a few blocks before getting pulled over by a cop. Broken headlight on a tattered old van filled with surfboards, on a Friday night, I guess he thought he had an easy bust. He had that nasty attitude at first like they do, and Sea Monkey got triggered for a second. Yet we stayed cool like zen masters and drove away with a just fixit ticket. After he saw that we were in fact two regular joe girls in their 40's, sober, with all the paperwork in order, he changed his tune. Of course we got to TMI too late though, after everybody was gone. Defeated but laughing, we waddled back home, back to the couch, where the Mrs. had come, after hours of rehearsal, to join us for round 3 of Wedding Crashers. Everything felt so right.
Now it's a new day, Diarhea, and me and Sea Monkey are at the pretentious cafe. They're playing a song that reminds me of Cheryl and Peggy in Amsterdam. I'm having a wave of love and missing them, a tidal wave of memories. I don't think other people are plagued with melancholic sentimentality like I am, is that why I get so stuck?
Today's plans:
1) work on "2006, the art project and science experiment,"
2) go surfing with Sea Monkey, even though it's a little breezy
3) attend Mrs. The Capt'n's concert tonight