Friday, January 19

Turning 40!

In 49 days I will be 40 years old. FORTY! That's insane!!

I won't believe it! I can't believe it!*

A couple of months ago I was getting my haircut. I mentioned to the stylist that I was going to be 40 and she didn't flinch! I'm used to the, "No you're not!" or "Get outta town!" the latter of which, no one has actually said to me ever, but I like the sound of.

That was the first time turning 40 weirded me out. I've never been one to care about my age, probably because I've never been this old before.

I couldn't figure out what was bothering me. Am I not the person I want to be at 40? I don't know...did I want to be anyone else by now?

I did a little digging into past Thighs.  Per my blog, there were only two things I wanted to do before 40:

1. Pay off my credit card debt. TASK COMPLETE!

2. Have a kid. TASK DELETED.

When I was around 36 I was very much on the baby train. I even considered asking MD to impregnate me and I would be a single mother.  Since then I've clearly changed my mind and I'm glad. I absolutely love babies. I love toddlers. I love all kids until the age of 13 and then I really don't know what to say to them because in a weird way I revert back to 13 around them and worry they'll think I'm a dork. An old dork.

Anyway, not having a kid was the best decision I've ever made. I have too many mental health issues and too many activities. Sleeping is my new favorite hobby and a kid would get in the way of it.

And here's my AHA moment.

My problem with 40 is not that I didn't have a's that I AM NOT A KID.

At 40 I am 100% not a kid anymore. I am an adult. Sure some people would say I was an adult at 35 or 30. Not my 20s because well, read this blog from the beginning.

But at 40?? No denying it now. I'm an adult. BLECH.

On the plus side, you know what's cool about being an adult with no debt and no children?

I'm going to Portugal for my 40th!  I'm visiting my college roommate Blancs for a week. Yay!

And then MD turns 40 in June, so we're going to Hawaii for two weeks in September for a double 40th celebration!


I'm sure I'll have a few more "YIKES!" moments over the next seven weeks, but it'll be fine.

The happy truth is my life gets better and better with every decade.

So come on 40. Let's do this.

*That was a Roger Rabbit quote.

Sunday, January 14

The rest of the week.

I have to remind myself that I am not ALL one thing, ALL the time.  I am anger, I am happiness, I am sadness, I am light, I am dark, I am everything. We all are.

Yes, I have anger issues. Yes, they get worse as shit in the world gets worse. And yes, they get worse when I'm PMSing which I was last week and didn't realize it.

The week ended up being pretty strange because I got shitfaced Tuesday night.  I had a work party and I don't know what I was thinking, but I decided I was going to drink. I believe I had three glasses of wine, four glasses of whiskey, and half a cider.  That's a lot, especially for someone who is "sober".

I had a blast. My current coworkers have never known Party Thighs and it was fun she made an appearance. I miss her. I miss identifying as her. I was in my red-faced, giggly, mega-smile glory. I'm told I'm not really different drunk or sober, but I obviously feel different. That's why I drank so much my whole life. I loved being fucked up.

See that? "Loved" past tense. As much fun as I had bonding with my coworkers, I did NOT have fun after I left the bar.  I was fine when I got on the subway, but I was getting drunker by the second. The trains were delayed, so it took me about an hour to get from downtown to 34th Street which should usually only take 20 minutes. I jumped out and took a cab the rest of the way. When I finally got home I said to MD, "I like getting drunk, I don't like BEING drunk." Then I puked my guts out. 

The next morning MD said he hasn't seem me like that in years. There's no reason for me to get that drunk anymore, even if I'm wired that way. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic I guess. Typically I'd beat myself up for my bad behavior, but I let it go. I paid the price anyway, so why make it worse on myself.  

The hangover plus my PMS just made me completely off all week. I was dehydrated, lethargic, anxious, paranoid, and a bit disassociated. I FINALLY feel like myself again today, five days later.  So dumb.

Despite my binge night and resulting hangover, there were two really nice things that also happened last week.

I took my parents to their first basketball game. It was one of their Christmas presents, the other being tickets to their first hockey game, too.  I love sharing new experiences with people, especially them! When they lived in Jackson they rarely went anywhere. It's actually kind of weird now that I think about it. I know they didn't have much money when Rip and I were kids, but I'm not sure why they didn't do anything after we left. I used to think it was just the curse of suburban living, that you get sucked into your home, and there's nothing to do in your podunk town. Then I met people who live in suburbia and actually seek out fun and culture, so apparently my parents were just hermits. I'm so glad they have grown out of it and doing shit now!

The other nice thing was I ran into Rem at the game, my old work husband from my consulting gig. I know I've written about him in the past, but the blogger search isn't great so I can't find all of the old posts.  I started working at Biz January 2011 and I believe Rem left the firm I was consulting at in the fall of 2012.  That might have been the last time I saw him.

In that short period of time, Rem and I became extremely close.  We were also very attracted to each other. At least I think he was...we did make out once when MD and I were on a break. If I hadn't been in love with MD, I probably would have tried to date Rem, if he'd have me. I felt a deep connection with him from the start. Of course the only problem was most of our relationship was me talking about MD, so that wasn't a great way to convey my admiration and appreciation for Rem.

Over the years I've emailed him to keep in touch, but it never really stuck. The last we spoke he was living in Bay Ridge, which is where my parents live again, so I always hoped we'd run into each other.

Man, when I saw him at the Nets game, I was so friggin happy and warm and fuzzy! I probably would have melted had it not been for my raging hangover from the ridiculousness the night before. No ulterior motive or unrequited love feelings, just pure happiness from finally seeing my old friend. He's married too now and I whole heartedly wish him the best. 

It's strange, usually I'd try to make plans with someone I hadn't seen in a while, but I don't think I can with him. I don't know if we'll ever make a concerted effort to hang out, that maybe the best I can hope for is to run into each other from time to time. I wonder if he feels the same way. 

Shit...I just realized I might have told him about this blog. Shit...are your reading this?  

Well, if you are - Rem, I love you, buddy. I look back at our friendship with that same mega-smile I have when I'm wasted, so you know it meant something to me.  As I type this, MD won't stop talking to me about nonsense and I can't help, but laugh. He's my heart and I know your wife is yours, so we ended up where we should be. I am grateful to know you and so incredibly happy to see you. Thanks for being happy to see me, too.

Monday, January 8


Part of the bad stuff from 2017 is my new opinion of the world. 

I used to be a kind and friendly person. Now I hate everyone, I'm quick to judge, on the attack, and looking for a fight. It's not good.

To be clear I've always been one to stand up for myself and call someone out for their bullshit, so that hasn't changed. That's healthy. This is different.

I'm not sure when this started happening, but all signs point to 2013.  I believe that's when I started having regular altercations with people.  One of the first times was when I got kicked out of the movie Gravity for yelling at a woman who would not stop talking. This is a hilarious statement and the whole situation was pretty funny, but at the time I didn't know what was to come.

The fights got worse the following year, most notably when I made a huge fucking scene fighting with some jerk at Lincoln Center after a Tim Burton film concert. The reason for the fight is moot at this point, but picture me and my big mouth, screaming every curse word in existence at the top of my lungs, and also pushing a 50+ year old woman. In Lincoln Center. Classy.

I can't recall any situation as bad as that one, thankfully.  That was around the time I was off the Zoloft and trying out the shitty Lamictal, the meds that fucked me up most of 2014.  No excuse, but I was in a really bad place.

That was the worst to date (thank you current meds!), but I still run my mouth. Some days I yearn for confrontation. Anyone want to dance? You, who wouldn't move in on the subway? You, who didn't say thank you when I held the door open? You, who talked through the whole play/movie?  I'M READY FOR YOU ASSHOLES.

And that's just my day to day anger. There are whole other levels of fury when it comes to the current administration and his shitdick supporters. The past year and a half has been extremely rough. I want to kill everyone, but I believe in gun control so I can't.

So, why write about this now?  I had a really good therapy session tonight.  We talked about how my anger probably comes from a place of feeling threatened and vulnerable. In reality I am not in any danger, nor am I helpless; I just feel this way.

Honestly, I think the reason is self-preservation. If I think the worst in people, I won't be let down.

I used to think people are inherently good. I used to give people the benefit of the doubt. I used to think that love was everything.  Now I don't. It sucks.

I don't want to be a bitter and mean person. I don't want to think people are horrible.

I also don't want to be disappointed in people either.  And lately, that's what I feel I am, constantly disappointed by small inconsiderate actions affecting my daily life to the larger and more heartbreaking wrongs that don't affect me directly, such as racism, homophobia, or xenophobia.

That's a weird jump, but I wanted to acknowledge that I know most of what sets me off is trivial. I have perspective when I'm calm. Who gives a fuck the bitch with 14 tote bags keeps hitting me with them when there are WAY more serious things to be enraged about? 

My concern is I have turned into someone I don't want to be.  I hate...and I hate that hate.

Rah, my psychiatrist, said I should keep track of my angry thoughts. From 13th Street to home took about 45 minutes. I had five angry thoughts. I meant to write them down as soon as I got home, but I forgot. Here are the two I remember:

1. Train went express, so I had to get out at Queensboro Plaza. I stood by window and a girl sitting inside looked at me weird. Sort of a smirk, but maybe not?  I thought, "Bitch, what do you want?" Then I laughed at myself for being crazy.

2. I got off train and walked from 39th Avenue to 36th Avenue. (The MTA closed my subway stop for the next eight months, which also infuriates me.) The sidewalks aren't completely shoveled, so I took it slow through the slush. I could feel someone pretty close behind me and I thought, "Fucking asshole, just go around me. I'll fuck you up."

The good news - these were only thoughts. The bad news - WHAT IS MY DAMAGE?? 

Why am I so damn sensitive? Why do I think I could beat the shit out of someone?  Why am I so angry goddamit???

Monday, January 1

2017, yo!

Happy New Year! 2017 was great on a personal, inner circle level.  The rundown:

1. Our first year of marriage was...I don't know what word I want, but I have a HUGE smile on my face. Things were the same for the most part, although I do love saying "husband".  There's definitely a new bond between us. Maybe it's the...

OMG. So while I'm smiling and happily thinking of MD, he wakes up and I want to kill him. We've had a fly problem the past two months and couldn't figure out where they were coming from. This morning I realized the super installed a new ceiling light in our bathroom right around the same time. I used the fly swatter to feel around it and found a gap. I'm 100% sure that's where they are coming from. MD was like, "No, I don't think so." and walked away. YES YOU SHOULD THINK SO. Then he changed his mind and agreed with me, so we're fine and I love him again. This is the perfect glimpse into our marriage.  I love him and I want to strangle him.

2. My parents moved back to Brooklyn in 2015 (not sure if I wrote about it since then). I am really enjoying this new chapter in our relationship! I see them at least once a month, usually meeting in the city for dinner or a fun activity. For Christmas I bought them tickets to their first basketball and hockey games. They never really went out in Jackson, so I'm excited they are broadening their horizons and interests.

3. My absolute favorite moment of 2017 was St. Patty's Day with my dad. Last summer his best friend Philly passed away. He got sick pretty quickly and died in July. His funeral was on my dad's birthday. It was so upsetting. I think they were 13 when they met. They were both so excited to see each other more often once my parents moved back to NY.

The only day they did see each other for the past 30 years was St. Patty's Day. My heart broke thinking how upset my dad would be his first year without Philly. I thought we should do something really special for him, so we secretly planned to fly Rippie out and surprise him.

We killed it!! My parents were already at Smith's. I walked in and Rippie waited outside for about 10 minutes. My dad had his back to the door, so Rip walked in behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. I will never forget the way my dad looked at him, turned away, and looked back again and screamed. We all cried. It was perfect and we all had such a great day together.

4. Another great moment - Rippie and Veev just got engaged! I was in Pittsburgh when they called and I sobbed with happiness at a Panera Bread. Honestly the tears really surprised me. This was a deep soul cry. I was overcome with joy and now that I'm thinking about it, pride. I'm so proud of Rippie for opening himself up to love, nurturing that love, and now uniting with his love.

I am a fucking sap in my old age.

5. Travels! As I wrote in my last drunken post, I travelled a lot for work this year. It's exhausting and stressful (more on this later), but it is also cool as hell. Another favorite moment of the year is meeting MD in London. It was ridiculously expensive for him to take the same flight as me, so he flew in the night before. It was so fun to get to the hotel and have him there waiting for me. We're fancy!

6. Food! So much good food! For our anniversary we splurged and went to DelFrisco's. It was an amazingly expensive and delicious meal.

7. Entertainment! I read 96 books this year.  No one thinks graphic novels should count though, so as far as prose books go I read 45. That's a lot!! I also went to 22 plays, 24 movies, and two Mets games.

8. Money! I have a healthy savings, no debt, and my 401K is in good shape again. MD has some debt we're paying off together and we should be completely debt free by the end of the year. Woo hoo!

9. Health! I'm doing well! I had a handful of manic episodes, a few sinus infections, and a couple of back spasms, but it wasn't that bad! And this is coming from a negative and dramatic hypochondriac, so you know it's true!

I guess that's the year in a nutshell! I'm just really enjoying my time home. I didn't even go out last night for New Year's Eve. I did a puzzle all day, wrote in my journal, watched football, and stuffed myself silly with Indian food. MD slept through the ball drop. It was perfect.

Now there's a whole other not-so-perfect parts of 2017 to write about, but I don't think I have it in me right now. To be continued!

Wednesday, December 20

Old Friends and Orgasmic Pees

Hello old friend! This is addressed to you, my blog, and to my inebriation. Hello Thighsighs and Drunken Thighs McGee! It's been a while!

I had a delicious dinner at an Astoria steakhouse called Christos. This was probably my fifth time there and it never disappoints. Neither does the company - Pirate 1 and Pirate 2 (P1 and P2) are wonderful steakmates, Crazy Ass mates, and good mates in general.

So where have I been for 2017?  Actually mostly New York, but a good portion was in Europe. I've been traveling to London and Paris for work almost every month this year. What's that like, you ask?

First, IT'S AMAZING. Honest to gawd, I can't believe it when I say, "I'm working in London and/or Paris for this week." Whenever I tell someone I go to either city I smile to myself in disbelief.

Second, I'm travel beat. I barely took any trips for myself this year because I'm so tired traveling for work. The only personal trips I took were within driving distance - Pittsburgh in January, visited Rolo in New Hampshire in May, spent a week in Seaside Heights with my parents, then took a staycation (!!) the week of Thanksgiving. My last week of vacation starts tomorrow at 5pm. MD and I are heading back to Pittsburgh for Christmas, then Rippie and his girlfriend Veev are spending a few days with us in NY. I miss jet-setting for myself!

Last, I'm work beat. The Europe projects aren't going well and I continuously have new projects added. There is zero support from upper management, so basically it's a stressful shitshow on a daily basis. That said, I am mature and self-aware enough to realize that I am in control of my own stress and have yet to master managing it. It is not a toxic environment like Minnow, it's not a mindfuck like Company. It's just that once again a job does not live up to my high expectations. See, I've grown!

I'm so happy I'm writing. I've been thinking about this for a while. It's funny I decided to post while I'm drunk considering this is an occasional thing nowadays. I "quit" drinking back in 2014, but this year I've slowly started drinking again. Well, not that slow - after the election results in November I took up drinking sort of hard through January, then it's only like once a month. Not like I used to drink of course, but enough to get a buzz and occasionally drunk like tonight. It only takes me about three drinks to feel it now, so I'm not that concerned. I was concerned about drinking over the state of the world. Today I drank because I just felt like it. That's a better reason.  Wine and sangria only. It's the Raisinet mindset; it's healthy because it's made with fruit!

I don't think I have much more to say. The reason my blog has been on my mind is I'd like to write about approaching 40. ACK ACK ACK! Holy dirty fucks! 40!

So hopefully you'll hear from me again soon.

Oh and in case you're wondering, I had one of the top 10 pees of my life before I wrote this.


Wednesday, August 2



  • a strong desire to do or to achieve something, typically requiring determination and hard work.
  • desire and determination to achieve success.

Ambitious people always seemed to be cutthroat, selfish jerk-offs to me.  I never really looked at ambition as a positive trait, grouping it along with materialistic or petty or mean.

So it was pretty funny last night when my psychiatrist Rah said, "Well, you've always been ambitious."


I had a similar reaction a few years ago when a friend said I was confident. Confident?? Me? What the hell are you talking about?  I have low self-esteem, I am vulnerable, I obsess over what people think of me.  That said, most of the time I don't give a fuck, but that's not the same as being it?

I am ambitious.

I am confident.

I can feel my heart fill as I write these words. It's the strangest thing.

How have I gotten this far in life without knowing who or what or how I am?

What else am I missing??

Wednesday, December 28

2016 Year of Death?

I know, I know. It's not over!! Gah!

I'm very sad about Carrie Fisher passing. I love her!! And I think I'm even sadder because I realize now I love her more than I thought I did.  I guess that's how death works. Or is that how life works?

I am curious about 2016 being the "year of celebrity death". Is it possible we are just reaching the age when the stars we love pass? I'm not sure and really, it doesn't help anyone feel better, but I looked at the numbers.

I used Wikipedia to find famous American or British deaths (I'm not very familiar with other countries' celebrities or notable people) of 2005, 2014, and 2016. If I heard of the name, I marked them as "known." My findings are that 2016 was a bad year to be a musician and that I only knew 6 more notable people who passed this year vs. 2014.

Take it for what you will.

Tuesday, December 20


It's dead in my office. DEAD. There's plenty I could be doing, but I'm not doing any of it. I don't know why I have a successful career. I am the worst procrastinator. I am horrible at hitting deadlines, so I make sure I don't have any deadlines. It's sort of ridiculous. I'm sloooooowly cleaning out my inbox. There's 300 emails in there, which is a lot for me. I typically use my inbox as my to do list, so I rarely have more than 50. I am email OCD, but since the wedding I've let it get (relatively) out of hand.

We're off to Pittsburgh Thursday night! I'm excited to see my in-laws. I wish they were local. I'm sort of burnt out from plans and travels, so it would be great if we didn't have to drive so far. Luckily we don't have to go further! Last trip we drove halfway and stayed at a hotel. I like breaking it up a bit. Then we're not exhausted the day we get there. It's really only a six hour drive, but since I can't eat fast food and I pee a lot, it ends up being about a nine hour trip. Oops.

I was going to make this my year end review post, but I think I'll wait. This is my "I'm bored at work and there's no one to IM and even though the internet has LITERALLY millions of things to read I don't feel like reading anything especially because a lot of it will be about Trump and he and his supporters can go fuck themselves so instead I will write about nothing and will challenge myself to make this the longest sentence I have ever written but now that I just wrote that I am bored by the challenge and shall stop" post.

I'm rarely bored. I always find something to keep me occupied. Not today though, apparently.

This is going to be a very long day.

Thursday, November 10

What now?

The past month has been a whirlwind of emotions. The wedding prep, the wedding itself, being married, losing a friend, and now the election.

I can't stop crying. I can never stop crying, but now these are tears for my country.

I am white, I am straight, I am both agnostic and polytheistic (if that makes sense). I am terrified for non-whites, for LGBTQ, for anyone not Christian. I am scared they are going to be more abused than ever now that the president condones hatred, racism, homophobia, Islamophobia, anti-semitism, the list goes on and on.

I am in the upper middle class. I have no problem paying more taxes to help people survive. I am scared that things will get worse for the less fortunate.

As a 38 year old woman, I am worried for my reproductive health and rights. What happens if I get pregnant at 42 while on Klonopin? It's a class D drug, which means there is a high chance of birth defects. While I hope I never have to be faced with the decision to abort, I can't believe I may not have the choice.

For the middle of the country who feels ignored, I do not understand your logic. You supposedly want small government, you want to dismantle welfare programs, you think people should take personal responsibility for their life choices. If you're homeless, get a job! If you're poor, get a better job! If you're a single parent scraping to get by, you shouldn't have had kids! Why aren't you looking into the mirror and saying the same thing to yourself?  Your coal mining job went away, well then, why did you go into that industry?  Why didn't you go to college and get a white collar job?  Not so easy, is it? The reality is, you want the government to help YOU, but no one else.

I do not want to be friends with a Trump supporter. This is beyond regular Republican vs. Democrat ideals. This is giving power to those who will use it for hate, for violence, and for shame. I am not open-minded or tolerant of those who selfishly voted for this man for their own personal gain. You may not identify as a racist or sexist or anything-ist, but you sure as fuck are okay with it and that means I don't want you in my life. Before the internet and social media, I wouldn't befriend you, so why pretend I have to accept you now?

I am at a loss. I don't know what to do, how to help, how to protect the Muslims in my neighborhood, or any of my minority and gay friends. Do I run for office? If this piece of shit can win, maybe a bipolar woman with a sordid past can?  Do I quit my cushy job and work for non-profits? Do I take self-defense courses to ward off the pussy grabbing?  Do I get my tubes tied so I don't have to worry about my reproductive rights? Do I bother trying to change the mind of those who don't share my values? Do I open up my home to people living in fear in red states? How do I handle my relationship with my in-laws who most likely voted for him? How do I go to work in a female-dominated industry, but male-dominated senior management, where all of my white and rich bosses were joking and laughing like nothing happened because to them, nothing did happen? How do I explain to my well-meaning white, straight male friends that posting "The people have spoken." or "Better luck in 2020." or "Stay positive." shows how privileged they are?  How how how??

Last night I got really drunk for the first time in two years. It wasn't the best idea as I feel like shit today and I shouldn't be drinking on my meds at all, but I needed to be fucked up for a bit.

My head is out of the sand, my eyes are open, my life is changed forever. Now I need to figure out what to do with it.

Thursday, October 20

It's My Wedding Day!


It's my wedding day!


I'm on the train to go get my hair done, then go to Spags' apartment to get ready.

This is crazy. It's here so quickly. That was the point, but I can't believe it's October 20th already.

I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. I'm on the verge of tears and a big post-coffee dump.

I just want everyone to have fun. I want to have fun. I want MD to have fun. FUN MOTHERFUCKERS! MOTHER-FUN-KERS!

This is crazy. I'm so excited.

Monday, October 17

Three Days to Monego!

Wootie woot!! In the home stretch now!

The weekend was good. Well, sort of.  On Saturday my mood swings were on overdrive, so that kind of sucked. I was happy, excited, cranky, irritable, overwhelmed, calm, cheerful, sad, and HUNGRY. All I did was eat.

MD and I went to Crazy Ass that night. I looked up at the sky and it was a full moon!! No wonder I felt so off! (Juniper is going to groan reading that sentence.)

Yesterday I felt much better. I walked around all day, watched the Giants pull out a win, and had a lovely dinner date with MD.  We went to the restaurant we ate at the night we got engaged. Fun fact: we got engaged eleven weeks ago. Ha ha!!

I'm working from home today, which is good because I'm moody again. Lots of little things keep popping up - more people are coming, some aren't coming (thank god I don't have assigned seating, that must be a nightmare), questions, and what have you. Nothing crazy, but I feel a bit overwhelmed. I just told Bakes that I'm going to mentally picture myself in catcher's gear, so that I can field all the fastballs, curveballs, and wild pitches flung at me over the next few days.

My to do list is super short:

1. Tonight is dinner with my mom and her best friend who I haven't seen in years.

2. Tomorrow I'm dropping off everything at Houston Hall

3. Clean the apartment because MD's brother, sister, and her boyfriend are staying here while we're at the hotel.

4. Pack for hotel and pack a separate bag for the Wedding Day.

5. Practice make-up because I'm too cheap to hire anyone and the only trial I did made me look like a hooker clown.

6. Try try try to enjoy this week! It'll be over before I know it!

Friday, October 14

Vodka soda splash of cran, hold the vodka.

I don't know the last time I had a drink. I mean, the first last time. The last time I had a drink was Monday at a dinner with my friends who were in town for comic-con and won't be back for the wedding.

I slowed the drinking down a bit in 2014, the year of mental illness hell. In 2015 I believe I had five drinks - two glasses of wine on Christmas, three on New Year's Eve.  This year I've drank more - a glass of wine on Valentine's Day, a couple of glasses of sangria on my birthday, a glass of sangria in California, two glasses of sangria on the day we got engaged, a couple of glasses of wine...obviously there's a pattern. For some reason I believe drinking sangria and wine are okay. They're fruit, right?  I'd say maybe once every couple of months I have a glass, although I have been drinking a bit more the past few weeks to take the edge off.

You know what else takes the edge off? Weed. It's great. I don't smoke often, but I am stoned now and feel mighty fiiiiiine...

My favorite alcoholic drink pre-wino '16 was vodka and soda with a splash of cranberry. Now all I drink is water, coffee, and seltzer with cran.

For the past hour I've tried to get myself off the couch to go get seltzer.  Braless and pajamaed, the odds were pretty low I'd go anywhere. I texted MD to see if he'd leave the bar and bring me some:

          ME: Can you bring me seltzer? I don't want to get up.

         [one minute passes]

          ME: Don't ignore me.

          MD: Haha! No!

          ME: Now I gotta put a bra and pants on. Thanks Obama!

          [one minute passes]

          ME: I'll give you a hundred dollars.

          MD: NO.

          [two minutes pass]

          ME: Can you bring me seltzer?

I FINALLY put on some jeans (no bra) and went to the store. I bought two 20 oz plastic bottles.

I kid you not, it took me 7 minutes to open one of those suckers. I twisted and twisted until my hand stung. I was going to use my teeth and thought, "I'm getting married, I don't want to crack any!" Then I used a knife and thought, "I'm getting married, I can't cut myself!" Then I tried tongs, but there was no grip. I twisted again and still couldn't open either of them.

So then I used my teeth...

and I'm fine. Nothing happened. Cap came right off.

My drink has sat on the table for the 20 or so minutes I've been writing. I forgot all about it.


Six Days to Monego!

I picked up my dress Wednesday night and had a little meltdown. The back looked really baggy for some reason. I brought it home anyway because I didn't want to deal with another round of alterations this close to the wedding.

I cried to my parents and they were amazing. They came right over yesterday morning (I worked from home) and fixed it. Apparently one of my EIGHT layers of tulle was bunched up inside, so now it looks perfect.

Four of those layers were of this big puffy slip I was pressured into buying. I totally fell for the upsell. I already ditched the corset because THEY ARE AWFUL and now I ditched the slip, too!! I feel SO much better with none of that shit underneath. Unfortunately my gut sticks out now, but I like to think of it as "a pot" a la this scene in Pulp Fiction:

Last night Juniper helped me put the favors together. They're perfect! I won't say what they are in case anyone still reads this shiz.

Today after lunch I went to Century 21 to buy some pearl earrings. I'm not really a pearl girl - necklaces maybe, snootch - but the hairclip I bought has some pearl in it, so I thought it might look nice.

I totally had a mini-anxiety attack. I'm on so many meds now that I don't usually go full blown. ACK ACK ACK ACK. I'm getting married in six days! ACK!

MD has stayed out late every night this week and probably will next week, too. I'm trying not to take it as a personal blow off, but really dude?  He's only been going out twice a week for months, but ever since we got engaged he's been out all of the time.  I know that's his way of blowing off steam and stress, but I'm annoyed. Blerg.

I don't have any plans this weekend and I can't tell if this is a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe having too much time on my hands will make me go mental. Maybe I should go drinking with Cuba Gooding Jr. until 3am one night. (That was MD's Wednesday, not kidding.) Maybe I should be wasted from now until Thursday! Fuck it, I'll be wasted from now until eternity!! E-TER-NI-TY.

BLAH. (I just said that out loud while sitting in my open-floor plan cubicle. Oops.)

Wednesday, October 12

Kicking Ass and Taking Names

Before we got engaged I referred to us as "The Monegos", which comes from combining both of our real last names. I started using that on our Christmas cards once we moved in together.

When we got engaged I decided to stay Thighs McGee rather than changing my name to Thighs Donkey. Who is this Thighs Donkey chick? What is she like? What is her deal?  Am I still me? If I am still me, why change my name?

It was only this past Sunday when I had a change of heart. All of a sudden I liked the idea of being "The Donkeys". I felt like I wanted to be a family with one name, but at the same time I still don't know if I want to be Thighs Donkey. I guess I could still call us "The Donkeys", but that might get confusing. "The Monegos" are confusing too though. UGH. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.

Thankfully I don't have to make this major decision now. Yes, changing my name is a way bigger decision than marrying MD.

I've spent almost 40 years trying to figure out who Thighs McGee is, 10 of those years I've shared on this blog. Why the fuck would I change my identity now? Would I have to spend another 40 years figuring out who Thighs Donkey is??

We got our marriage license on September 6th, our SIX YEAR meetiversary. I signed it McGee, so it's too late to change it now. I'm glad because I have a feeling I will regret it. 

It's a shame women change their name right away, unless they are absolutely sure they want to change it. Stress and emotions are so high right now that I seriously can't imagine making that lifelong decision and dealing with all of the paperwork that goes with it.

So instead I got three names - Thighs McGee, The Donkeys when we're with his family, and The Monegos as our return address name.

Done and done.

MD's Surprise Visit 2012

I did write about it.

Eight Days to Monego!

You know the hardest part about getting married?

It's not MD's nerves (and boy, is he nervous). It's not my nerves or mania (well, more on that later). It's not the commitment, although strangely enough I'm having dreams where I'm hooking up with randos. It's not the planning or the money or any of the normal stuff.

No, for me, the hardest part about getting married is the love.

I've never felt this loved in my entire life.

I fell in love with MD pretty quickly. It took him about a year later to fall in love with me. I'm not exactly sure when I was fully able to accept his love.  I think it might have been December 2012. I probably wrote about it. We broke up "FOR GOOD" on Election Day. Stuff happened, then one day right before Christmas I left my apartment to buy Rippie a gift. MD was standing at my door. He missed his flight and couldn't get another one until the next day. When he left the airport, all he could think about was me, so he came right over. It is the only time he's ever surprised me.

We didn't officially get back together that night because he still was dragging his feet on his divorce, but I think it was then that I realized how much he loved me and truly accepted it.

This summer I came to terms with the fact that my parents love me.

And now, with 130 people coming to my wedding and 50 others who wish they could be there, and the amazing well wishes from people I didn't invite, I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that my friends love me, too.

Isn't it ridiculous I am unaware of this?  I mean, I love my friends more than anything. Of course they love me back! It's just that I never really consciously thought about it.


Holy shit.

What is this life???

Tuesday, October 11

Nine days to Monego!


Our big day is October 20th. We're going to City Hall with our families around 1pm, having lunch at Spring Street Natural after, then heading to Houston Hall for a reception at 6pm.  


I mean, I'M GETTING MARRIED. I never thought I'd get married. Well, I WANTED to, but I never thought I'd find love. I never thought MD and I would get our shit together. I never thought MD would ask. It's amazing and scary and exciting and nauseating.

MD finally came around a few months ago. He asked my dad for my hand on July 26th. The anticipation of him asking me drove me nuts, so on July 31st we argued and he proposed to shut me up. How romantic.

Actually it was perfect. I came home from brunch and the movies. MD was supposed to talk to his family about when they could come for our wedding, but he didn't. I was like what the hell you were supposed to talk to them blah blah blah. He kept saying, "Well I wanted to talk to you first." I was like, talk to me about what blah blah blah.

Then he said, "HOLD ON." and came back with a box. Oh shit!! I cried, he cried, and he got down on one knee and asked me to marry him. It was classic us.

Now he doesn't remember saying this, but he 100% said, "Let's get married before the end of the year because I don't want this over my head next year."  Again, romantic.

August and September were too soon, November weekends were bad because of the NYC marathon (not that we're running - HAHAHAHA - but it would be a shit show for people to travel), the election (which I don't know if we'll feel like celebrating), then we're in Italy for two weeks. December was too holiday-y, so that left October.

By August 4th we had visited and booked Houston Hall for Thursday the 20th. I love, love, LOVE HH. It's a beautiful space and I can't wait to party there.

August 19th I bought a dress.

August 25th we went to Pittsburgh and I had a Sister Day with MD's sister and sister-in-law. Now I have two sisters! (Three if you count Rippie's girlfriend!)

Mid-September I had two wonderful bridal showers with family and friends.

There's been lots of stuff in between that I can't remember, which is why I'm writing about the next nine days. I don't want to forget any of this!!


Wednesday, December 30

2015, yo!

I'm so excited to be writing right now. Maybe I said this in my last post over a year ago? Probably not because last year was a mindfuck. Thankfully 2015 was a good year. Was it odd years that are good and even years that are bad? Whatever. This was a good odd year.

The rundown:

1. Last September I hurt my back pretty bad. I wasn't able to sleep or sit or stand or do anything. I would never, ever, EVER wish back pain on anyone. It totally fucked me up physically, emotionally, mentally, everything-ally. After chiropractor visits, physical therapy, and a steroid shot to the sacro-iliac, I finally felt better in January. It occasionally hurts if I lift something too heavy or sit for too long, but it is nothing like it was last year.

Thank you 2015 for being back pain free!

2. The same time my back went out, my brain went out, too. I was emotionally destroyed with panic attacks, depression, anxiety, the works. Lamictal did not work for me at all. I came off of it, stayed on Risperdal, went back on Zoloft, and started taking Klonopin last November. This regimen seems to be really working for me. I probably only had three rageful outbursts and four or five depressive episodes, which is pretty good for me. The manic episodes are a bit more often, but I kind of like being manic, so I'm okay with this. 

What does being manic mean?  Basically that I want to do everything and anything I can at THIS VERY MOMENT. The sense of urgency is urgently urgent. The best way to describe it is the exact moment you're about to sprint, when your whole body leans forward and your heart leaps and you are focused on running, except you don't actually go anywhere. I had this feeling a couple of days ago and MY WORD it is hard to pull back. I wanted to run and run as fast possible. I'll take this feeling over depression any day.

3. With all this figurative running, I decided to join a gym and start literally running again. I've gone a few times. It's been okay. I don't feel fantastic after leaving the gym like others do. In a weird way, I feel like I just got punished. You'd think working out would increase my endorphins, but it doesn't seem to, maybe because I'm on so many meds. It actually makes me feel sad. Weird, right? 

4. GET THIS. I quit drinking. My psychiatrist (I have to check if I have a nickname for him) told me not to drink on Klonopin and I actually listened. I had half a glass of sangria and two glasses of wine in the past 15 months. I'm pretty proud of myself!

This was a HUGE adjustment for MD and I. If you've read Thighs from the beginning of our relationship, you know that I was a drunk stalker. All we did was get bombed and bang, then I wouldn't hear from him, I'd cry and track him down, we'd end up dating, he wouldn't finalize his divorce, we'd break up, I'd cry and track him down, we'd get bombed, repeat. When he got divorced and we stopped breaking up, we still got bombed and banged. Our relationship was based on a shared interest in partying. Once I stopped drinking, we didn't really have much in common. I'm laughing right now because it just occurred to me we still don't have much in common, but thankfully we made it through my sobriety. Or I'm making it through his drunkenness? He's actually cut back a lot, but there are times when I want to slap him sober. I'm laughing again. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

5. In case you're wondering, I'm at work. There's no one here. Seriously, out of the 27 people in my department, I'm the only one. I took off last week and everyone else took off this week. I didn't really need to come into the office today, but I'll probably work from home tomorrow so I thought I should come in. I really like my boss Tank and I thought he'd appreciate me being here.

Did you read that?? I LIKE MY BOSS. Whaaaa??  I've been here (again need to check if I have a nickname for this place) for two and a half years. I might actually make it three years somewhere!! It's a good job, I'm paid well, I have great benefits, I like my coworkers, I like what I do. I still have my problems with authority and mismanagement and spinning my wheels on projects, but it seems a bit easier to deal with. Yay mental meds!!

6. Life in general just seems easier this year. I went on a few trips, saw a lot of friends, plays, movies. I love living with MD even when he's annoying me. My family's doing great, in fact they'll be in Queens tonight to drop Rippie off for his flight back to LA in the morning. I've read 43 books, which I probably haven't done since high school. The Mets were in the World Series, but unfortunately lost. Star Wars Episode VII was amazing. My psychiatrist told me it's okay to talk to spirits and visualize group meditations on other realms. (Don't ask. Maybe I'll talk about it one day.) I did some puzzles. I cleaned out some closets. I saved over $10K and paid off $25K debt. I only have $1800 in credit card debt now. I mentioned joining the gym. I donated to a few charities and bought a bunch of Christmas gifts for kids in need. My aunt had cancerous cells, but they successfully removed them from her lungs and she's okay now. I stopped getting into internet comment wars with people who I will never agree with and who will never agree with me. I decided I'm voting for Bernie Sanders even though I don't think he'll win the primaries. What else...

I think that's it! 2015 was a great year. It makes me so happy to say it and mean it. I'm usually so negative, but I feel good. Happy New Year, yo!