From Yale to Jail

A thirty something Ivy Leaguer keeps the public aware of her opinions on things topical and struggles with multiple demons: alcohol, the law and remaining effortlessly hip in a changing world.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Ho Ho, Hi Ho, off to recovery I go...

At the behest of my psychiatrist I went back to AA today. I have not been to a meeting in months. I bought myself some oversized Prada sunglasses and a few scarves on the way. Putting Humpty Dumpty together again could get expensive.

Friday, June 17, 2005

How Many Handbags Did Diana Prince Go Through?

Ah, to be so flat chested! Posted by Hello

My guess is that she never carried Italian leathergoods, or she would not have been tossing them behind dumpsters like she did. My Miu Miu's and Prada's are UNFLINGABLE. Did she have multiple copies of her driver's license? She must have had to replace her credit cards as often as I do. She had to do it in the name of crime fighting. I lose mine every two weeks or so on drunken binges. Those people in India who are doing all the customer service now expect my call..I was in the hospital recently and thought they "Jimmy" Kumar or one of my other regular agents might be worried.

Wednesday, June 15, 2005

I feel as Patriotic as Air Force Amy!

You should too! Show everyone how much of a stiffy you have for your country and buy one of these: . Heck, buy a few.

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

Toss Me Into Shallow Water

My dear friends, I have been in the HOME. I am well rested and focused. More later.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Please don't tell me I'm the only one...

A bulletproof and unbreakable heart. Its what I always wanted as I sobbed my way through my teens and twenties. I loved so hard it hurt. So many men. They never saw how much I hurt. I thought if they saw, they would change. But people change because of their own pain not yours. I am thinking about this because I am considering starting a new type of therapy. With a shrink. To get me off these pills. Not "bad" pills, unless you are Tom Cruise. These are pills that were supposed to save me. From myself. From Mr. Goodbar. Maybe they did. But they have taken so much too. I want to hurt again. I want joy, I want despair. I want to want sex with my husband. I want to want sex with anyone. I do but only when I dream. I chase men. I chase Ali Macgraw's ex husband. We had a film noir romance last week. It was in black and white. I normally dream in color. The doc says it will take a year to get me off my antidepressant, antimanic, antipsychotic and antianxiety medication regimen. Untiil then I am not eligible to participate in his group therapy. I laughed. I guess I would be too toxic to his other patients, being on drugs!!! He is expensive but might give me my life back. Or I mean, I want to take it back. "Be proactive. Wa wa wa" Not asleep. Booze made me spend my days in a fog. Now pills make me sleep all day. Is this oblivion just a substitute, do I only get substitutes for my addictions, my fixes. These pills dont make me happy, no joy. Just manageability. For me, for my husband. He gets to go to work a bit calmer knowing I probably won't get into too much trouble. Maybe he is happier. All I wanna do is have some fun...