97 Days and counting….

Sorry to the five people who read my blog (one of them being my grandma).

I have been lazy and haven’t written as of late.

I mean I have been really busy. Definitely not lazy. Squirrel. But anyways…I assure you I am still sober and still counting my days. One day at a mother fucking time.

Kate and I took a trip to Illinois to visit her family. Yes, a trip to visit the in-laws. Really? I have already been through many obstacles in my sobriety (client meetings, weddings, birthdays, weekends, days ending in day) and now I am willingly traveling to the Midwest to visit her whole extended family? Without booze? I am truly masochistic.

Let me break it down.

Kate is one of five children. Five Children! Dear Lord Baby Jesus that right there is already about the same amount of people on my dad’s side of the family. I have trouble remembering my own name on most days let alone the 100+ people and children that populate her family tree. There are so many people in her family from aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, parents, second cousins, in laws etc etc.

Let me remind you I was an only child until I was 20. I have an eight year old brother now but that’s about it. (Granted my family is small but we make up for it in our loud, obnoxious and overly bearing personalities). But regardless my family is quite small especially in comparison to Kate’s.

To make a long story short I had 25 minor panic attacks but no alcohol. All in all it was a great trip and we had a great time and I only wanted to drink every single day. Ha. Just kidding, only every other day.  Actually to be honest it’s getting easier to not drink. I still have my days but it’s getting easier to disassociate alcohol with every aspect of my life.

And now I will leave you with some pictures because I am vain and like looking at myself…

stay sober my friends.



kates sisters house.

beanies and scarves!

beanies and scarves!

kates sisters.

kates sisters.

the bean.

the bean.





on our way into the city.

on our way into the city.


78 days…

I know I promised a detailed account of Santa Barbara and I know you all have just been waiting patiently (not waiting at all) for me to post it but I have been so damn lazy and at this point my mind is a bit blurry (and for once not from drinking) on the ins and outs of all that went down. So I’m sorry. Long story short I didn’t drink. Annnnd (drum roll please) it was still fun. The end.

Now that we got that out of the way…

In a previous post I detailed how, to me, football is synonymous with drinking beer. Upon further investigation I have come to the realization that life is synonymous with drinking beer. I guess I didn’t realize how much the two overlapped until I found myself not drinking at all.

I shall elaborate on that overlapping of drinking and life and other rants and ramblings now… (I’m trying really hard to stay on topic and task)…

Going over to a friends house for a get together? What do people bring? Food and alcohol.

Is happy hour ever just a happy hour without alcohol? No. The entire premise behind happy hour is an hour (or three) where there are drink (and fine just so the alcoholics don’t truly look like alcoholics appetizer) specials. (Who really enjoys greasy bar food without alcohol?)

When people suggest getting together what do they suggest? Drinks and dinner. Or Dinner and Drinks. The two seem to go hand in hand.

Weekend brunches the waitress asks if would you like something to drink other than water? And then proceeds to describe the endless mimosa specials or award winning Bloody Mary bars. (OK so maybe breakfast at a bar isn’t the best idea…I’m so funny…)

Had a rough day? You need a drink.

Had a good day? You need a drink.

Got through the day? You need a drink.

Closed a deal? Lost a deal? Got promoted? Got Fired?  Your team won? Your team lost? Here’s a drink.

Graduations. Birthdays. Weddings. Bar Mitzvahs (I’m not even Jewish). It’s time to celebrate….with drinks. Obviously.

Everywhere I look: “I see dead people.” No, that would be so creepy. (And hopefully you got that movie reference because if you didn’t then you are probably thinking what the fuck.)

But anyways, everywhere I look I see alcohol!

Ok. Ok. Fine. Maybe I truly am an alcoholic if booze is all I can see. You could even say I have constant beer goggles. And not in the case where it makes women prettier but in a way where all I see is beer and booze. Everywhere. All the fucking time. (Whereas my girlfriend sees boobs, I see beer.)

I am more and more resolved to the fact that our society is based heavily around that magical elixir.

Now either: A. I am truly an alcoholic. B. Alcohol is everywhere. C. Alcohol is all I see now that I don’t partake. Or. D. All of the above.

When I was in college we had drinking days and nights like “wine Wednesday, taco Tuesday” etc. As I got older and into the working world I would go to those same bars and celebrate taco Tuesday but then realize I was the oldest person there. I would opt for earlier happy hours where people my age were out celebrating these same days but at an earlier hour as we all had to be to work the next day. However, as I got even older I realized I needed a new reason to drink.

Here was my reasoning. (Again, I didn’t drink everyday but if I did have a drink this would be the justification behind it)…

Mondays – It’s Monday.

Tuesday – It’s like Monday.

Wednesday – You’ve made it to the middle of the week!

Thursdays – It’s almost Friday.

Fridays – It’s Friday! Cheers to the freakin weekend.

Saturdays – Cheers to it still being the freakin weekend. College Football. Sunshine. Day off. No responsibilities.

Sundays – Football. Brunch. Day off. Tomorrow is Monday.

Alcohol, even if it wasn’t part of my day to day life, was still synonymous with my life. Through celebrations, days of the week, accomplishments, days off, get togethers, weddings, birthdays — alcohol was a huge part of everything. In essence, I am finding that everything is alcohol related because we (or I) make it as such.

Can I get an AMEN? (I’m not even religious but it sounded fitting).

I have been struggling recently with this and my own sobriety (as you can see all I see is alcohol) and its making me think that we rely so much on alcohol in every situation. Sometimes I wish I was trying to stop heroin because then at least it wouldn’t be in my face all the time. (OK I don’t REALLY wish that. Maybe just crack).

78 days.

stay sober my friends.



60 + 7 days.

Haven’t killed anyone.

Haven’t had a mental breakdown.

Haven’t drank.

Still sober.

60 + days.

I did go get my 60 day chip. Its shiny and pretty and I like shiny things.

Life has been a little hectic hence my lack of posts. I have started about 5 new posts but my ADD has been …Look something shiny!

60 day chip

60 day chip

stay sober my friends.

Ventura (Half Marathon).

This past weekend (and a few days into the week) Kate and I went on a mini-vacation. Kate has been training 15 weeks for the Ventura Marathon and we decided to make a little trip out of it and go to Santa Barbara after her race. We drove up the coast from San Diego to Ventura and then to Santa Barbara and stayed there until Tuesday. (I was originally planning to run the marathon with her but I hurt my foot after a long run in the first few weeks of training. I decided to not get discouraged and have my own marathon instead. However, my training consisted of watching endless amounts of TV and my couch and no exercise of any sort and instead of rewarding myself upon completion with a medal I was rewarded upon completion of a new TV series with candy).

**This post details the Ventura portion of our trip as, upon writing it all out, I realized it could be an e-book in itself and I should probably break it up into two separate posts. I will detail Santa Barbara later on this week or next. So enjoy reading. Or don’t. I really won’t know the difference.

But anyways, we drove up Saturday and we were excited and I made a road trip playlist and we got coffee and gas and left relatively early and were on the road! Just driving up the coast with nothing but the road ahead of us. Nothing but the road and a bazillion cars. Traffic. We weren’t even out of San Diego and we were already in traffic. Traffic was in fact a mother fucker. THE WHOLE WAY. I lived in LA for 3 years. I drive in traffic everyday to and from work. I should be used to it. Right? Wrong. I immediately get some sort of tourette’s syndrome in traffic that is characterized by uncontrollable bouts of cursing and twitching. I want to kill everyone and hit my head against the steering wheel repeatedly. I used to smoke and would chain smoke in traffic but now nothing. This particular situation (traffic) wasn’t a trigger and didn’t illicit me wanting or craving a beer right that second because, well, drinking and driving isn’t politically correct or legal or whatever the rules are. However, after being in a car for 5 1/2 hours, what is the first thing I wanted to do (besides pee)? Have an ice cold beer. But lo and behold fellow drunks or friends or sober readers or people who randomly found my blog through typing in the keyword “my girlfriend is taller than me” wtf?? — I did not have a beer.

Anyways, instead of killing myself or other drivers or having a beer we went to the Ventura Pier to pick up Kate’s race bib and get free running stuff and all that jazz. I then decided I wanted to run too. (I couldn’t just have this race be all about her, obviously, I am far too selfish for that. I wanted to run too. And hey, why not? I’ve run a half marathon before).

Let me elaborate: I am not a runner. I don’t claim to be. I actually have always hated running (one of the reasons I played softball and tennis over soccer and cross country). I run simply because it’s free therapy, it’s good exercise and it doesn’t cost a penny to do. When I met Kate over a year ago I was training for a half marathon (my first and only). She’s really into running and has a blog chronicling her running and marathons (socalrunnergal) and speaks runner jargon that I have to Google. I also run because any run over 5 miles warrants drinking a beer afterwards. A beer has always been my light at the end of the why-the-fuck-am-I-doing-this tunnel.

Saturday night we walked around downtown Ventura which was super cute and quaint and decided we would get sushi as our pre-race meal. Carbs and fish what could be better? We settled on this little sushi place on the main strip and sat outside to people watch. Sushi and Sapporo? Nope. Sushi and a Diet Coke. We ordered our rolls and we ate. And ate. Upon finishing I realized we were one of three people in the restaurant. I am a big fan of the internet and reading reviews and I realized then that I had not read anything on this restaurant before deciding on it. (Note to self: do not read reviews of restaurant AFTER eating). It had 1/5 stars on yelp. Kate then stated how one of her rolls wasn’t great and tasted bad. Our minds quickly went from satisfaction in our bellies being full of delicious food to food poisoning. We would definitely be throwing up in the next few hours. We mentally had to convince ourselves that the food was not bad and that Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (not alcohol) would be a way to counter the bad food and allow us to be poison free. It worked. Two scoops of ice cream and I was golden. (This is another addiction I have acquired. Ice cream and frozen yogurt after a meal. Any meal. Even breakfast. And sometimes substitute it as a meal. Hi my name is Brittany and I am an Ice-Cream-aholic. I can already picture the dreary dim lit Ice-Cream-aholic’s Anonymous room I will find myself in soon).

But anyways (have I mentioned it is really hard to concentrate and stay on task with ADD?) Sunday we both get up at 5:00 am (and being the amazing girlfriend I am I went to Starbucks and got us both coffee) and we were both nervous about our races. Kate would start at 6:20 and I would start at 7:00. She was off and we said our goodbyes and good lucks. Shortly after she left I walked over to the Ventura pier and lined up with all the other half-marathoners at the start line. I quickly realized, fuck. (If fuck is a realization). But fuck, I haven’t run more than 6 miles in two months. In fact, the last time I attempted to run a long run I got injured and could barely walk on my foot. But luckily after the injury I had an ice cold … fuck. Why am I doing this? And we are off…

I cruise through with sub-nine minute miles (runner jargon I learned which means less than nine-minutes per mile) for seven straight miles. I was happy, feeling a runners high even, and like I could run a mother fucking marathon. Psssh. Kate trained 15 weeks. I trained less than 15 minutes. Who needs to train for this? I got this. And then mile 10 happened. It was a tiny race so there was no crowd support and the course was painfully boring and I am painfully ADD and I had no shiny objects to look at or to distract me. Everything started hurting. I will not walk. I will not walk. I WILL NOT WALK. So I start walking. Bad idea. My legs didn’t want to move. I literally fought with myself and the last two miles (of 13.1) between a crawl, hobble, walk and jog.

Well I finished and no wheel chair was necessary to cart me across the finish (although one would have been nice). I was on pace to run under 2 hours but my legs had other plans and I ended up crossing at 2:06. I waited for Kate to be done with her marathon and I cheered her on (and tried to jump up and down when she was passing me but failed) and was so proud of her. It was hot. And boring. And everyone had an awful race and she claims she did too but she ran 8 something minute miles and that’s just crazy.

We jumped in the ocean, ate animal crackers, watermelon, fruit, bagels, red vines and everything else in sight.

We met up with her friend who had run the marathon as well. She was drinking a Saint Archer blonde. Crisp. Cold. Light. Her husband offered us both a beer and I painfully declined. Her friend told us that the only thing she craves after running is a beer. Really??!! I just ran 13.1 miles. I am hot. I am tired. I am parched. I am weak. And coincidentally that is the same thing I crave after every run and especially one I did not train for and which kicked my ass and I’m currently being offered a beer? And not just a boring light beer but a good beer? Is this a sick joke? I am for sure being punked.

But I was not. And I did not have one. I instead opted for crack. Otherwise known as Diet Dr. Pepper.

52 days. 

stay sober my friends. 

before the race.






Are you ready for some football? I am! Wait, sober? Fuck.

To me, football is synonymous with drinking beer.

It’s not even synonymous with expensive beer. Or craft beer. It actually reminds me of Bud Light, Miller Light and Coors Light. Classy right? I mean it also reminds me of blackouts and keg stands but anyways….

I woke up this past Saturday morning (relatively early) and as I was getting out of bed I realized what glorious day it was. Not only was it Saturday (of a 3-day weekend) it was the first day my #7-ranked UCLA Bruins would begin playing their college football season. I mean who needs Christmas?!

(I realize I may have already lost some of you who don’t like/watch sports but don’t worry I am not offended as when I jumped for joy at the mere thought of watching a bunch of college boys tackle each other in spandex Kate begrudgingly shook her head, said a few cuss words and damned the football Gods proclaiming “and I no longer have a girlfriend.” You see she lacks enthusiasm for any sport that is not called running. Sometimes I like to torture her and say that running is not a sport but rather an action like throwing, walking, jumping, catching, hitting and so on).

As I was walking across the street to the liquor store (yes we literally live right across the street from a liquor store) to get my new drug of choice (Diet Dr Pepper) I literally thought to myself despite all the enthusiasm for the upcoming game — Shit. It’s football season.

Am I going to be able to do this sober?

As I said before, football (or any sport for that matter) is synonymous with drinking. It’s no secret that the biggest sponsors of sports and those who advertise synonymously with sporting events are alcohol related companies. (And then you have the outliers like Doritos which pairs so nicely with what? Well, nothing, but if you have to pick something to pair it with its probably beer).

This is definitely going to be a tough season (especially after watching the way my Bruins played in their first game and knowing that the Chargers have, on multiple occasions, driven me to drink with their inconsistency).

One weekend down for football season — sober.

45 days — total.

Stay sober my friends.

(And go Bruins and Chargers).

Sobriety Doesn’t Define Me. Right?

I realize that this blog is about me getting sober and a documentation of the triumphs and trials of that process, however, I don’t want to be defined just as that one (smoking hot, smart, funny) sober lesbian. I am so much more than that. In addition to being that one (smoking hot, smart, funny) sober lesbian I also enjoy watching and playing sports, the beach, long walks on the beach, reading and candy. To be specific Mexican candy. I also love animals (my girlfriend and I have 3) and if it were up to me I would adopt every animal that needed a home. Maybe instead of seeing me on Intervention you’ll see me on Animal Hoarders! A girl can dream…

Anyways, I suppose that as more time passes this blog will be less about me getting sober and more about me living sober. Perhaps it will even talk about the wonderful adventures and things I do soberly (probably things I have done before but don’t remember because I wasn’t sober) and the healthy lifestyle I live. Perhaps I’ll run a marathon or become a Yogi or have 5 more animals. However, as of right now, I have quit drinking but also have quit going to the gym and eating healthy. I’m keeping those both on my to-do list but right now my top priority is not drinking (and blogging about it too). So the whole healthy living thing is, as of right now, on pause.

(Side note: Kate says healthy living doesn’t have to put on pause — obviously she’s worried I am going to get fat — but think of all the calories I’m not consuming by not drinking! However, the more I think about it, I guess if I consume more calories now in food, more than when I was drinking, it doesn’t really count as cutting back on calories. Shit. Look! A squirrel!)

But back to sobriety not defining me. I realize that as of right now since it’s all that I am writing about that it does seem to define me. I hope that eventually it will just be another part of who I am but not a defining characteristic. Being in a relationship with a woman does not define my character or even begin to tell the story of who I am. Not drinking is the same. To be honest, I don’t really know what defines me. I don’t think my sexual orientation, religion, or occupation begin to define me but if they don’t then what does? My beliefs? Morals? Values? I don’t know. It’s a tough question to ask one to define them self if you ask me. I do hope that in my sobriety I will peel off more layers of myself (perhaps ones previously masked by alcohol) and begin to unveil more and more of what constitutes me.

How do you define yourself? What defines you?

In other news unrelated to how I define myself, my dad and step-mom came into town again this past weekend and stole our house. We (very nicely) let them take our room and we crashed on the futon in the spare room. If my family is really good at one thing it is definitely being loud and obnoxious shortly thereafter followed by eating. We did not disappoint on either account. I literally gained five pounds. Literally. Kate claims IF I allegedly gained any weight it all went to my boobs but she has to say shit like that because she’s my girlfriend. Remind me to never ask her if anything makes me look fat.

Anyways we ate. And ate. And napped. And ate. And after that ate some more. After dinner and dessert with some more members of my family on Sunday Kate and I decided to be productive and take online quizzes at home. Very important life changing quizzes like: what rock band are you (Kate got The Beatles, I got The Rolling Stones), what is your spirit animal (Kate got an owl, I got a wolf) and what Disney couple are you (Aladdin and Jasmine).

However, the best one we took was “How Many Children Should You Have?” Kate went first and the highly technical test told her she should have…. a cat. I, on the other hand, got eleven. This answer caused Kate to begin reevaluating her life and verbalizing that reevaluation (in bed at 11:00 pm when I was trying to sleep) but I tried my best to convince her that an online quiz (one which asks you in depth questions like “what color do you prefer” etc.) probably isn’t the greatest indicator of how you should live your life. But, only time will tell if my spirit animal is truly a wolf and if Kate should truly just have a cat (although she has yet to clean out Ringo’s litter box so god help the poor cat she gets).

But in all seriousness Kate is such a trooper when it comes to my family. My family is overbearing and loud and in your face and very involved and tries to be even more involved and since I am an only child my parents are obsessed with me. My family as a whole is very much in each others business. Mind you Kate lives 2,000 miles away from her family and has for 5 years so this has to be a bit of an adjustment.

My dad made a joke about this:

What’s the difference between Outlaws and In-Laws?

Outlaws are wanted.

Ain’t that the truth.

38 days.

stay sober my friends.


Wang's in North Park

a family feast at Wang’s in North Park

Kate and Brittany

playing tourists down by the San Diego harbor


30 days.

Yes I am still alive.

Yes I am still sober.

30+ days and counting.

I have lacked in writing because, well, I have been busy with work and traveling for work and getting lost on BuzzFeed and sleeping (one of my favorite pastimes) and cleaning up after all three animals (and my girlfriend who refuses to hang up her towel after showering which makes me wonder daily how she must think the towel gets hung back up. By itself? Perhaps it just magically takes a magic towel ride to the towel rack?).

Anyways, as you can see my life is super glamorous and busy and as a result I haven’t found had time to write. But I assure you I am still on the wagon.

Side note: You may want to buy stock in Coca Cola as my consumption of their products has quadrupled. And you may want to drop your stock in Fireball, Karl Strauss (and all beer for that matter) and Ketel One. Those brands have for sure seen a decline in sales.

In other news I went on a work trip to San Francisco for a client meeting and endured 3+ hours of dinner and drinks with co-workers and the clients — wait for it — completely sober. (Ok maybe I was highly caffeinated on all the Diet Coke’s I had). The next day we had meetings all day and I managed to again not be tempted or give in to that craft beer that was mocking me at the airport. (I instead ate too much crappy airport Asian food. Never again.)

Kate and I also attended my Aunt’s wedding and despite the open bar (and being surrounded by some crazy family members) I opted for a delicious Ginger Ale on the rocks with a lime. Who am I? I don’t even know myself anymore.

Stay sober my friends.

Ginger Ale

our delicious wedding drinks.

Kate and Brittany

kate and i at my aunts wedding. kate decided to be tall in high heels. she already likes to point out that she is an inch taller than me so this was just cruel. ❤

Room with a view

sf room with a view of the bay and coit tower.

What makes you a Real Alcoholic?

**Warning: the contents of  this post are not as funny as previous posts. It’s not that I have lost my humor it’s that at times (very rarely) I can be serious and as I was highly caffeinated over the weekend I started to think serious things. Not to worry shortly after writing this post I made some sort of 14-year old immature boy joke which made Kate roll her eyes and proclaim as she does a lot (which is kind of alarming) “Who am I dating?”

As I mentioned in a previous post everyone’s rock bottom is different.  It doesn’t make yours more or less of a rock bottom than mine. It doesn’t make yours better. It doesn’t make yours worse. It makes it yours.

Recently in AA a newly sober man voiced how he finds himself struggling with whether or not he has a problem with alcohol or if he is REALLY an alcoholic based on what he hears that other alcoholics have done in the past. He heard about a man who knew he had to quit drinking when he got arrested twice in one week and lost his job over it. This recently sober man was battling internally trying to rationalize with himself something like: “I’ve never been arrested twice in one week or lost a job over alcohol so maybe I don’t have a problem. I’m not as bad as him.” (Shortly thereafter he proceeded to tell us that he has gotten FOUR DUIs and lost a partner over it and has been arrested and he has to keep reminding himself of those “minor” details). And I thought: I’m not as bad as either of you alcoholics and so I went to the nearest bar and…. just kidding. Bad joke.

Anyways, I, like the gentleman who spoke, don’t think I have let my drinking get as bad as a lot of the addicts with whom I associate with in these meetings. For example, I haven’t been arrested twice in one week. (Although I’ve been arrested once for being drunk in public and proceeded to cry the whole way proclaiming in sobs to the policemen “I’m not a baaaad perrrrsoonn.” They then took me to the drunk tank and I talked the lady out of putting me in the drunk tank and then hitchhiked a ride back to where? The bar, obviously, where I had another drink.) I haven’t gotten a DUI. I haven’t lost a partner. I haven’t lost a family. I haven’t lost a job. I actually have a pretty good life. But all of these things just have not happened YET. These are all things that, if I continue to drink, could very well happen. I haven’t gotten arrested twice in one week YET. I haven’t gotten a DUI YET. I haven’t lost a partner YET. I haven’t lost a family YET. I haven’t lost a job YET.

Does it make someone any more or any less of an alcoholic if these things have or have not happened to them? I mean, what makes you a real alcoholic?

Is being a real alcoholic defined by the amount of DUIs you have? Is being arrested twice in one week for alcohol a prerequisite into the alcoholics club? How about drinking everyday? Drinking by yourself? Do you have to lose a job because of alcohol before you can officially be deemed an alcoholic? How about having withdrawals? Do you need to wake up in the morning and have withdrawals if you don’t drink to be a real alcoholic? Do these all mean you are a real alcoholic and have a real problem with alcohol?


I think having a problem with alcohol is not contingent upon answering yes or no to these questions. You don’t need to get a DUI or be arrested to be deemed an alcoholic or realize alcohol may be a problem. There are no prerequisites or monuments you must pass before you can coin yourself an alcoholic. There is no graduation ceremony. If you have alcoholism, you can’t consistently predict how much you’ll drink, how long you’ll drink, or what consequences will occur from your drinking. It is possible to have a problem with alcohol, even when it has not progressed to the point of alcoholism. Problem drinking means you drink too much at times, causing repeated problems in your life, even though you’re not completely dependent on alcohol.

For me, I realize I have a problem with alcohol. I do not know how much I will drink when I go out. I do not know how long I will continue to drink. I do not know what negative consequences will occur from my drinking. I drink too much at times. And, while I am not dependent on alcohol, I have a problem controlling my drinking. The problem being I can’t control it.

I don’t need to get a DUI or lose a partner or a family to realize I have a problem with alcohol. I don’t need for it to progress to the point of alcoholism. I don’t need to let my drinking get as bad as some of the people in AA. I see that I have a problem now and would rather acknowledge the problem and try to fix it before all of these “YETS” actually happen. Just because you or someone else have had more extreme consequences because of drinking does not make you or anyone else more of an alcoholic or mean that you have a bigger problem with it than I do myself. Believe me I have had my own negative consequences because of drinking.

So what makes you a real alcoholic?

There’s no such thing. No one is more or less of an alcoholic than anyone else solely based on their personal experiences. It’s just that some had to lose everything before they realized they had a problem while others realized they had a problem before they allowed it to destroy their life.


22 days. 

stay sober my friends. 


What’s My Motivation?

I used to reward myself for everything I did by drinking a beer after. I cleaned the house. Beer. I did some work in the yard. Beer. I worked out. Beer. I took a shower. Beer. (Ok that last one is a bit of an exaggeration). But regardless I could justify a reason to drink a beer based on an activity, my productivity or even just based on the weather. It’s hot out. Beer. It’s cold out. Beer. Blue skies. Gray skies. Day skies. Night skies. Beer. Beer. Beer. Beer.

How about days ending in “day.”

Monday (just cause its the start of the week). Beer.

Taco  Tuesday. Beer.

Wine Wednesday. (Fuck the wine I want a) Beer.

Thirsty Thursday. Beer.

Friday. Beer.

Saturday. Beer.

Sunday Funday. A lot of fucking beer.

I’m sure you get the picture. It’s a portrait painted in craft (and sometimes light) beer. Again, I didn’t drink everyday but when I did, girl, I drank. And then the next morning my reasoning for getting so intoxicated would be one of the aforementioned justifications.

Those of you who know me know that when I used to smoke it would be the same thing. I cleaned the house. Cigarette. Walk the dog? I’ll do it! (With a cigarette). Take out the trash? Yup. (And light up a cigarette on my way back).

Now, with nothing to reward myself with, what’s my motivation? We all need ways to reward and motivate ourselves. Now that have I eliminated a beer or a Marlboro Light as my reward what’s left? (I read that last sentence — the one that I just typed, which you just read — and thought: Jesus, how sad is that?!) My rewards were a beer or a cigarette? There are so many more ways I can reward myself or anyone can reward themselves sans alcohol. How about: Shopping. A massage. A pedicure. Food. Coffee. Diet Pepsi (my fave). A movie. A nap. Candy. Dessert. Food. (I am very food motivated). A massage from your significant other. (Ahem. Hint. Kate. Ahem.) There are so many more things to life!

**I realize I don’t need a reward for cleaning the house or many other things, I mean, I am almost fucking 30 but sometimes just having your significant other simply acknowledge it makes you feel good. (Ahem. Kate.) Also, I was an only child for 20 years and am a whore for praise.

Since you were wondering (and I have ADD) I had a lovely weekend. On Friday, Kate (the girlfriend) and I went to dinner and a movie. On Saturday Kate ran 20 miles (she’s training for her umpteenth marathon) and I ran 20 miles less than that but I did go to the gym and it was nice. After the gym I drove down to the harbor (where she was to finish her run) and took some pictures with her fancy camera while I waited for her to finish. It was fun being a tourist in my city. I even hung the camera around my neck for the full Asian tourist effect.

Star of India

star of india. i’m so artistic.

San Diego Harbor

san diego harbor. again, super artistic.

Being the amazing girlfriend I am (if I do say so myself) I brought Kate a breakfast sandwich and then snapped a few shots of her for her own blog. Her blog is all about running and fitness and health (and way cooler than mine and she gets companies to pay for her to write posts and review their health products etc). Mine on the other hand is all about drinking (or my lack thereof) which I don’t think any company will want my review of a product for. Hi Brittany, Love the blog. Can you try this hand sanitizer and write a review of it? (Shit Bob she has a problem with alcohol abuse she may try to drink it. What were you thinking?) Or how about this new uhhhhh non-alcoholic ummm water? No. I don’t think I will be reviewing any products for any incentives any time soon. Or ever. However, I can be reached via e-mail for inquiries and take cash, check or credit. (And now I will insert a shameless girlfriend promotion www.socalrunnergal.com.)

In other news, I just finished reading Dry: A Memoir by Augusten Burroughs (the same author of Running with Scissors: A Memoir) over the weekend and I loved it. (With all this new found free time that drinking (and the aftermath of drinking) used to take up I am finding myself able to do a lot more constructive things like read more books rather than lounge on the couch with a bean and cheese burrito and a pounding headache not wanting to move while watching the Kardashians and Real Housewives). Anyways, the book chronicles the author’s personal experience during and after treatment for alcoholism while living in NYC over a 10-year time period. For me it was easy to relate to especially since he is gay and in advertising and says fuck a lot but I also love his style of writing which is very matter of fact, satirical, with blatant honest humor. I would recommend it for anyone thinking  about getting sober or who is sober. Or even not sober. It’s just a good easy weekend read.

That’s all she wrote for now. 2 weeky no drinky.

Stay sober my friends.

And now for more pictures of my family…

My Family

my family: kate (the girlfriend). the dogs. ringo (the cat) not pictured and probably off being a dick and knocking shit over or ruining more furniture.

stella bean page

hi my name is stella and i’m a barkaholic.

Gunner the Lab

hi my name is gunner and i love to lick.

Flashback Friday: August 1

In honor of Flashback Friday I am going to start a new series in my sober blog where I will flashback to past drunken memories (or lack thereof) of times during my drinking days.

With that said, I stumbled upon a blog I wrote five years ago today which paints a perfect picture of where my 23-year old self was at that time. You’ll note that I am still funny and still good looking, yes, but also a beer drinking, cigarette smoking, man dating little shit. (Thank Buddha I quit smoking, drinking AND dating men).

I feel hungover just reading it.

Oh how the times have changed and how I do not miss that Brittany.

So enjoy. Or don’t.

OTL Weekend August 1, 2009

Stay sober my friends.