Holiday Buzzkill: The Literal Version

December 31, 2010

Hey, you. It’s been awhile. It’s nice to see you.

The awesome thing about being the sole steerman of this blog is that if I decide to take an extended absence, I don’t gotta tell you nothin.’  I can just pop up, say “Hey, you,” and carry on, business as usual. It’s a pretty great option, don’t you think?  How cool would it be in real life to be able to pull up anchor, disappear into the vapor for a few weeks and then report back to your boss or your children with a smile and a few cheap souvenirs?

I don’t gotta tell you nothin.’

But I never can keep my big, yammering pie-hole shut, so I’ll tell you a little story. The PG version, though, because a girl’s gotta leave a little mystery.

Anyways, Sucktober and Suckvember sucked kind of harder than I let on. I didn’t really mislead you on purpose. It’s just that sometimes suckage builds up gradually, piece by piece, and it chips away at you in sneaky little bits, so you almost don’t notice it until it’s sitting on your shoulder, eating your head for dinner.

The worst thing about SneakSuckage is that you think you’re handling things okay. Until you’re not.

Which is how KitchyWitchy got knocked off her broom.

Actually, that’s a tad too eloquent for what happened, but what do you expect me to say? That Kitch lost her CrackerJacks? That she rode the Everclear Elevator up to the Big Head Shrinker in the sky?

Not that I have anything against head-shrinkers. I happen to have a great one, like most over-privileged, over-educated and under-afflicted suburban dwellers do. I’ve been burdening him with my prattle since, like, birth.

I kid you not. I think I came out of the womb carrying a sack of dirty diapers and a big sign that said, “I Blame My Parents.”

So, during my (ahem) hiatus, I was talking to the InShrinkerator–hey, shut up! If you have seen the same head goon as long as I have, you are allowed to give him saucy nicknames–and was, naturally, whining like a slaughtered lamb.

“Wow, that really is a lot on your plate,” he said.

“I know!” I wailed. “And you know how I get so blue in the winter, and the extra anti-depressants aren’t worrrrrrking.”

“Not at all?” he said.

“No!” I said. “In fact, I’m weepy all the time. Except when I’m angry, which is, like, the other half of the time. I got so mad at my husband the other day that I almost threw my Pinot Noir at his…”

The InShrinkerator narrowed his left eyelid and shifted in his seat. In Shrinkspeak, this means: I just caught you f*&^ing up royally.

“Pinot Noir?” he said.

“Um. Yeah.”

“How long have you been on anti-depressant medication?” he asked.

“Since birth,” I said, slumping in the chair. “But at birth I didn’t know how delicious Pinot Noir was! I know it says on the pill bottle not to drink alcohol, but you told me a few years ago that I could have a leeetle bit and it wouldn’t really do any harm…”

“I did,” he said. And narrowed his eyelid a little more. “How much is a leeetle bit?”

Let’s just say that he didn’t like my answer.

“Are you exercising?” he asked.

“Does walking to the toaster count?”

He didn’t like that answer either.

“Are you eating?”

“Who eats when they’re depressed? A bout of depression is like a productive week with the flu–it’s good for at least a 5-pound weight loss.”

Which is how, in early December, I found myself looking at the InShrinkerator and hearing the words, “…regular meals and vigorous daily exercise and no alcohol whatsoever for 30 days and then we’ll reassess blahblahblah.”

I think his mouth was actually moving but I’m not sure, because at that point his head had morphed into that of a feral, three-headed, drooling dog.

“Whoaaa, hold the phone,” I said. “It’s December? As in, the holidays? As in, the Twelve Days of Cocktails?”

“Do you want to get out of this hole or not?”  the feral, three-headed dog said bluntly.

I really kinda sorta did. And if I took my husband and children into consideration (a gracious gesture, in my opinion), I guess I really did. Enough to maybe give his words some thought.

I thought for about 5 minutes and then called my husband.

“Duuuude, my therapist has totally turned into Cerberus. He wants me to eat healthy, exercise vig-or-ous-ly every day and–get this–no booze for 30 whole days. What in the blue blazes has happened to him?”


“Are you there? Did you hear me?”

“I heard you.”

“So, really, can you believe that batshit crazy regimen?”


Sigh. “Okay, okay, I get it. But I don’t want to do it by myself.”  Cue the tune: I’ll Be Selfish for Christmas…

“That’s all right. I’ll do it with you.”

I really don’t deserve that man.

So every day, I’ve been trying to eat well, exercise (vigorously!), and live on seltzer with lime. I’m also on enough antidepressant medication to make a hippo dance the merengue.

I’ve only been bitter about it half the time, which I think is pretty good, considering.  I did have a rotten time wrapping presents under the influence of seltzer, but I survived.

And I have to admit, I’m feeling a little better. Contrary to my belief, healthy food, lots of exercise and zero cocktails don’t induce immediate death.

I’m not done with Le Regime yet, and I can’t tell you what I’m going to do when my 30 days are up. Could be that I’ll be back, full-throttle, Pinot (in the teeeeniest glass possible)  in hand. Could be that I’ll be kind of back, Pinot not in hand, tossing out recipes for Awesome F&*#ing Mocktails!!! for a while. Could be that I’ll still be scarcer than usual but when I am here, I’ll try to entertain. Time shall tell.

But I’m happy to be here today, sharing the holiday that sort of… wasn’t… with you. I did not catch up on blog posts like I’d planned; all that clean livin’ takes Hella Lotta time, let me tell you. So if you’ll bear with me, I’ll try to ease (really ease) my way back. I’ve got some shiny new healthy recipes for you–perfect for January detox, ne ces pas?

I think I’m the only freak who is beginning the New Year in better shape than she ended it, but January is still a time to focus on good habits.  So here’s to Rigorous Rotten January.

What I do know: I’ve missed y’all. And Dear God, I survived a holiday season without cocktails.  Even I can’t believe it. I’ll toast to all you lovely readers with cranberry, seltzer and lime tonight.  My best gift this year has been you.

Much love,


{ 16 comments… read them below or add one }

Liz @ Peace, Love & Guacamole January 4, 2011 at 12:34 pm

Sometimes the suckage just gets the best of us…totally understand. So glad you’re feeling a little better, and I’m really hoping to see your a video impersonation of a hippo doing the merengue.


ayala January 4, 2011 at 1:38 pm

I hope things look up soon-take care :)


faemom January 4, 2011 at 2:06 pm

If you ever need an ear, I’m here. Exercise, eh? I wonder if that would help me.

And where’s my cheap souvenir?
Hurry back soon. We miss you.


Belinda January 4, 2011 at 3:51 pm

I think it was Anne Lamott who said that it’s nearly impossible to be a thinking, feeling, living human being today and not have bouts of depression. Being alive is hazardous to our health. Hang in there and know that you are far from alone.

Great to read you again.


Quay Po Cooks January 5, 2011 at 7:42 am

I know what it is like for you, I have been there, it is no fun at all. I hope you feel better each day.


Justine January 5, 2011 at 8:50 am

My holidays – despite what it LOOKS like on my blog (which I’ve neglected quite a bit lately) – felt quite like yours on the suckage dept, only slightly less healthy. Being pregnant also means no booze, so we’re in the same boat. However, I TOTALLY understand being overwhelmed and kicked in the a$$ by life because I was (and still am) just there.

I chose to report on the positive on the blog because really, I am reeling from the effects of how consuming the darkness can be, and need to get out of it. I think I need an InShrinkerator myself just to help me come out of the water for a bit ya know? Even when you can swim, constantly threading water in the deep end can still be exhausting. And sometimes that’s what pulls you in.

Here’s to wishing us both good health and good luck in 2011. May we float effortlessly again someday.


Cathy January 5, 2011 at 2:52 pm

Well depression sucks and if I got my sorry ass to “shrinkman” he’d probably tell me the same regimen. Funny thing about drinking I’ve recently noticed is that seems like drinking didn’t “help” and only made me feel like crap. I did NOT, however, give it up.

And, I know what you mean about having to quit drinking during the holidays. I think I found out I was preggo with my first kid right before Thanksgiving. At 25, with no clue, let’s just say the holidays sucked big time.

Glad you are back! Take care of yourself.


Mary Lee January 5, 2011 at 5:47 pm

So glad to see you back in the saddle!

So THAT’S what an inshrinkerator would say! My internal medicine doctor says the same thing. (sigh)

I’m glad you have the guy you deserve!

Hey, I’m often down in the well, too. Wave next time!


Biz January 6, 2011 at 1:01 pm

Wow, the whole season without cocktails, not sure that has ever happened in my adult life!

Hang in there – we’ll be here when you get back.



Terry Castle January 6, 2011 at 2:18 pm

OKAY. like I miss you and hope your feeling better. That depression thing sure sucks. I’m always just this side of it.

But you have a gift my friend. You are truly original. I am envious of your talent.

You have so much talent that it is boiling over.

You know this, right? You know that you can write like the wind, make the world love you, and laugh and cry with you. You know this, right? Please tell me you know this and that when you want to you will take your show on the road.

Miss you. I’ve gotta go to Pilates or something.

Happy New Year,


Dana January 6, 2011 at 10:37 pm

I’m so happy to hear that things are on the mend. HUG!

And remember, no throwing the precious Pinot Noir, even if it is in a teensy weensy glass. :P


Futureblackmail January 7, 2011 at 6:40 am

I obviously don’t know the facts but I find myself in the same boat (without the alcohol restriction). When my homelife is disintergrating around me, the last thing I want to do is hammer out a half-assed post and then Facebook all about it. I’ve been in a hole for awhile now…I hope you can climb out of yours.


Dana Udall-Weiner January 7, 2011 at 7:31 am

You are so brave and so funny! I love the idea that walking to the toaster might constitute exercise. I’d be in AWESOME shape if that were the case…


Mrs.Mayhem January 8, 2011 at 5:21 pm

Well, Kitch, I’ve missed you. Hopefully the suckage will improve. Looking forward to healthy recipes (yeah, pesky new year’s resolutions and all…)


Shawna January 10, 2011 at 11:41 am

Suckage can suck it. Kitch is following doctor’s orders and getting healthy! Hope you’re feeling much better! And Happy 2011, here’s to new beginnings *clinks together wine (ahem, sparkling water with lime) glasses*!!!


Liz January 14, 2011 at 7:17 am

First off…no cocktails during December? I’d die. Kudos to you. And even more so to Hubby for understanding, and not hesitating, to support.
Secondly…can I say that I love your honesty? That you put your sh*t out there…therapist, anti-depressants, the whole deal? THIS is what I love most about this blogging world I’ve discovered: that when you think you’re the only one who is a little f’d up, you realize…NO, there are others, and we’re all in it (IT being LIFE) together, struggling, improving, working to make our selves and our lives better. (I swear, referring to the being f’ed up part is a compliment…) ;)


Leave a Comment

Previous post:

Next post: