His writing was good

because of alcohol, and the other day, my friend and I were talking about the fact that writing seems easier when you've been drinking. I said this candidly, knowing that I don't use alcohol to write. It's not a problem for me.

When I saw him on Thursday night, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey and said "This is my drink of choice", acting like Burrows, and I suddenly realized he was emulating him. That he was hiding under the "alcoholic writer" guise in order to read his poetry to me.

By that point, I'd already admitted that I understood why people drink to write, and realized that by being at that bar and being a "writer", I was helping to make it "ok" to take on this persona. I was giving him reason to take on that crutch. So I casually mentioned the whole alcoholic thing, but he was too busy feeling like he was living Barfly. He didn't even notice.

You know what? Superstar writers and everyone else that gets that far REALLY DO have a responsiblity about how they're living. Even at 33, it's ok to be a drunk writer because W.S.B was, and everyone loves him. Not only was my friend talking about his drinking and writing, he was proudly talking about it, leaning over the books he was reading, establishing himself as a true intellectual.

On a separate note, I think people that don't say what they're really thinking and are too forgiving and "too" understanding are just wimps.
I'm one of them.

A

thought.

I love feeling euphoric and passionate, but I hate these mood swings. One day, I'm ready to conquer the world. The next day, I want to find a different life.

I see my marriage

like I see color.

My personality is a primary color like red, with firey loudness and high strung emotion. I feel everything passionately. I have strong opinions. I experience euphoria and depression. I am a dreamer and an idealist with one predominent streak of pure color.

Mike's personality is a mixture of all different colors. He has an appreciation of moderation and blend. He observes and trys new things, taking little bits of color and adding it to who he is. And what that makes is a neutral color -- a combination of a bunch of different colors, but a more beautiful version of the original colors.

What I'm realizing is that even though red is a more shocking and bold color, I like neutrals and earthtones better. And although I've always felt that Mike accents my personality, I'm starting to realize that I accent his. All this frustration with my predominance in our marriage is (in some ways) incorrect. Because if I really think about it, our lives are more neutral. I've adapted to HIS way, and slowly but surely am taking the harshness out of my own red.

I am not

her. But I wish I was. For Emmett's sake, I wish I could focus on traditional gender roles. And be just a mom. And not want more than that.

I'm not looking for praise at my dynamic personality, and how great it is that I'm interested in life etc. etc. I give myself that a lot of the time. This is just a post where I'm thinking about what I'm not, and realizing that although I've criticized that type of woman for many, many years, there is something to be said for teh woman that loves taking care of the home and family. It's selfless and giving. It's thankless, unglorious work. And to be satisfied with that is not to care about what a person like me thinks.

But for Emmett's sake, I wish "mom" could be my identity. It's still not, even though I try to make it be. I'm still Elisabeth first.

But today I felt more mom than usual. I woke up, gave Emmett a bath and Mike and I made Emmett and Nate breakfast. Emmett is so excited when Nate is here, which is another benefit to Wayne living here.

I have a lot to prepare for Monday. It's revisiting my professional persona. My overly confident persona, with all kinds of industry words and hard thinking. I dread it but I'm excited. Mostly, I dread it. And the reason is because my portfolio needs updating (major ordeal) and I need a new outfit. Designers and copywriters have to be edgy but professional. Thank God for Banana Republic.

As I'm writing, I'm not paying attention to Emmett's repeated phrases "I crashed my truck". All he wants me to do is look at it. And I should.

It's a scary week for me,

Valentine's week.
During this week, all the candy is drastically reduced and next week, it will be even more. In fact, next week, CVS will have perfectly good Valentine's candy at 80% off. The deal itself is hard for me to pass up. Many times, when I pay regular price for a candy bar, I wish it were "after" a holiday. And usually, I buy tons of it (with Mike looking at me like I'm insane), come home, and store the candy in the freezer. I look carefully for candy that has a superficial wrappying (Russel Stover usually does -- you can peel away the paper and it's wrapped in regular plastic and looks like a regular box of candy).

The cheapness is incredible and it's getting more pronounced over the years. Mike and I cannot pass up a good deal. We stop and get McD.onalds dollar milkshakes because I read that everytime they sell something from their dollar menu without sides, the company looses money. And how DARE anyone make a dime off of us.

In the spirit of this, Threadless (my favorite tshirt company) is having a $10 tshirt sale until Feb. 25. Click here: Threadless and enter this code tenbucks20 when you check out. All the tshirts will come up $10.

In other news:

Life Events: We went to Florida for my neice's Christening. That was fine. Then we went to Vermont to see Mike's estranged sister and her daughter. That was very difficult on many levels. Particularly, my position was strange because I had to be "neutral" listening to both sides and siding with everyone. The family uses me as a sound board often and the "savior" when someone snaps at someone else. "Did you feel that was strange Elisabeth". And of course, I say no.

Ad Idea:For months now, I've been visualizing this anti-smoking ad where there's a picture of a mother slashing her wrists and the back of a child watching with the words "This is what your child sees every time you smoke".

Freelance Work: Monday, I go for an interview in Baltimore MD for freelance work that could really help us. The job sounds exciting and I think it will yield more work. I need to work on many levels (both financially and intellectually).

House:Thank God we haven't done any major changes. Every day I get a different sense of what I want to do. Right now it's hardwood floors.

Mike and My Relationship: We have a marriage counseling appointment to deal with one particular issue that's been infecting our marriage lately. I dread it because there's the desire in me to run.

Wayne Living Here: This is working out great.

OK. I've been an absentee poster for months. I should go back into my cave for awhile. I'll try to write more regularly, but as this is a non-searchable site, you all kind of know what's going on.

I never let myself be

beautiful.

I feel so unfeminine.

Watching Sex in the City is like poisen for me.

I just want to be a beautiful, well-dressed woman, and have an expensive coat and shoes that match a particular outfit -- to even understand shoes. I want to spend hours on my face and have enough time to do my hair. I want to be the girl I never was. I said to Mike "I will never once be that well dressed in my lifetime". And it wasn't designed as an attack on him. It showcases the fact that I feel I've wasted my youth, wasted my pretty years, in an alternative fashion designed for people with problems that need attention.

I watch that show with all the unusual fashions and interesting make-up and beautiful hairstyles and think why haven't I ever done that? Why do I own only one pair of dressy shoes from Payless? And I think it's because we don't have the money. But more than that, it's because other things are a priority.

Mike and I aren't poor. We do buy things. But I never buy things like that. I never buy a "full" outfit. I never buy anything specific, because it feels wasteful. I'm always struggling, buying only what's on sale, trying to figure out the fastest way to look acceptable. And it's not because of Emmett. It's because of me.