Gin & Regret

Hi Darling Ones,

A lot of my friends laugh when I tell them the exact last time I got shit-faced drunk. It was the night in August 2008 when Barack Obama accepted the democratic party’s nomination for president. For some reason I decided that would be a good occasion to drink a lot of gin and then type words to the Internet. It was not pretty and point I confessed to twitter that I was eating lunch meat out of the fridge with my pants unzipped.

As regrettable as that whole thing was, the next day was worse. I had never been so hungover in my entire life, and I spent most of the day whining to Wolfdogg on Google chat.

“I’m dying.” I said.
“You aren’t dying.” He said.
“Bring me a moolatte,” I said.
“No.”
“I’m dying.”
“Go get a moolatte and some French fries and you’ll feel better.”
“I can’t I’m dying.”

Imagine that conversation over and over for hours until I finally got myself a moolatte and some French fries and surprise! felt much better. Imagine that conversation and ponder why Wolfdogg continues to be my friend.

At some point either during the drunkenness or in the aftermath I tweeted about how I was full of gin and regret and he said that should be the title of my memoir.

Since I have no plans to write the boringest memoir to ever exist (this here website is probably enough), I did take Wolfdogg’s advice and called chapter 18 of the beast Gin & Regret.

Even though patron saint of all that is good and holy Dolly Parton said in her book Songteller that nobody gives a damn about your creative process, I’m gonna tell you a wee bit about my process today.

Today I experienced a kind of consecrated convergence of creativity, music, and motivation and it was as close to a religious experience as this agnostic was gonna have. I put on the Smoking Popes’ very excellent 1997 album “Destination Failure” and got to typing. Since I was using a Pomodoro-kind of app to help limit distractions things were going pretty well, but then “Pretty Pathetic” hit and I think I was moved my the holy ghost or something.

The song was emotionally exactly what I was trying to accomplish in the chapter — a sad ending that happened unexpectedly when a character least expects it. It was fucking amazing. The next two-thousands words just fell out of my fingers so fast I could hardly keep up.

It was glorious and marvelous and I just wanted to tell someone.

Please forgive me Dolly for I have sinned,
Jodi

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