By the time you read this, I should be well on my way to being nicely intoxicated.  Due to the fact that I will be out all day, starting with a trip to the wonderfully bass ackwards McCarran International Airport at noon.  My night will end sometime tomorrow morning.  Saliva show tonight, friends in town, lots of alcohol.  I'm sitting here with dye in my hair ready to pass out, but I still have a ton of things to do.  None of those things include a new journal entry.  So here, for your reading pleasure, is a regurgitated entry from my old journal.  Enjoy!

Everyone has their vices. Most people don't have just one vice. I don't care what they tell you. Mine are caffeine & nicotine. I also adore food, but I don't consider food a vice. Its a joy. I'll explain more in a minute.

I drink copious amounts of caffeine. Be it coffee in some form, sodas or ice tea. Only when I am sleeping does an hour go by that I don't have some kind of caffeine. Its half of the clock that makes my world tick. I didn't use to be that way. When I was younger it was a soda here or there & the rest of the time it was iced tea. I am a Belle by birth you & damn proud of it I might add. As I got older, new avenues of the world of caffeine opened up for me.

It started as coffee. Just plain Jane coffee. Then I started working at a casino where I had comp privileges at the coffee stand. At that point coffee became old & insufficient. I graduated to double shot lattes (don't steam the milk please & no I DO NOT want it on ice). Several years ago, when I was back in Texas, I hung out in Austin A LOT. There I was introduced to the world of coffee houses & quad mocha lattes. Yes, that's correct, a latte with 4 shots. Little did I know that my world was never going to be the same. Now, since I don't have access to decent coffee joints, I drink entirely too much coffee. Its not unusual for me to drink two pots in an evening & still be able to go to bed. But enough about coffee, there are other things to cover here.

As it was stated in an earlier entry, I smoke. A LOT. I wake up, I smoke. I go to the can, I smoke. I eat, I smoke. Basically, if I am awake, I smoke. I don't do drugs, I don't drink all that much & I don't party so I guess you can consider this my one really bad habit. I started when I was a teenager stealing Mom's Virginia Slim Ultra Lights & moved up the nicotine ladder from there. I am currently at Camel Filter 100's, but I do smoke Pall Mall 100's most of the time.

I'm also fat. Am I sad about it? Hell no. I quit worrying about my weight several years ago. Why? Because I don't particularly give a fuck if you like me or not because I'm overweight. I'm not that way because I have a medical disorder & I'm not morbidly obese, I'm just overweight. I'm fat because I like food. Am I obsessed with food? No I am not. I just happen to like all the stuff that will make you fat. I'm not particularly big on sweets either. But I am from the South which means I like everything deep fried & smothered in gravy. Food is wonderful. There is so much stuff to try, but when you are worried about your weight, you deprive yourself of all that wonderful stuff.

I have dieted. After years I figured out that my nemesis is the wonderfully yummy carbohydrate. If I cut that out, I would drop every last bit of this weight within six months. But you know what? If I did that, I would be eating all the stuff I don't particularly care for. Don't get me wrong, I like vegetables & meat, but I don't want to eat just that every day I am alive. I love bread, pasta & various forms of potatoes. My goal in life is to be happy. Not being able to eat the things I like does not make me happy. And just for the record, my blood pressure & cholesterol are well in the normal range & actually on the low side.

I'm sure some of you are saying..... but your lifestyle is going to kill you. I have news for ya Skippy, we're all gonna die sometime. You could be crossing the street & get mowed down. Hell, in today's world, you could be sitting in your favorite vegetarian joint wishing you were eating some deep fried slab of meat & get hit by a stray bullet. And you know what happens then? You die thinking, "Damn, I never got to have that chicken fried steak." Not me. No siree. When I die, I will have a gravy filled, deep fried pocket smothered in some more gravy in one hand, a beverage with enough caffeine to fuel an army in the other & a smoke hanging out of my mouth. Translation, I will die happy.

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