I have a week left of Christmas vacation. Have I mentioned before how much I love my job? We get Christmas Eve through January 4 off this year, and I couldn’t be more thrilled about this. So, as a departure from my usual deep thoughts about life and such I thought I’d blog about Christmas 08, so far.

 

Gifts to Myself

What can I say, I’m a giver…. And I really decided to go for it this year when I gave myself a pain in the neck, literally. It’s called Submental/Neck Liposuction. My plan is to be smoking hot at 40 so that it’s just a number and not a reminder that I’m 40 and have really screwed it all up. Which I have, but if I look good maybe I won’t notice so much. I don’t have an after photo yet because my head is wrapped in an ace bandage-like contraption  that goes around my chin and head. It is anything but attractive and comfortable, which is why I chose to have the procedure in the holidays. I can hide for the five required days and emerge only looking like someone has tried to choke me to death. This is the procedure, for the most part.

As we age, certain areas of the body can accumulate fat that is hard to lose, in spite of a healthy diet and vigorous exercise. The neck is one of those areas. Fat in the neck can detract from the appearance of the entire body, making a younger person seem older, or a fit person seem out of shape. Neck Liposuction can give this area a new streamlined contour, enhancing the effect of facial features and improving the profile. Neck liposuction produces consistently good results, and has a particularly high patient satisfaction rate. Performed as an outpatient procedure, the unwanted fat is gently removed by vacuum suction through very small incisions in hidden under the chin. This procedure is most successful in individuals that have good skin tone to the neck, allowing the skin to redrape nicely after fat removal, revealing a sleek new neck and jaw profile.

So basically I get a new profile and a sculpted neck for Christmas. I have decided against the entire body overhaul for now. First, of all, it’s insanely expensive and I have priorities. Second, the downtime is too consuming. I can’t imagine when I’ll have two to three complete weeks where I don’t have to drive, work, or really move at all. I don’t see it happening any time soon. It’s something that has to be carefully planned and thought out where I have lots of help and work squared and kids squared away. And winning the lottery would help. So in the meantime, I realized that the body overhaul is a great idea for the self-esteem but really, who the heck is seeing any of it but the plastic surgeons who keep marking me up during consultations, me, and the cat? Exactly. So I decided to start with what is visible all the time – my face. It’s something that has always bugged me. I have always, even as a kid, had this area under my chin that kept me from having a defined neck. My profile bugged me. I always stick my neck out in pictures to hide it. So I fixed it. If you decide to try this procedure, bring an Ipod. Otherwise, you can hear the entire procedure. And by that I mean, you can hear “inside” your head the device scraping against your jawbone. You can hear the slurpy sound of the canula sucking out all of your fat. Kind of like getting to the very end of a milkshake. (Hope you weren’t having lunch. Sorry.) Good times…good vain times. And now I look like one of those kids on Weird Science with this white bra-like contraption on my head. It itches. It bothers me. It’s ugly. But apparently, it’s the key to success, so I wear it. So, cheers to skinny necks and all that jazz.

Boots! If you’ve read my blog long enough you know I love a new pair of boots. Like my children, I love each pair in their own special way and refuse to play favorites. A few weeks ago, I was shopping with my daughters and my sister and we came across a cool pair of tall, low heel Army-type boots with a cool silver buckle. I admired them, but didn’t purchase them as I’m also known as Santa around these parts. My oldest daughter paid attention and did her own investigative reporting to learn my size and made sure to remember the name of the store. She apparently asked her father to take her to the mall so that she could buy her mommy a Christmas present. This girl has the biggest heart of anyone I know and is beyond kind and thoughtful. She is keenly aware of others and at age 7 prefers to put others before herself, which is basically unheard of. She made sure that she and her dad worked to get just the right boots for me. Granted, this is no longer his job. Not even close. I, too, made sure that she and her sister had presents for their dad on Christmas morning. I didn’t break the bank and honored their requests. They don’t understand that we don’t buy for each other anymore, and we are the only links to wallets they know of. I get the report just before Christmas that the price tag on the boots was more than $200. Clearly, this was beyond what he expected to pay so I paid him back. So I got the coolest boots ever from the coolest 7 year old daughter ever. Sort of. I wasn’t planning on paying $200 for boots in the height of going broke buying drum sets, Bratz, puzzles, Meebas, doll houses, and Nintendo DS games….but I guess I did. I may sleep in those boots tonight. I bet they’ll look smashing with my head bra contraption thing.

 

Special Lunch. Before Christmas, I got to have lunch with a very special friend and got two of the best Christmas gifts I’ve ever received – one to wear and another for my heart. A reminder that hope remains.

 

Help Me! Two days before Christmas, I realized there was no way I was going to get this drum set for my oldest put together. I was overwhelmed with all the wrapping, packing up for a trip to see the family, and lonely without my kids. So I accepted an offer for help and it turned out to be a really fun night of wrapping presents and sitting back drinking wine while I watched the drum set being put together (ha, ha). I made some appetizers and kept the wine and good movies going, and a night that would otherwise be frustrating and lonely turned out to be really great and rather sweet.

 

A Good Sign. When I chose my new neighborhood, I did so mostly for my kids. I wanted them to have the experience I had growing up where kids could play in their yards and safely ride bikes. We can walk to the community pool. It’s certainly not a place for a single girl to meet someone as it’s a family-oriented community but this isn’t about me; it’s all about them. So we’re here. I was told people are so friendly and you meet a new neighbor every time you walk outside. Really? Because I haven’t found this to be true. And then on Christmas Eve, the neighbors started coming by….bringing homemade cookies, leaving little ornament gifts in my mail box and cards on my door. I’m excited for warm weather so we can hang out outside and hopefully meet some cool people.

 

The Gift That Keeps on Giving. Excited about the prospect of a few days to myself to clean up the Christmas explosion and get some things organized, I went to bed on Friday night at my parents’ house ready to hit the road and get the kids to their dad’s so I could have some me-time. Around 2 a.m., the virus from hell hits. The youngest is down, and I’m drenched. I stay up with her until around 5 a.m. until she finally drifts off on her little bed of fresh towels I made for her. Load the girls up in the morning so we don’t “spread the love” to everyone else at the house and she keeps on giving and giving until we hit the Interstate. As we get closer to home, my oldest starts to feel bad. Turns out, she has the gift as well and ready to share. I guess we’re all givers around here. I’m sure I’m next. A lovely sight – getting sick in a head wrap and new boots. Merry Christmas indeed!

 

That Darn Cat! About a month ago, I got my oldest daughter a baby kitten. I still feel guilty about “sending her dog to a farm where he can run and play with other doggies” and she reminds me almost daily about how much she misses him, even though he was the  devil dog and she knew it. So I figured I could deal with a cat. They are low maintenance and she is a great kid and deserves a pet. The only thing she has ever really asked for is a pet. I went the goldfish and hermit crab routes – they are in fishy and crab heaven now. And she is ultra-sensitive and still mourns their passing, much to my amazement. So we have Coco the Cat. This is fine except I believe we now have the Devil Cat counterpart to the Devil Dog. When can I get this feline declawed anyway? And I am allergic to this “sweet” little kitty. So here I sit, typing this with (did I mention the big white bra/jockstrap contraction on my head) with puffy, watery eyes from the cat. Oh yeah, and cats stink. Moving on….

 

I Miss Ivonne. A lot. She was my cleaning lady for several years in my old life. My house really isn’t big enough now to warrant a cleaning lady, and I shouldn’t be spending extra money on something I can easily do myself. But I long for the days of coming home after work to that fresh scent of Pine Sol….clean wastebaskets….folded towels….shiny appliances….an organized fridge….and not a speck of dust in sight. Sigh…. How do I love thee, Ivonne, let me count the ways while I mop and cry. Point is, my house is a wreck post-Santa and I don’t want to clean it. So there.

 

Too Much. My car is loaded to the top with Christmas gifts, bags, and whatever else. My living room is full of toys, wrapping paper….There’s so much to put away and organize. Old toys need to be tossed. Clothes drawers need to be organized. Laundry needs to be done. It’s just too much. Plus my neck hurts. Yeah, that’s it. I can’t do anything because of my neck. Ahem.

 

Is It Wrong….. that I had two naps at my mom’s house, a nap today, pretty decent sleep last night and it’s 9:45 and I’m ready to go to sleep? Again? Because that’s what I’m about to do. I’m sure it’s because of the neck, too. Yeah, that’s it. The neck.

 

So…. A new neck. New boots. New people in my life. New memories….all mixed in with cat hair, a messy house, and a rampant stomach virus. This, friends, was Christmas 08..... so far.

 

I just discovered a brilliant piece of advice..... One of my favorite all-time bloggers, b from Chaos in Your Soul, shared this piece of wisdom. It was so good, I thought I'd pass it along.

 

This is an opportunity for you to learn, grow, buy, and hopefully get lucky.

 

I give you.... holiday brilliance....

 

"I did come up with some stellar advice for men when it comes to gift giving though-it's right inline with their train of thought. Simply ask yourself: "Will this gift make my girlfriend/wife want to have sex with me?" If the answer is no, then it's your present that is f*cked. "

 

 

Happy holidays to you and yours.

Cheers.

When traveling recently, I found myself listening in on other people's cell phone conversations.  I'm a reporter, so yes I'm nosy. Get over it.

 

Most of the conversations were business related. Everyone was so intense and so caught up in whatever it was they were discussing with such intense focus, like their issue was the only thing in the world that mattered. Everyone was going so fast and so lost in themselves and wrapped up so tightly in their own little world. We were all just running. But running where? Won't "it" still be there when we arrive? Afterall, ultimately, we're all headed the same direction. Face it, we're all going to die. It's a given. The scowls on our faces, our daily dramas, and woe is me victim attitudes are almost laughable when you think about it. The world...the universe...is so big. Each of us is just one tiny piece of it yet we all seem to think it revolves around us and our problems. Surely everyone is out to get us, right? Surely everyone is watching me, right? Here's a hint -- no, not really. And if they are, it's a fleeting moment that won't even matter in five minutes because they're onto the next thing in their own self-absorbed world.

 

 I thought of this on a recent night out as well. People are just snobs. Posers. No matter what we wear, what we drive, or where we hang out, ultimately we're all human and created the same. Again, we're all headed the same direction and none of our monetary or social status achievements are going to change the final outcome. You know, you can spend all the money in the world on looking better and looking younger. But you're not. You can try like hell to bring back your youth by partying like you once did, but the next day the party is over and all you really are is tired as hell and hungover. You can go out to bar after bar on Saturday night making sure all the right people see you and so you can collect yet another story about where you went and what you did to make yourself feel like you fit in, but on Sunday no one who was at that bar is thinking about you. What did you achieve, really? Except a hefty bar tab, a headache, and hair that now smells like a pack of Marlboro Lights. Standing the valet line, a guy described his car to the valet. He looks at me and says "it's really a lot cooler car than it sounds like." I started to do my polite, southern "oh goodness" gig but instead I just looked at him like he had two heads because really, that's what he deserved. I didn't and still don't give a shit what he drives. And if I did, I'd be ashamed of myself.

 

I started questioning why we do the things we do, and I'm guilty of doing these questionable things as well. Why do we worry so much about what others think? Why does it matter to us that people think we're younger than we are or that we have more than we do? Who is behind the curtain making up these rules? I started thinking about some of the decisions I make, and I realized so much of those decisions are for others -- usually people I don't even know. In this blog, I've written pages about what I'll be thinking about toward the end of my life should I live long enough to be able to reflect on everything. My greatest fear has been to have regrets about the way I lived or the choices I made. And also, to be alone. I was driving home last night and I realized that the quickest way to have regrets and die alone is to pursue a shallow life. Sure, living life in the shallow end is somewhat safe--you're not really taking risks. It's like being at a resort pool, just lounging around in the shallow end with your make up on, hair down, and maintaining a strategic pose so that your flaws are hidden and assets exposed--giving the appearance that you're calm and relaxed when really your working like hell to appear as both. Yes, you're in the water, soaking up the sun but it's not the same as diving in, swimming, or running along the beach going for it. There's nothing wrong with either scenario but when you go home, what makes a better memory? "I was able to look good for complete strangers for 15 minutes in the shallow end of the waterfall pool" or "I played in the waves with my boyfriend, laughing out loud until we fell on the sand and then made out like teenagers, not even caring who saw us."

 

This has been the year of plastic surgery consultations, regular microdermabrasions, Dr. Ted diets, and much mirror time checking out every flaw and wrinkle as I cursed time. What's the saying....time marches on, right across my face? I believe it. Being single makes it even harder. I'm up against tough competition. If girls aren't young then they're spending every last dime trying to look like they are. But is this a game I want to play? Is it enjoyable? Not really. What's the shame in being a 36 year old working mom? Because that's who I am, and it quite frankly is an honor. In the end, am I trying to be the hottest chick buried at the cemetery? Will we all compare how well are breast implants have held up when we're in Heaven? Does the girl who dies with the most Botox win? In our quest to play games with the opposite sex and run from commitment or to continue to pass up opportunities in pursuit of "someone better," are we basically cementing our fate to wind up all alone? Have we forgotten that we don't get this time back?  There are no "do overs." Do we really think that when we're old and our life is all but said and done we'll be more proud of the deals we closed at work, the stuff we've collected in our homes, and all the labels we've worn than the relationships we've pursued and nurtured? In that porch swing, do I want to reach over and hold his hand or reach over and pat my Louis Vuitton? Is it better for him to look back at all the girls he had or could have had or look over and see the girl who has been by his side and loved him all along?

 

I think of nights out that mean something...nights I remember that I look back on with fondness rather than regret. They're spent with good, real friends. Most of the time it didn't really matter where we were. The one common thread is that in each of these moments, I was experiencing life and enjoying the people in my life. I was enjoying the journey rather than rushing to a destination. I need to invite more of those opportunities in my life and say no to invitations that obviously lead me in the direction of the shallow end.

 

And speaking of all this, here I am writing this blog about really nothing special when there are two something very specials who I can play with, take out for Mexican food, and get ready for school tomorrow. And there's a really special job I'm blessed to have I can prepare for. There's a brand new home I should be proud of I can straighten up and fill with the sounds and aromas of Christmas. There are Christmas cards I can address and send to my precious friends and family. There are songs to turn up to full blast so I can have an impromptu dance party with my daughters as we all fall to the ground, dizzy with laughter. And tonight when I take off my make up, I am going to try really hard to not be critical of the girl I see looking back. She needs to give herself a break. She's doing the best she can.

You know those, to use a rather cliché term, “light bulb moments,” when the solution to something you’ve been struggling with just suddenly appears? Don’t you love those? I wonder, sometimes, if they’re answered prayers or maybe it’s just the reward for hard work spent thinking and working through something. I guess either way you look at it is fine because the end result is that feeling of relief—the opening to a path that you’ve been trying like hell to take but just couldn’t figure out how to remove the obstacles and take the first step.

I was fortunate enough to experience such a moment yesterday. I think part of it was due, in part, to a good therapy session. I haven’t been in awhile, so for a change, I was actually looking forward to it. I had a lot to talk about, and unlike most of my therapy sessions, this time I did talk. And talk. And he just sat back and let me do so without too much advice. I think talking through the struggles is actually what I needed. It’s like I came up with my own solutions with a little guidance.

Don’t get me wrong; I didn’t solve every problem in an hour but I did get rid of a major part of that twisted feeling I wrote about awhile back. The solution, amusingly, actually lies in something I do every day. I just need to apply the skill to my life, rather than an article.

Editing.

Certainly being an empathetic, giving person is a good thing in many ways, and I wouldn’t change that about me because I feel good when I can help others and be there for others. But lately I’ve noticed that the “yes factor” I have has been detrimental to my progress in moving forward. I get stuck and feel pulled downward by others’ problems and neediness. I get too wrapped up in situations that don’t have anything to do with what is—and should be—my priorities at this stage of my life. I complain that I can’t do it all. Well, no wonder. Because I’m inviting in too much “all.” I need to edit out the things that no longer make sense. Some of that will be learning to dismiss worries about people and things I cannot control. Life is going to move forward at full speed ahead, and all of the worrying in the world isn’t going to slow it down or change anything.  Just because I dwell on something doesn't mean the situation will change. The dwelling is what keeps me stuck, and that has to change. Key people in my life will continue to live their lives the way they want, despite my advice or offers to help. Other key people will continue to take advantage of my good nature simply because “that’s the way it’s always been” and the only way that will stop is if I say so.

And I say so.

When hashing everything out in therapy yesterday I said out loud, “I wish all of this would just stop.” And it occurred to me, nothing is happening “to” me. Things are just happening, and it’s how I deal with them that makes them either continue…or stop. I shared this realization with my therapist, and it turns out, I should have written myself the check yesterday. But with this realization comes the proverbial red pen. I have to edit some things out of my life in order for the story to read the way I want it to read. I have to set the priorities, decide what’s important, and hit ‘delete’ on the rest. And just like editing a story that you really like, it’s so much easier said than done. It starts with paying attention to how I feel. And then acting on it. If that situation, or dare I say it, person doesn’t help my “story” at all and doesn’t need to be there anymore, then it….him/her…needs to go.

Some of this editing will be for things that have needed to go for quite a long time. It will be hard to do this, for sure. So much of what needs to be cut are situations and people I’ve had in my life for awhile, and it’s going to hurt to slash through them with my almighty editing pen. But I firmly believe the story will read much better when I do. Things that take up my time that shouldn’t – gone. Things that don’t contribute to my overall goals and priorities in a positive way – gone. Things that drag me down with pointless worry – gone. Just because someone asks doesn’t mean I have to say ‘yes.’ I’m going to become more familiar with the word ‘no.’ I also need to learn to stop knocking on doors when it’s clear no one is going to answer. I have to edit myself as well. You see, just because I think something should be doesn’t necessarily make it so. And that’s a lesson that has been presented to me over and over, and I’ve refused to learn it. I’m stubborn that way, I guess. I have to edit this part about myself and also learn when to give up and move on. This goes for several things in my life, from work to friendships, old friendships, and relationships that have been launched and ultimately failed.

I also need to pay more attention to that inner voice—not the mean one I’ve referred to before. I have to learn to edit him out, of course. I mean the one that knows better. I’m sure you have one too. You can hear it, but don’t want to. But it’s the voice that will make editing so much easier by just listening and doing the work. I’m listening, and admittedly, I don’t like what I hear. But so far, she’s at about 100 percent so I’m being extremely quiet and still, letting her talk and taking her cues.

And this is where the big editing job of my life gets harder. Because as most writers know, editing can hurt. Getting that marked up story back stings. What you turned in, well, that’s what you want. That’s how you want the story to go, and the ending you think is best. So this editing job I have to do, it’s going to hurt. It’s going to hurt me because I’m going to miss some of the people who get cut from the story. I can chop up the story all I want, but it’s impossible to forget the characters. That’s when the nagging pain will come, but I have to learn to overcome it. And then, my supposition, is that it will hurt others as well. They’re used to having me there, just as I am…old faithful. And even if I’m still there, well, it can’t be the same anymore. My routine has to change for this edited version of my life as well. Comfort zones that zapped my energy and attention and caused me to place focus on things that really don’t matter have to go, too. In their place, only things that do matter.

And that’s where I spent most of my evening—deciding what does matter. As my children make their Christmas wish lists, I made a list of what I’m keeping in my story…the things, situations, and people who are spared the red pen. Time wasters, energy zappers, emotional vacuums, financial drains, and anything or anyone that causes an overload of unnecessary worry…one by one I wrote them down and then ceremoniously crossed them off the list.

I woke up this morning and looked at the list to see how it made me feel after a surprisingly good night’s sleep. I felt relief and even a bit of anticipation knowing that once I get used to living like this—an edited version of my life—I will feel free in so many ways…emotionally, financially, spiritually. Hopefully the end result is that I will no longer spend my precious extra time on things that really don’t matter and instead be able to nurture and grow what does matter in my life, whether I have it now or have set a goal to have it. It’s a cleaner life, easier to navigate and understand. More fun to read. And that, my friends, is the very definition of successful editing.

Pen in hand….. ready.

Not sure why I feel the need to blog about this but the drama that has taken place since this week started doesn't even seem real. I love this phrase, and I can think of no better application than to use it here.... "I couldn't make this shit up if I tried."

 

Tuesday.

 

God bless anyone who has to live without heat in the winter. In fact, I think that's what I will contribute to this season--finding a charity that helps people pay their heating bill, get space heaters for their home...whatever. It was, honestly, freezing in this house for the past five days. So I worked from home in order to greet the exterminator and kick his butt for not doing a better job murdering the mice who used my heating system as a snack in the attic and to hug the HVAC people for repairing it. The exterminator came by just as I'm taking my daughters to school, almost making us late. He said he had no idea I had two attic  entrances which is why he never baited the walk-in attic. Funny that, as I clearly recall showing him that attic and him telling me that it didn't need treatment because there was "no sign of activity." I remember thinking "well, let's make sure it stays that way." But me being, well, me..... just took his (lazy) word for it. Fast forward, attick is all baited up. Doubt it will work with these psycho mice though.

 

HVAC guy comes by and between his stories of how his sister's Hummer had to be taken into the shop 20 times in the first two years and how he painted his daughter's room the wrong shade of pink, he managed to swap out the wires on the heating system. Took him exactly 7 minutes. And it cost $100. I want to make $100 in seven minutes, so clearly I could be a call girl or I could repair heaters for a living. Or maybe I could work it into a real profit gig and offer both.....To ponder.....

 

So on my way home last night after such a fun-filled day of complete nothingness (but I have heat! yea!) I'm paused at a stop light slightly amused by the myriad of bumper stickers on the car in front of me. This is one of those two lane streets where it takes about five tries before you get through the light. Waiting....waiting.... Seemingly out of nowhere, a car comes barrelling behind me, almost out of control. I'm kind of stuck becacuse I'm in a long line of cars at a light and I didn't have much time to make any sort of quick move. I hear a slam into the rear of my car as this crazy car swerves around me and slams into the car in front of me. I can tell that car hit the car in front of it. My phone was in my purse which was in the back seat so I just start climbing backward trying to retrieve it when this man opens my door asking if I'm OK and my butt is basically in his face as I'm twisted around seats trying to find my phone to call 911. The crazy car driver gets out and starts running around crying. She looks about 20 and is acting like she's had 20 too many. The girl she hit could quite possibly be a trucker for a living, and she is none too happy. I just stand there amazed that I took the last amount of damage and realize that this is a rent car. A rent car I got because someone slammed into the back of me months ago. What are the odds? The person who slammed into the back of me months ago was about 16. Can I act old and know it all now and say "crazy kids?" Craptacular. Truly.

 

So the cops show up and it appears this girl is going to be arrested but not sure. I just give all of my information, and the cop feels bad for me because this is a rent car I've had one day and now I have to go get another rent car for my rent car. Read that sentence again. How crazy is that?

 

I get home later and the same cop calls to get some more information about my insurance and tells me that she was indeed taken in for suspicion of drunk driving and asked if I wanted to press any charges. I declined. He mentioned she was 22. Crazy kids. Her car and the one she hit both had to be towed. I still don't know how I managed to drive away from it with the speed she had. Neither did the cop. So now I'm on my way to work, but first stopping off at Enterprise where I will turn in my rent car for another rent car. I'm guessing that if this isn't that driver's fault then somehow it will be everyone's fault. I've heard it could go either way. I'm sure with my luck, it will be something like that.

 

So.... it's Wednesday. Bring it on.

 

 

11 a.m. dental visit for kids..... kids who brush their teeth every day because their mother is a dental hygiene nazi

Grand Total - 14 cavities (in one child... guess which one?) = $2,000 over the course of four appointments

 

12 p.m. .... lunch for children because they missed school lunches for dental appointment

Grand Total - Bill was only $23. However, the Exorcist-like tantrum thrown by pre-schooler, complete with throwing of corn dog nuggets across restaurant, kicking her sister, stealing her sister's food and throwing it, too, across restaurant, ripping up her sister's prized artwork (ok kld's menu) and making her cry, kicking her mother all the way out of the restaurant, scratching her mother in the face as she's buckling her in car seat....... = complete loss of sanity

 

1 p.m. .... take car to dealership because both back seatbelts are in shreds. Surely this is a defect. Seatbelts don't shred. Turns out, they do, when run through shitty car seats for four years, catching on something that caused them to slowly fall apart.

Grand Total = $350 per seat belt.

 

2 p.m..... take car for estimate on rear bumper from accident back in the summer (dumb kid) and decide might as well get the front fender bender I caused fixed as well in order to take advantage of rent car.

Grand Total = $795 for front bumper. But I get to drive a sweet Dodge Journey for a week. WTH is a Dodge Journey anyway? Then again I drive an Endeavor. What is the car "endeavoring" to do? Be a Mercedes? Why the hell do I care anyway? Next.

 

7 p.m..... Head to bar across the street for a glass of wine in sheer solitude to reflect on a perfectly shitty day. Lucky for you, I actually spared you some of the worst of it.

Grand Total = I'll let you know. Depends on how drunk I get.

 

The End.