There’s the famous Nick Nolte mug shot, taken after a particularly fine night of driving under the influence:
And then there’s the photo Groom took of me yesterday when he was setting up a backdrop and stool for his latest digital photography class assignment of “taking portraits.” Trust me, I wasn’t his true subject. Before the real guy showed up, I was simply helping him take some sample shots so he could judge the lighting. We quickly realized that my glasses were creating a glare, so I dropped those.
The rest of the “My, my, but it looks as though Jocelyn’s been driving under the influence” shot, however, comes from a crazy week of being here-and-there (woefully all too sober) topped by Paco getting a virulent case of strep throat that had him up in the night, rounded out by Groom’s grandmother passing away. Death in the family + lack of sleep + sick kid + husband who has a kajillion projects due in his classes next week =
Since my Clyde is still home from school today, I have to bid you a slightly-slurred Adieu and stagger over to the fridge to prep his next dose of amoxycillin,
looking longingly at the bottle of Riesling in the door as I do.
At least I know, deep in my greasy, unwashed, sleep-deprived heart,
that somewhere, in the early-morning hours, near the sound of waves crashing onto a beach,
Nick is tossing back a shot for me.