Pad Thai Meltdown

I'm just not even sure where to begin.

I make it a rule to not mix alcohol with emotions. There are several reasons for this:

• I become overly sweet to the point of smothering.
• I become overly sassy to the point of ruining friendships.
• I become overly sad to the point of intense sobbing, often in public places.
• I become overly confrontational about important political topics. Examples of these topics include: why Britney and Justin never got back together; why Crossroads - the film debut of Britney Spears - is one of the most important films ever created; the types of cheese that are either appropriate or inappropriate when preparing mac and cheese; why Leo doesn't didn't deserve an Oscar. 
• I live in a state of 24 hour regret following whatever disaster of a person I chose to be the night before, facing the fact that I probably am the most basic.

Actual footage of me being basic. gif credit: Giffage

Despite this, breaking said rule is pretty much where this story began. I was in a particularly weird millennial place on Tuesday evening after work, mostly for reasons already discussed in this previous blog entry. And also this previous blog entry. But the Wikipedia version is:

• I miss the second family I had during graduate school. Yes, I'm still very much in touch with a lot of them, but we're scattered all over. YAY US. But also boo us. Being scattered is really difficult. Texting/calling/Skyping can only go so far. Sometimes you just need to be able to sit in the same room and w(h)ine about it.
• Lifetime Movie of the Month reasons.
• Cog in the machine mentality.
• Change, in general, of the last year.

I had already made plans with Craig to meet him at our favorite wine shop. Naturally, I wasn't about to disclose these feelings prior to imbibing because someone might want to try to stop the hot mess that was about to ensue, and I could not allow that. Upon my demands for a nice Cab Sauv, my friend Laura cautioned against me drinking red wine, because she (1) is a good friend and (2) knows that even on a good day my ingesting red wine results in behavior that gives Linda Blair's Exorcist performance a run for its Oscar nomination. Obviously, I resented her suggestion that I be cautious about my decision making skills and more or less said, "Pipe down and take my money you beautiful fermented grape goddess." (Sidenote: Laura would later buy me the adorable glass markers below)

I didn't know such beauty existed in this world.

We had a grand time drinking 18 bottles of wine.* I met some of Craig's lovely co-workers. I talked to my wonderful friend Deb (also a wine goddess) about cats, Greece, Italy, and how I was concerned about my red wine consumption turning me into the antichrist. Everything was fine. I had almost completely forgotten about the other crap. I was excited to go home with my husband, pick my cat's brain about the current state of our political system, have my dog fetch the shade I planned to throw at him, and enjoy a nice dinner prepared by Craig and possibly Papa John's. Life was good.

The scene: Our household. A cat is meowing because her parents forgot to feed her and because she has a lot of concerns whether a Republican president would remove her from our same sex household. She attempts to trip both of her parents by strategically moving in hourglass formation around their drunken ankles, because she'd rather just kill them both now and run for it instead of waiting for the Commander in Chief to do it. A peasant dog is doing his ritualistic dance to indicate he needs to go outside to do his business, even though he already dropped off some timber in front of the cat's litter box a some point earlier in the day. Meanwhile, a doting husband begins hunting for ingredients for dinner around the house.

Me: (slurring) Whaaaaat are you doing-UH?**

Craig: Trying to find stuff for Pad Thai. 

Now, I've never had a problem with Pad Thai. I actually love Pad Thai. Had I not reverted to the age of three, I would have happily enjoyed all the Pad Thai. I only mention this because things are about to escalate quickly.

I know it doesn't seem reasonable, but I lost my mind at the mention of Pad Thai and proceeded to have the full fledged meltdown of a toddler who just lost her tiara in Disney World.  I became so upset that I accused Craig of not putting enough thought into meal planning, and I think my head did a single 360 degree turn. Let me repeat: like an indignant/possessed hyena, I became so irrationally sad about the words "Pad Thai" that I started ugly crying because I don't like (1) the way Doting Husband is preparing our meal or (2) saving money and I REFUSED TO EAT THE MEAL. Luckily, Craig, the Patron Saint of Hot Messes, checks with me three times to confirm (1) he has not fallen into some kind of bizarro nightmare and (2) I actually do not want to take part in eating the meal. 

Like any normal person, I interpret these considerate questions to mean that Craig wants me to sleep on the couch, and so I take a blanket and pillow and sob loudly on the couch. Meanwhile, Grizabella has stopped meowing because she's like, "Okay, well, you're too unstable to handle scooping food out of a bag right now." Boots remained unaffected by the entire scene because, dog.

You guys.*** I had a Pad Thai Meltdown.

I won't get into the nitty gritty of the aftermath, but Craig eventually got me to talk to him about what was actually upsetting me because he hoped that I was rational enough to not actually be offended by Pad Thai. I divulged the information he wanted. I doubt he heard any of it through the ugly wailing that continued, but like any good husband he nodded his head, made some noises that indicated he pretended to understand, and then suggested I go to bed.

When it was all said and done at midnight, I asked the obvious question in the sweetest voice you can imagine: "Can you make me some Pad Thai?" 

I agree with you - too soon, Ryan, too soon. I ended up making nachos instead and went to sleep in a cholesterol induced coma.

There's a lot to unpack here macguffin-wise, so I'll just summarize it here:

1. I will not bottle up my feelings for the sake of others, because it's clearly not doing anyone any favors in the long run.
2. I will not drink red wine when I am feeling anything other than intense elation.
3. I will happily accept Pad Thai should Craig ever want to make it again. I REALLY DO LIKE PAD THAI.
4. This basic behavior has to stop.

Before I go, I wanted to thank everyone for their support of the blog thus far. Whether you're all just being super great friends or you actually enjoy reading it, I am so appreciative for all of you - whether you're reading, commenting, or sharing the blog, I can't thank you enough. I hope this one was a little less heavy, given the previous three installments. Sometimes the road to (ryan)vention is a dark and bumpy one. I love you all for taking this adventure with me.

Stay tuned.


*I am prone to exaggeration. I hope.
**When sassy, I tend to end all sentences with an extra syllable. This extra syllable is always "uh." Think of it as an audible period or exclamation point.
***Please excuse the non-gender inclusive language. Y'all just didn't feel right this time.