It's a Friday night and I'm out of sorts.

I was invited to go downtown to watch an outdoor movie -- "Rear Window." I declined. Even though it's my favorite Hitchcock flick.
I was invited to drive to Ft McKavett to a friend's ranch for the weekend. Again, I declined.
I was invited to Austin to sing at a party at one of my most favorite guy-friend's lake house. And yes, I declined that too.

For tonight, I am throwing an extraordinarily rare pity party. Yep, a 'poooor Angeline' original. Party for one.

As a lone naked party girl, I will drape myself across my big leather chaise and begin the night's three course dinner. It includes the appetizer: peach champagne ice cream. Main course: Michter's 10 year bourbon on ice. Dessert: If I make it to dessert before passing out, I just may have me a cigar. Mind you, it is wrapped with "It's a boy!" and has aged 13 years.

Trouble in mind:
My 15 year old is turning into a satan spawn. The fat from the few bites of ice cream that I've consumed in the last minute is doing weird things to my stomach already. My husband - or maybe soon to be ex-husband, may be very sidk and is on my insurance so I can't finalize the divorce. I'm taking care of him out of guilt. I have an 'empty canvas' for a back yard and no money to fill it. In fact, I have no money period and I have to admit, I may not be as nearly materialistic as most women I know, but I have flipping champagne tastes and like to have decent running shoes and hiking boots and lingerie and artsy stuff and need a lot of maintenance done on my house. Zach and Dillon need braces, and they all need school clothes and supplies. I have a younger guy who is pretty much stalking me -- and he has money -- but I've never been able to whore myself out and I'm certainly not starting at forty-five with a thirty year old -- and damnit, I wish I could. My best friend's husband hits on my shamelessly and it makes me sick. My 'little sister' Tara has been missing all summer since her drug addict mother came back in the picture and I'm sick about it. There is a man who lives on the other side of the globe who has piqued my interest terribly but it's all running hot and cold and hot and cold and now mostly cold
My trip to Denver was wonderful and I wonder 'why not' -- but I've known 'why not' all along. Have I said the trim on my house needs painting and I really need to replace the back doors?

Now I feel obligated to acknowledge everything that is good in my life because that's the way my mind works. BUT I REFUSE. One doesn't do that at a pity party.

So, what am I to do now? Take some Little Feat advice and

". . .write a letter and send it away and put all the trouble in it you had today."

Yes, then let it go.

(See?? I'm not good at holding onto things, therefore; not an effective pity party princess.)

Damn it.