Sex Toys and Other Drunken Bad Decisions

I'm back in the land of the living. It's official. I've been in a dark hole peering out at those around me doing my best to act like one of them, but internally just wanting to crawl into a ball and sleep it off. I don't know what I'd be sleeping off, but somehow I just felt like sleep would make it all better. But a normal person doesn't get enough sleep when they have a baby, so I just pulled myself together and limped through the day.

Last Thursday I found out my favorite cousin had died. He had seen me grow up, and most of my memories from my childhood involve him. I use the word cousin loosely--he was actually my dad's cousin, so he treated me like a niece. He was funny, silly, loving, and (always important to an 8-year-old) semi-famous. He, as well as his father and brothers, were professional wrestlers. His youngest brother, Brian, was way more famous than he was, but he was and is widely regarded as one of the most under-appreciated wrestlers in the history of the sport. He was known for always making his opponents look way better than the actually were. But to me, my cousin was just Brad. Not Brad Armstrong, or "BA" or "Buzzkill," just Brad.

**For the record, yes I know pro-wrestling is "fake". So are sitcoms, plays, and movies. It's a form of entertainment and a lot of the people who take part in it are skilled entertainers who just happen to choose a different medium than most. I am not a wrestling fan, but I respect the talent it requires.

Respect the Mullet

Brad introduced me to habachi food. He called me and impersonated cartoon characters, actors, and sometimes character of his own invention just to make me giggle. He gave me a Dr. Seuss book, Oh the Places You'll Go, for my highs school graduation. He was the only person who didn't give me cash, and I still his that book. Recently he worked at a nutrition store next door to my tanning salon, and I'd pop in and say hello. He was always authentically glad to see me. There was always a hug hello and an "I love you" instead of goodbye. He was the most authentically kind person I had ever met, and he wasn't just that way with his family; he was that way with everyone. Everyone at the funeral said Brad was their best friend, and I believe he sincerely was.

My cousin's death was not the cause of my downward spiral; it was more of the rock bottom point. The day I found out about his death, I comforted myself with as many vices as I could legally get a hold of. I ate fried comfort food all day, and after Jackson's swim lessons, I made my husband go to the liquor store. That night I got drunker than I had been since I got pregnant. Did you know Evan William's has an apple cider? 1 minute in the microwave and it's Christmas in a bottle! Since my husband is the ever supportive man that he is, he of course got drunk with me.

I had been toying (no pun intended) with the idea of selling Pure Romance products for a while, but somehow, in our drunken state, this plan came to fruition. Did I get the small, conservative starter package? Oh no. At my husband's urging, I got the Mack Daddy, "Platinum" starter kit that includes almost $4000 worth of product. But, as my husband said about 82 times within an hour, he believed in my ability to make this a thriving business. No pressure.

While I was waiting for my plethora of sex toys and accessories to arrive, I attended my cousin's funeral. It was my first funeral for someone I was close to. It was kind of interesting--most of the attendees were pro-wrestlers from past and present, so there were a lot of gimmicky looking people wandering around. There was an Elvis look alike, a "wolfman," etc. The eulogies really hit home with me: story after story of Brad's kindness, humor, love, and charity made me realize that he's dead and the only thing I can do is honor his memory and his life by learning from it and showing everyone the kind of love he showed people. Pure, honest, authentic, child-like love.

I woke up this morning with a mission in my heart and a package at my door. A forty pound package of dildos to be exact. So I didn't vote today. I was busy inventorying arousal creams and vibrating cock rings and spending time with my baby. Because not only do I want to live my life the way Brad lived his, but I want my son to turn out to be as kind and honestly good as Brad was.