Tonight I ate four pieces of pizza and no one judged me. I nursed a glass of wine in jeans and a sweatshirt after tagging along on a trip to Fleet Farm for dog food. I bitched and complained and moaned and commiserated, and now that I'm home, I feel 10 pounds lighter. I spent the last few hours with Mandy, which doesn't happen too regularly these days, but it was overdue. We had things to catch up on. Who got married? Who had a baby? Have you seen so-and-so? Did you hear what she did? And once we caught up on the obligatory he-said/she-saids of our lives, we had our own lives to prattle on about. 

I feel like it's been weeks since I've just unleashed. Said what needs to be said, admitted feelings I hide in my pockets, spoke out loud the thoughts I won't type on the Internet. Somewhere in there I took a breath or two, but wow, it was fabulous. 

Mandy does not judge me, which is kind of perfect because it's easy to judge. She knew me at 20-years-old and she knows me now. The older, wiser version, of course. If I were to write an uncensored blog, she would be the person I'd allow to read it. My uncensored blog person.

There are too many people with whom I can't share my every thought. He will judge, or she will get offended, or they won't understand, or she's a bitch. You know, those people.

Everyone needs an uncensored blog person. 

I am not a perfect person. I've got debt, I tried marriage once, unsuccessfully, I had a career that is now in the toilet, there are tattoos on my body and bitter thoughts in my mind. The uncensored version of me does not sit on a pedestal. Sometimes she needs to be let outside to go to the bathroom. 

And I feel better now.