It is 4:41 PM Eastern time as I write this post. I tend to feel my most topic-ly inspired at this time of day in that it's the universal witching hour for the happy hour drunk. That guy or gal who's tapping their fingers on the work desk or counter top, watching the clock, counting the minutes until the acceptable hour of drinking has struck. Of course, for many of us, that obsession was a 'round the clock kind of thing; waiting wasn't an option. We drank when we needed to drink to satisfy the addiction.
I feel deeply for the happy hour drinker in that I can appreciate the mind set that accompanies their abuse. All across America right now there are bars filled or soon to be filled with patrons looking to unwind after the day's ass whooping. The perky new hire with her highlights and college diploma so new, the ink is barely dry on the paper. The married CPA with three kids under five back home with their mother, who holds court at the table for five and speaks so loudly and for so long that you wonder if he ever shuts up. The newly minted divorceé who approaches these liquid bitch sessions with her girlfriends with such abandon that you pity the man who comes within five feet of their table.
I refer to it as the shark tank.
I remember the feeling of hanging by a thread all day long, just to have the clock strike 5:00 PM and Ladies Night, Half Priced Appetizers, and Two for Tuesdays beckon me like a siren call from some distant shore. In my finely fitted suits and high heels, Camel Light dangling from my manicured hand, I thought I embodied the essence of working women everywhere. Head tossed back in feigned nonchalance as the hot hot hotty on the stool next to me bought me drinks and self loathing. I rarely left the bar feeling like a whole person. Ladies everywhere, if being honest enough with themselves, can recognize that kind of barstool prostitution.
Buy me enough drinks and I might let you grab my ass in the alcove by the restroom. I don't care if you have children.
At about this time every night, I send out a prayer to those still playing the game in the not-so-happy hours across the country. I am no longer there. I am no longer that girl.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
going gray
You would think that for a blogger who focuses on recovery related issues pretty much all of the time, that most keyword searches leading folks to my site would be about alcoholism and sobriety.
Nope.
Not even close.
Apparently my blog seems to keep popping up for letting hair go gray naturally.
Aaahhh. I have finally arrived. My 15 minutes. Better make the most of it.
I posted ohsobriefly in a Random Musings post 80 million years ago about deciding to let my hair go gray and now the blogoshpere won't let it go. Now I know that none of you have seen me in person or picture. Well, maybe a couple of you have, but I'm no Emmylou Harris. I have long dark brown/black hair with only a smidgen of gray in the front. Think: Stacy London of What Not To Wear.
I am in no way a Gray Diva or Siver Sister. But these keyword searches are wearing me down. I was hoping to sliiiiiide into gray. You know, kind of have it creep up on me until one day I'm a smokin' hot 50 something sporting a mane like Yasmina Rossi
Photo: Michael Waring/MORE Magazine
I feel like I should be giving the searchers something to hold on to. A picture (not likely). A weekly update on my gray progress (very little.) I'm struggling here. I'm conflicted.
I think the best I can do is a link. This is the site I follow for support and inspiration(my picture isn't up there either.)
I hope this helps.
Friday, April 24, 2009
no walk out tonight
Tonight's meeting was a 180° difference from last night. No leering men with auras of evil. No bad attitudes. Women were in attendance. Gabi to my right, D to my left. D is super cool and Gabi and I might have to get him blogging. He would fit in well with all the crazy alcoholics in cyberspace.
Tonight's topic was on ego.
Ego.
E-G-O
EGO
That's right I said ego. The whole "it's all about me" topic. Appropriate topic for me to share on in that I got asked recently why I still continue to go to meetings after all this time.
Hunh. Um, the coffee?
But it was a valid question because the truth is that my history is to let my ego get the best of me which seques nicely into me thinking I'm c-u-r-e-d which then ends up with me d-r-u-n-k.
Every.single.time.
So I continue to go to meetings to keep my ego right size and to work the Steps and work with others. Because I love me some newcomers AND there was a fresh new one in the meeting tonight, too. First meeting. Fresh out of the bottle. Hopeless. And not even court ordered! How about that? We got her some numbers, I bought her a Big Book, and directed her to the Women's Meeting in the same room on Monday night.
And THAT is my night in review.
Tonight's topic was on ego.
Ego.
E-G-O
EGO
That's right I said ego. The whole "it's all about me" topic. Appropriate topic for me to share on in that I got asked recently why I still continue to go to meetings after all this time.
Hunh. Um, the coffee?
But it was a valid question because the truth is that my history is to let my ego get the best of me which seques nicely into me thinking I'm c-u-r-e-d which then ends up with me d-r-u-n-k.
Every.single.time.
So I continue to go to meetings to keep my ego right size and to work the Steps and work with others. Because I love me some newcomers AND there was a fresh new one in the meeting tonight, too. First meeting. Fresh out of the bottle. Hopeless. And not even court ordered! How about that? We got her some numbers, I bought her a Big Book, and directed her to the Women's Meeting in the same room on Monday night.
And THAT is my night in review.
I walked out
I walked out of the Speaker Meeting last night. Not during the Speaker. Before he had even started. I feel terrible about it and after posting about how excited I was to be able to attend that meeting when I'm normally working, well, I feel kind of like a schmuck. But I actually feared for my safety. I tried sitting it out but with each passing minute the feeling of unrest continued to grow. I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
I was the only woman in a big auditorium full of men; several of whom leered at me when I walked in. It was a rough crowd and never before in my long history (20 years) with AA have I ever felt scared, but this group did it. I know from past experiences with this meeting that many of the attendees are from the men's transitional house across the street and oftentimes are not the most respectful of meeting goers. And while I have never had a problem with them at the meetings that they host at the recovery home, at the Speaker meeting they can act crass.
I will attempt another meeting tonight at an earlier time with Gabi and hopefully one with some better manners.
I was the only woman in a big auditorium full of men; several of whom leered at me when I walked in. It was a rough crowd and never before in my long history (20 years) with AA have I ever felt scared, but this group did it. I know from past experiences with this meeting that many of the attendees are from the men's transitional house across the street and oftentimes are not the most respectful of meeting goers. And while I have never had a problem with them at the meetings that they host at the recovery home, at the Speaker meeting they can act crass.
I will attempt another meeting tonight at an earlier time with Gabi and hopefully one with some better manners.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Score!
It's not the spa but I'll take it anyway. While the husband is goooone, the kids will be going to their grandparents starting tomorrow afternoon. I will need to work over the next few days and we don't have a babysitter on retainer, so off to Ohio they go. They will be missed, but sweet mother of mercy I desperately need the time to myself. I am in dire need of a continuous 24 hours of freedom from obligation. On the agenda:
- Stop off and purchase supply of essential oils and herbs from purveyor in Huntington and be able to linger over tea and conversation without having to remove retail items from the hands of curious youth.
- Dinner that may very well involve a menu that does not include the words 'nugget' or 'macaroni.'
- Listen to all of Colin Hay on CD without having to run intervention on the fight that will not break out in the back seat.
- Attendance at 8:00 PM Speaker Meeting where I may very well have two cups of coffee (!) being as how I won't be required to wake at the crack of dawn to escort the youngins' to school.
- While I'm at it, maybe even coffee AFTER the meeting. I'm out of control now.
This is only Thursday's agenda; Friday and Saturday are still up for grabs. I have no idea what I'm going to do with myself. Any thoughts?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Oy, Mama needs a vakay big time. Not a "let's pack the youngins' into the camper car, hon, and head on over to Myrtle for the weekend" kind of vacation. No. I'm talking about a serious by-my-lonesome spa retreat where I'm massaged twice daily and all my meals are cooked and served by people other than myself.
Mr. Kristin H. is heading out on the highway and skyway for a trip to Palinville and then back down to the lower 48 for a week in Tennessee and then back out to D.C. and then Tennessee again.....
When I'm this tired and bored I begin to do strange things.
Mr. Kristin H. is heading out on the highway and skyway for a trip to Palinville and then back down to the lower 48 for a week in Tennessee and then back out to D.C. and then Tennessee again.....
When I'm this tired and bored I begin to do strange things.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
hamburger cake
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
sobriety as a verb
Got out of work last night in enough time to catch the 8:00 PM Speaker Meeting downtown. I am so grateful that I did. I saw who I needed to see and spoke to people I needed to speak with. Funny how that happens, yes?
There was a gaggle of oldtimers staying sober on the far end of the room and at meeting's end, when the medallions were given, one recipient (29 years!) pointed to the table and stated that within the following weeks each member at that oldtimers table will be receiving a chip. One gentleman will have 46 years. 46 years. It works if you work it. Most of the gentlemen were within a couple of weeks of each other and I commented to the fellow next to me that they all must have rolled out of the bar and into a meeting at the same time. It works if you work it.
The speaker last night was an on-the-fly speaker. He was chosen at the last minute and didn't have anything prepared. His story was compelling nonetheless and I hung on his every word. I've noticed within the last few months that he had been having a lot of problems with his serenity and perpetual anger had been chipping away at his normal sober exuberance. Last night he was back to his old self and emphasized the power of prayer in his recovery. It works if you work it.
Fridays used to be filled with all the planning for weekend drinking and drugging. Only to be capped off with remorse and self loathing by Sunday evening. I am grateful to no longer be in that space.
Merriam-Webster lists sobriety as a noun. I believe it's a verb. An Into Action word. It works if you work it.
There was a gaggle of oldtimers staying sober on the far end of the room and at meeting's end, when the medallions were given, one recipient (29 years!) pointed to the table and stated that within the following weeks each member at that oldtimers table will be receiving a chip. One gentleman will have 46 years. 46 years. It works if you work it. Most of the gentlemen were within a couple of weeks of each other and I commented to the fellow next to me that they all must have rolled out of the bar and into a meeting at the same time. It works if you work it.
The speaker last night was an on-the-fly speaker. He was chosen at the last minute and didn't have anything prepared. His story was compelling nonetheless and I hung on his every word. I've noticed within the last few months that he had been having a lot of problems with his serenity and perpetual anger had been chipping away at his normal sober exuberance. Last night he was back to his old self and emphasized the power of prayer in his recovery. It works if you work it.
Fridays used to be filled with all the planning for weekend drinking and drugging. Only to be capped off with remorse and self loathing by Sunday evening. I am grateful to no longer be in that space.
Merriam-Webster lists sobriety as a noun. I believe it's a verb. An Into Action word. It works if you work it.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Step Four
Have you ever noticed that no matter how far you try to run from reality, that it always has a way of sneaking back around and biting you on the ass? An ever present pest or annoyance that simply won't disappear no matter how far down the ostrich hole we try to cram our heads?
I'm gearing up to tackle the topic of Step Four over at SoberMoms and am preparing myself for the ghost town of non commentary that I am sure will present itself as I attempt a discussion on this very important Step. No matter how far up and down the scale of sobriety one might travel, Step Four needs to be done. To prance around it or pretend it doesn't exist is a set up for the bitch slap of reality that will come to haunt every recovering person in a Twelve Step program. Step Four and Five is the metaphorical trash day in recovery. You can move dust and rubble around in your house all you want, but unless you package up the debris and set it out by the roadside for pick-up, then you are only working a fraction of a program.
I sat in a meeting some weeks back and listened to a newcomer share about her present struggles. She was a well-to-do bar owner from town who crossed the country for treatment because she needed the best psychiatric and addiction treatment possible. She was doing well on the West Coast and was truly happy...on the West Coast. But her home, friends, and family were back East and she could no longer ignore the wreckage of her past. She came back to deal with this wreckage and was, quite frankly, a wreck herself. I could tell that she had been dealing with her personal inventory back at her sober living home was prepared to confront her demons. I gave her a ride back to her loft after the meeting and after giving her my number, wished her well on what was probably her Ninth Step in progress. She was eager to be done with her hometown baggage. Wished to rid herself of the pain and move on in recovery. I have yet to hear from her but I pray that it all worked out well.
I'm not a fan of public displays of Fourth Steps. You won't hear me do one in a meeting or post it on the blog. But to kick start SoberMoms April topic of Step Four, I encourage all newcomers to develop a mindset of courageousness and faith, that by completing Step Four and Five we will know a new peace in recovery and be bolstered with the strength to move on with our progress as sober people. There is only a limited amount of time that we can circumvent the obvious and thus begin to pull our heads out of the sand and confront our realities.
I'm gearing up to tackle the topic of Step Four over at SoberMoms and am preparing myself for the ghost town of non commentary that I am sure will present itself as I attempt a discussion on this very important Step. No matter how far up and down the scale of sobriety one might travel, Step Four needs to be done. To prance around it or pretend it doesn't exist is a set up for the bitch slap of reality that will come to haunt every recovering person in a Twelve Step program. Step Four and Five is the metaphorical trash day in recovery. You can move dust and rubble around in your house all you want, but unless you package up the debris and set it out by the roadside for pick-up, then you are only working a fraction of a program.
I sat in a meeting some weeks back and listened to a newcomer share about her present struggles. She was a well-to-do bar owner from town who crossed the country for treatment because she needed the best psychiatric and addiction treatment possible. She was doing well on the West Coast and was truly happy...on the West Coast. But her home, friends, and family were back East and she could no longer ignore the wreckage of her past. She came back to deal with this wreckage and was, quite frankly, a wreck herself. I could tell that she had been dealing with her personal inventory back at her sober living home was prepared to confront her demons. I gave her a ride back to her loft after the meeting and after giving her my number, wished her well on what was probably her Ninth Step in progress. She was eager to be done with her hometown baggage. Wished to rid herself of the pain and move on in recovery. I have yet to hear from her but I pray that it all worked out well.
I'm not a fan of public displays of Fourth Steps. You won't hear me do one in a meeting or post it on the blog. But to kick start SoberMoms April topic of Step Four, I encourage all newcomers to develop a mindset of courageousness and faith, that by completing Step Four and Five we will know a new peace in recovery and be bolstered with the strength to move on with our progress as sober people. There is only a limited amount of time that we can circumvent the obvious and thus begin to pull our heads out of the sand and confront our realities.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Twilight is not Conference approved literature
Ok. Call me crazy (you wouldn't be the first,) but I may be the first person out here that has read the entire Twilight saga (movie too) and relates to it on a level much deeper than anything Stephenie Meyer could have imagined. I'm a sucker for pop culture and had to read the books the moment I heard of their popularity. Also, as a mother to two girls, I try to stay abreast of all things "now." Mama likes to know what the kids are into these days. Which is more than I could say for my own parents 3o years ago. But that's a different post.
Here we go: Twilight's Cullen family vampires symbolize the inner struggle and social outcasting of the alcoholic.
Whaaaaa????
That's right. In the Twilight saga, the Cullen family is a centuries old clan of vampires living and working within the tiny town of Forks, Washington; the cloudiest, rainiest region in the continental U.S. thereby allowing them to move about during the daytime without being exposed for what they really are. These particular vampires don't perish in the sun, their skin simply glitters as if diamonds are impended in their skin.
But the Cullens don't drinkalcohol human blood. They feel a moral and ethical obligation to their human neighbors and choose to abstain from drinking human blood. Instead they exist solely on the blood of animals.
But occasionally they do relapse....follow over at TSR.
Here we go: Twilight's Cullen family vampires symbolize the inner struggle and social outcasting of the alcoholic.
Whaaaaa????
That's right. In the Twilight saga, the Cullen family is a centuries old clan of vampires living and working within the tiny town of Forks, Washington; the cloudiest, rainiest region in the continental U.S. thereby allowing them to move about during the daytime without being exposed for what they really are. These particular vampires don't perish in the sun, their skin simply glitters as if diamonds are impended in their skin.
But the Cullens don't drink
But occasionally they do relapse....follow over at TSR.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
some thoughts (as if you care)
I vastly prefer dimly lit AA meetings with comfortable couches, piping hot coffee, and cookies. I'm hedonistic that way.
Brightly lit church rec rooms with stale snacks and folding chairs remind me of jail.
Sometimes I'm tempted to say something really shocking and inappropriate in meetings just to see if anyone is listening. But I never do.
This month marks 10 years that my husband and I have been together (married for 7.5 of them.)
On our first date I got hammered and blacked out about 3/4 of the way through. I am 99.9 % sure that I said or did something inappropriate that night.
Apparently he didn't mind ;)
I was attracted to his highly advanced education and his love of Slayer and Motorhead.
I put about 6 packs of Trident gum in my five year old's Easter basket and she chewed through four of them by 11:00 AM. Zero self restraint. Kind of like me back in the day.
I'm thinking of going back to Dr. Bob's House in July or August. Anybody want to meet up?
I know Steve E. will respond to that. He wants to meet all his blogalicious friends right now.
I should have been a Biology major.
My husband loves all the crappy old school candy like Bottle Caps, Necco Wafers, Chick-O Stix, Boston Baked Beans, and Maple Nut Goodies. I didn't realize that it was possible to have such bad taste in treats. Seriously, it must be a midwest thing.
However, if I had been a Biology major I wouldn't have met my husband. He was my Criminology professor my last quarter in college. See how that worked out?
I make the best breakfasts on earth. If I don't open Jilli Java & The Garden of Eden then I might open a small breakfast/brunch restaurant downtown. I will keep a room available in the back for early morning AA meetings.
Out of the thousands of cities that have shown up on my Sitemeter, I have never once seen Bakersfield, CA. I spent 10 years there and got sober there three times. The last time stuck. Are there not any sober bloggers in Bakersfield?
I don't consider myself a very judgemental person, but I can't help looking in other people's grocery carts and passing judgement. "Ah, poor dude, he really needs to give up the white bread, Pepsi, and Cheetos. He would look and feel SO much better." Gah! Whatever. As if I'm in any position to judge.
I love newcomers to AA. Absolutely love them. I will never forget what it was like to be a newcomer.
I am officially 8.5 years sober this month.
I am going to figure out a way to bake a cake in the shape of our AA Serenity symbol. I may just have to bake circles and then carve the cake up to look like the circle triangle.
I need to go empty the dishwasher. Talk to you all later.
Brightly lit church rec rooms with stale snacks and folding chairs remind me of jail.
Sometimes I'm tempted to say something really shocking and inappropriate in meetings just to see if anyone is listening. But I never do.
This month marks 10 years that my husband and I have been together (married for 7.5 of them.)
On our first date I got hammered and blacked out about 3/4 of the way through. I am 99.9 % sure that I said or did something inappropriate that night.
Apparently he didn't mind ;)
I was attracted to his highly advanced education and his love of Slayer and Motorhead.
I put about 6 packs of Trident gum in my five year old's Easter basket and she chewed through four of them by 11:00 AM. Zero self restraint. Kind of like me back in the day.
I'm thinking of going back to Dr. Bob's House in July or August. Anybody want to meet up?
I know Steve E. will respond to that. He wants to meet all his blogalicious friends right now.
I should have been a Biology major.
My husband loves all the crappy old school candy like Bottle Caps, Necco Wafers, Chick-O Stix, Boston Baked Beans, and Maple Nut Goodies. I didn't realize that it was possible to have such bad taste in treats. Seriously, it must be a midwest thing.
However, if I had been a Biology major I wouldn't have met my husband. He was my Criminology professor my last quarter in college. See how that worked out?
I make the best breakfasts on earth. If I don't open Jilli Java & The Garden of Eden then I might open a small breakfast/brunch restaurant downtown. I will keep a room available in the back for early morning AA meetings.
Out of the thousands of cities that have shown up on my Sitemeter, I have never once seen Bakersfield, CA. I spent 10 years there and got sober there three times. The last time stuck. Are there not any sober bloggers in Bakersfield?
I don't consider myself a very judgemental person, but I can't help looking in other people's grocery carts and passing judgement. "Ah, poor dude, he really needs to give up the white bread, Pepsi, and Cheetos. He would look and feel SO much better." Gah! Whatever. As if I'm in any position to judge.
I love newcomers to AA. Absolutely love them. I will never forget what it was like to be a newcomer.
I am officially 8.5 years sober this month.
I am going to figure out a way to bake a cake in the shape of our AA Serenity symbol. I may just have to bake circles and then carve the cake up to look like the circle triangle.
I need to go empty the dishwasher. Talk to you all later.
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
"What is 'wine'?
My six year old knows what alcoholism is. She is nearly seven but she has known since early six what alcoholism is. And she knows that her mother is al-go-hol-ick. The five year old calls it alcoholico. Kind of like calico but not.
I made the decision to begin speaking of my condition in plain terms about the time that they became aware of the drug and alcohol induced nonsense on our street. They were puzzled as to why people would bother using such substances when it made them act so crazy. Ah, sweet darling, I'm still wondering the same thing.
They know that when Mommy meets Gabi or Annie or Terri for a birthday, that it's a different kind of birthday. One that is a big deal in more ways than one. They know about the special medallions that we give and get. And they want one too. No you don't.
The six nearly seven year old needed the condition explained in a way that only her little mind could comprehend. I told her that alcohol is to Mommy the way that candy is to her little sissy. That baby sister wants candy all of the time and when she eats it, it goes straight to her head. And she becomes impossible to deal with. And once she starts eating it, it is hard for her to stop. So Mommy rarely lets baby sister eat candy. Some roads are simply better off not traveled.
They understand that alcohol for people of Mommy's kind is not a good thing. For this understanding I am grateful.
Yesterday found us at our Farmer's Market Wine and Cheese Shoppe where I purchased a highly indulgent wedge of aged white cheddar for pre-dinner snacking. My six year old looked about at the shop and said, "What is 'wine?'
"Wine is alcohol," I responded matter of fact.
The understanding of that statement registered in her little face and she did not feel the need to ask any more questions.
The man behind the counter stated to her, "You don't need to worry about that for a long time."
To which I replied as we walked away, "Her mother is alcoholic, let's hope she never has to worry about it ever."
For this I pray.
I made the decision to begin speaking of my condition in plain terms about the time that they became aware of the drug and alcohol induced nonsense on our street. They were puzzled as to why people would bother using such substances when it made them act so crazy. Ah, sweet darling, I'm still wondering the same thing.
They know that when Mommy meets Gabi or Annie or Terri for a birthday, that it's a different kind of birthday. One that is a big deal in more ways than one. They know about the special medallions that we give and get. And they want one too. No you don't.
The six nearly seven year old needed the condition explained in a way that only her little mind could comprehend. I told her that alcohol is to Mommy the way that candy is to her little sissy. That baby sister wants candy all of the time and when she eats it, it goes straight to her head. And she becomes impossible to deal with. And once she starts eating it, it is hard for her to stop. So Mommy rarely lets baby sister eat candy. Some roads are simply better off not traveled.
They understand that alcohol for people of Mommy's kind is not a good thing. For this understanding I am grateful.
Yesterday found us at our Farmer's Market Wine and Cheese Shoppe where I purchased a highly indulgent wedge of aged white cheddar for pre-dinner snacking. My six year old looked about at the shop and said, "What is 'wine?'
"Wine is alcohol," I responded matter of fact.
The understanding of that statement registered in her little face and she did not feel the need to ask any more questions.
The man behind the counter stated to her, "You don't need to worry about that for a long time."
To which I replied as we walked away, "Her mother is alcoholic, let's hope she never has to worry about it ever."
For this I pray.
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