Sunday, May 14, 2006


Been mowing and wondering what to write today. The problem isn't a lack of material (as I am an introvert and slightly crazy and have tons of conversations with the committee in my head.) No, the problem is how to narrow down the selection and then focus on that subject for at least a paragraph or three and without it turning into Moby Dick.

Hi, my name is Ishmael and I am an alcoholic.

I quit drinking on April 3, 1988. And I relapsed in October, 2004. I have so much drinking to make up for. That's a joke, I said, that's a joke, son.

So why did I relapse and why am I still drinking? How much space does Blogger allow? Not enough for the long version, so long story short - retail store, stress, Sweetie away, beer available, stress, awful neighbor and stalking, and stress. I will say that I drink differently than way back when in the bad old days.

Way back when, whilst married to the Pyg(malion) I was so miserable and unhappy and clueless that I drank in order to get through each day. At my worst, I chugged white wine before work, as much as I could without puking. Then I snuck vodka through the day (can't smell it, you know) and then drank beer in the evening. What a mess! I was lucky enough to not get caught or wreck the car and/or hurt others. I performed my job well and brushed my teeth twelve times a day. But I was a mess. Black outs, sex with strangers, and purity wildness. Manic/depressive, too. A tribute to my race, I was.

April 3, 1988 (I was 31 and it was Easter Sunday) I went to my first AA meeting and didn't drink again for a long, long time. I loved that group, the Dogwood Club in Atlanta. I got my shit together, learned how to live, and made peace with my cosmic muffin. Faced reality. I eventually left the Pyg, remarried and relocated, blah blah blah.

When I took a sip of beer two years back, I remembered that euphoria of a good beer buzz. Hello, Al ka Hol, my old and dear friend. Yes, now and again I drink too much. But I don't drink to live anymore. Of course, I live on that river in Egypt called deNial. And fuck it, I want to have a bit of booze in my life right now.

So there you have it. I'm not sorry except for the extra weight gained from the beer and menopause. I'm still cute. I still have my peace with the cosmic muffin. Life is short. I'm gonna live it like I mean it. What would you regret not doing or not having done if you got hit by a truck tomorrow? Think about it. Do it today.