Little Love Story #5: "Being a Good Hostess"

Once upon a time, two girls went to Washington DC around midnight. One was getting married the next day; the other had flown cross-country to sing at the wedding. They were bringing a friend to the metro station, but the bride-to-be decided that on her first trip to DC, her friend should at least see the Capitol Building. "If we get off by the Smithsonian and walk a block or two, you'll be able to see the dome." They got off at their stop and headed down the street. After a few blocks, the bride-to-be had a revelation: she had done this in winter, when the trees were bare. This was August; the trees were obscuring the view. They walked three miles, but they finally saw the Capitol Building! Exhausted, they went home, arriving with barely 4 hours to sleep before the wedding. The girl declared the bride-to-be The Best Friend EVER.

Little Love Story #4: "I Want Candy"

Once upon a time, a girl and two Canadians were playing a video game together. The girl and one of the Canadians...well, they were having an off night. But the other was kicking ass. In the midst of a particularly successful match, he declared "I am tearing it UP tonight! Must be because I got my hombres with me!" The girl said "Ooh, I've never been anybody's hombre before!" to which he replied "What IS an hombre, anyhow?" The other Canadian explained "I think it's a type of piñata." "Yeah," the first cheered, "I got my piñatas with me!" The girl found so much delight in this. One particularly difficult day, one of the Canadians texted her just in time to offer some much-needed advice and support. She praised his ability to know just when she needed rescue. "I'm no superman," he insisted, "just a magical piñata."

Lucky Number Seven.

I don't believe in luck, or coincidence, or accidents - aside from the kind like I had yesterday when I hit myself in the head with my car door. So the fact that today marks seven months sober isn't particularly auspicious, aside from the sense of accomplishment that comes with knowing I made it another month.

And it hasn't been a good one, in terms of my sobriety. It's not just the depression, or the near-relapse. It's just the voice in my head, louder and more constant than ever. The voice that insists that I'm NOT an alcoholic, I just had a bad year last year. The voice that assures me that I can drink again, that it won't hurt anything, and wouldn't it be nice to have a break for a little while, to not have to think or feel so much? My addiction and my depression are forming an alliance and the battle is exhausting. But I'm protected by the love and support of my friends and my faith in God, so I know I'll survive.

Little Love Story #3: "Fifty Cents"

Once upon a time, there was a girl who avoided any kind of romance fiction, because she was certain it was all just make-believe and never happened in the real world. She loved video games, though, and one of her favorite games had the sweetest love story she'd ever heard. Even though she claimed to hate romance, she couldn't resist the beauty of the story, and she thought of it often. Several months after she heard the story for the first time, a very special man gave her a very special gift, and the words he said to her were so much like those from her favorite love story that it made the girl feel like the fair heroine of her own great adventure. She learned that day that romance isn't about the happy ending, but about the epic moments that make one's heart soar. It's a lesson she'll never forget.

There's no place like home.

So we made it to Kansas, and it only took like TWICE AS LONG AS EXPECTED.

Friday was awesome. I got to visit some dear friends of the family and hang out with my baby sister and future brother in law. I love those kids more than anything. I think the highlight was dancing to Journey in the car.

So the three of us hung out until 2 AM, then they went home and I went to bed. Till 4 AM. *I* was packed and ready to roll by 5:30, but mama took her sweet time, so we didn't leave till 7.

She drove the 2 hours to Flagstaff...except a few miles south of Flagstaff, they closed the road. 6 car pileup. Said we'd be delayed for several hours. So we turned around and went back.

So, 4 hours on the road and we're...right back where we started, resigning ourselves to take the I-10 clear down to Tucson and through WAY more Texas than we want and then Oklahoma City and up into Kansas. So, I bust out the atlas and determine that we can take the 60 from Phoenix to Socorro, New Mexico and then up to Albuquerque to catch the 40. Mama puts her faith in my navigational abilities and we go for it.

At this point, I need a nap, so I doze off for about half an hour. I wake up as mama's getting off the freeway. She's nodding off; she figures we can nap for an hour. I volunteer to take over, I feel fine.

And here comes an important lesson:

It's not about where the road goes. It's about how it gets there.

Sure, the 60 took us to Albuquerque...but it did so through winding, snowy mountain roads. I keep saying "We've got to be almost out of the mountains!" and next thing I know, we're crossing the Continental Divide. And while I've NEVER driven in the mountains before, I have more experience driving in snow, so I do all the driving. Ten hours worth. On 2 hours of sleep. Bitching, raging, and shaking my fist about how there shouldn't be snow in APRIL. And there's NO cars on the road, probably because all the other drivers were smart enough not to go that way. And I can't use cruise control because the roads are slick.

Naturally, when it's pitch black and 25 degrees and snowing and windy and we're a billion miles from civilization...Princess Tiny Bladder here gets the call of nature. Let's just say I did my business and it was quite unpleasant and we'll never speak of it again.

We finally got out of the snow, out of the mountains, and out of Arizona. When we hit Socorro, mama wanted to stop for the night. I made with the atlasing again and determined that we were a mere hour's drive from Albuquerque and the 40. But my tailbone is in agony, I can't keep sitting. I beg mama to please please please drive the hour to Albuquerque so we can stay there for the night. I promise to stay awake with her, and I do, and we bed down in Albuquereque for the night, and it's sublime because I got to sleep and stretch out and things like that which I used to take for granted.

Sunday morning, fueled by a fruit and maple oatmeal from Mickey D's, we set out, with mama behind the wheel. We inadvertently made the proverbial wrong turn at Albuquerque, Bugs Bunny style. So we set out again, and got it right this time. It was all clear blue skies, wide open spaces, and smooth sailing...till it was time to pick up the 54 in Tucumcari.

There's ONE sign telling you which exit to take for the 54. And once you take that exit...nothing. You hit a 4-way stop and they don't tell you which way to go. So it took us three tries to go the right way. Dear New Mexico: fix your shit.

I fell asleep toward the end of Texas and snoozed all the way through the Oklahoma panhandle. Mama stopped in Liberal to let me take over since we were in my home state, even though I've never been through western Kansas. No sooner do I pull out of the gas station but I stop and shout "I think those cows are crossing the road!"

They were dogs. Not even really big dogs. I just...yeah, I got nothing. Herp da derp.

Anyhow, the remainder of the drive was without incident, and we rolled into Newton around midnight. We should be moving into our rental house tomorrow!

Little Love Story #2: "The Great Outdoors"

Once upon a time, a little boy of almost three was out with his mom when they saw - and smelled - the remains of a roadkill skunk. "He can't walk anymore?" the boy asked, too young to understand death. His mother explained to him that no, the skunk had been hit by a car and it was game over, and that's why the boy had to stay off the road, so he didn't get hit by a car. The boy looked from his mom, to the skunk, then back to his mom. "If he didn't stink," the boy inquired, "could I fix him with my love?"
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

What a girl wants.

In my time off from dating, I've been thinking about how prone I am to settling for less than I want. Any port in a storm, eh? Someday I will date again, and if I jump into that melee without a clear concept of what I'm looking for, I will surely find naught but failure and disappointment.

That being said, I'm making a hard and fast list of things I positively require in a future partner. No more settling for this girl. If I can't find someone who meets my needs, I'm better off alone.

* Sense of humor. This is a must. Anything you can't laugh at can kill you. I don't take life too seriously, nor could I be happy with anyone who does.

* Intelligence. I like to have worthwhile conversations, not on rare occasions, but frequently.

* Open-mindedness. Those worthwhile conversations are occasionally about the zombie apocalypse, religion, aliens, predestination, omens, and other things that overly-practical people don't get.

* Spirituality. My faith is very important to me and I need someone I can share that with. I don't necessarily need to pray before every meal or anything, but I want someone I can pray with when times are tough.

* Commitment to personal growth. I strive to be constantly learning and growing, and if my partner isn't growing with me, I will outgrow the relationship.

* Geekiness. It's not just about being a gamer, either. It's about being able to use "teh" and "lol" and "fail" and "win" in everyday conversation. It's about debating the ins and outs of surviving the zombie apocalypse. Nerd stuff like that.

* Energy. I'm a very animated person. I'm loud. I'm talkative. I'm hyperactive. I need someone who's on my level, who can compete with me, otherwise I'm too much and they're not enough. Goofing around is what keeps me sane, and I need someone who will not just tolerate me making an ass of myself in the name of fun, but who will be right there with me.

* Patience. I'm bright, but I'm also derpy and inept. I need someone who won't blow up at me when I lock my keys in my car for the third time in a month, or when I inadvertently start a small kitchen fire, or when I back over the garbage can.

* Compassion. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people who never consider the wants and needs of others. It's not just about how they treat ME, it's about how they treat everyone they come in contact with. Kindness is the best tool we have to make the world a better place.

Little off-guard and unprepared.

I am so disappointed in myself.

No, I didn't relapse. But it was a near miss. I had a chance, and I wanted to take it. By the grace of God and the help of two very dear friends, I survived.

I just...I crashed this weekend. It didn't matter that life is pretty good. I just have so much going on, I felt so many things at once, that I completely overloaded. Total meltdown. Friday night I hated myself so much that I just wanted to get drunk and total my car. A phone call from a friend kept me from accepting the very appealing invitation I had just recieved to split a 30-pack of Budweiser with an old friend. But I wasn't fixed. It was just the eye of the storm.

Saturday I spent most of the evening lost in my own morbid pursuits until I decided I was no good to anybody and I may as well go to a meeting. I went, but for the first time since I sobered up, I didn't WANT to be there. I would rather have been dead, or at least drunk.

After the meeting, I texted my recovery battle bro. "It's over. I'm done. Today I sat in a meeting and realized I'd rather be drunk."

I need to never forget that phone call. When I answered the phone, he asked "Did you already start?" The sad, defeated tone in his voice...I'm so ashamed to have made anyone feel that way, much less someone I care about so much. But I was determined to give up. I had an answer for every question, a retort for every bit of wisdom he tried to impart. It came down to a simple plea. "Please don't hurt my friend anymore."

I spent 27 years fucking up. I don't know why I thought I could get better in a matter of months. Especially when I fucked up in new and exciting ways AFTER I sobered up. And as an added bonus, I fucked up a very important friendship over the weekend. I'm like the anti-Charlie Sheen. All I do is fail. And I've never done coke or partied with hookers. And I'm probably full of kitten blood.

But giving up isn't gonna fix anything. I must soldier on. No matter how undeserving I think I am, the fact is that people DO care about me, and I owe it to them to keep trying.

I'm trying a "vow of silence" type thing for a little while. Less talking, more listening. I'm trying to only talk when I have to, I'm not going to share at meetings for a while, I'm going to get in touch with my own stillness. But blogging and social media are exempt, because I'm just talking, not expecting anyone to listen or hear.

“Even a fool knows you can't touch the stars, but it doesn't stop a wise man from trying.”

For the record, I'm not a fan of April Fool's Day. It preys upon my sweet and trusting heart. But I did tell my sister I was pregnant last year. I still feel like an ass.

Life is good today. The sun is shining. There's colour to the sky for pretty much the first time this week. I "trained" the new girl this morning - except she's pretty much got it already. We got a catered lunch today. I'm a week away from seeing the kids, from bringing Mama home to start a new life here. I am sober, I am growing, I am lovely. My future feels bright and full of promise. My heart is so full it aches.

"The wise are wise only because they love. The fool are fools only because they think they can understand love." - Paulo Coelho