It is Sunday, and this new interface is called “Calypso,” and I don’t like it at all. It is very wonky, and all JAVA, and is supposed to be better than sliced bread … Um, NO !
I want my old post editor back. Much more user friendly.
It is on the cold side, the past two nights. We saw flurries fall a couple of times today, but there is NO snow in the forecast in the next week.
It was an odd weekend. I saw the baby the other night, and she was sniffling and coughing. On Friday morning at approximately 5 a.m. i was hugging the bowl, sick as a dog for twelve hours.
I find that I am so thirsty for anything to drink, and I went to the store twice and spent $30.00 on drinkables, yet I could not quench that thirst, it was insane, not that I kept anything down enough to enjoy it. Hubby brought me meds after work, and I took them and was able to sleep until almost 11 p.m. because I was up so early and did not sleep all day long.
I had the funkiest dream … I was stuck in this warehouse of 70’s and 80’s stuff, like video games, toys and it got crazy when I was sitting in an old style Burger King, playing with toys and food. It just kept getting odder and odder, and it was never ending. Back in the day, I had specific toys, and things I liked. Roller skates, and Solid Gold on tv. It was just odd because I’ve never had visuals like this before.
Saturday, I had things to do, and responsibilities that I had to be present for, so there was no time to lay in bed and feel sick or sorry for myself. I had back to back meetings in another fellowship I belong to. During our two hour break between them, I had dinner with friends, down line, and we watched some John Oliver on You Tube.
We’ve been talking about rigorous honesty of late. It is funny, that the one section of my life that I wanted to forget and never talk about or mention to anyone, has become my greatest teacher, and brought me into the lives of men who have changed my life.
This morning, well, for a while now, I’ve been riding my pre-cake roller coaster, that 30 day period that comes before you take your anniversary cake, when your brain goes on overdrive, and one begins to obsess over needless and useless shit.
But this morning, I needed a brain drain, so I got up and opened a word document, and wrote my script for my share on my anniversary next Sunday. I had very specific things to say, so I wrote them down, so I would not fuck it up. It is going to be explosive.
Tonight we sat only a small number. Lots of people still out sick, and we did not empty the coffee urn once again. wasted coffee…
It was Tradition Night, and the eleventh month, means the eleventh tradition. Attraction rather than promotion. That topic of anonymity came up but not many people spoke towards it.
What I did have to say was that the first time I got sober, the room I was in was very nasty and not attractive at all, but that’s where I could hit a meeting, however harsh my peers were towards newcomers. That shitty experience, only added to my alienation from the program and my eventual slip. I had come in contact with enough assholes and homophobes that I was totally turned off with participation and sobriety.
The second time I came in, it was a whole other story. The right people showed up at the right moment, and were very good for me. And when I moved to Montreal, (read: No cell phones yet), I met great people who were attractive in many ways. They took me in and took care of me, and spent time with me, so I was not alone.
I remember one really fun memory… My sponsor at the time, Dave, took me to the mountain in the middle of the night, to climb.
There is a mountain in the middle of the city. There is a trail you can walk, up and down. But on this night, he said that we were going to climb to the top, up the side, and not use the trails. It was odd, but very fun. That was just one of the many attractive things that I did in early sobriety. The other was a few months in, 4 alcoholics climbed into a Toyota and drove all the way from Montreal to Nova Scotia on the Atlantic coast for some meetings, and a whale watching tour. That was 17 hours each way. It was fun but a bit irresponsible.
It was a good night. More to come, stay tuned…
11 years ago tonight, with family and friends present, we exchanged vows and spoke sacred words. Today, we continue to live into those words. Tonight, we had dinner at the fabulous FIRE GRILL, once again.
I have shared before that there are three restos, that are at the top of the budget when it comes to dining out …
- Fire Grill
- Rueben’s Smoked Meats
- Baton Rouge
This short list is a foodies paradise of good eats.
I am grateful that I live in Canada. Due to recent events, in the world, people are at odds, and words are being spoken, that are totally, out of left field. I’m not sure most folks, politicians and leaders alike, know what they are saying.
My tight group of friends are at odds with each other, because of differing views of current events, and what each of them thinks, as to what we should do and how we should do it.
The ties of friendship are being tested. And if a second conversation that needs to take place, because the first one began and ended badly, doesn’t heal the rift, I am afraid that my circle will be broken over non-negotiable statements.
We are Canadian. And we, for the most part, share Canadian values, and for some, that is not good enough. Everybody has a right to their opinions, because of their origins, how they were educated, and how they each decide to live their lives.
No One Person has the definitive answer, because, let’s face it, we don’t. I don’t think a real, tangible, solid, workable answer is possible amid the heat of argument and prejudice.
Let us keep each other in our thoughts …
Notice I did not say “prayers…”
Religion has become a dirty word. People are choosing to incriminate all, due to the actions of “a few.” And that does not bode well, for an entire community of people, world wide.
One day we will see this for what it really is, and we will shake our heads and say to each other …”Was I really that stupid?”
Yes, we really are that stupid.
At least I can unfollow people. And I can turn the channel, and better yet, I can totally turn off my computer when it all gets to be too much of hateful overload.
More to come, stay tuned …
We are keeping with the Winter theme tonight.
We are sitting at (-14c/-16c w.c.). It was much warmer, if warmer can be a thing in the middle of Winter, than it has been as of late. And it was nice to have buses available on my extensions, meaning I did not have to walk from the stations.
It was a quiet weekend. Almost mundane in how our lives have become so routine. I was so bored on Saturday afternoon, that I did laundry, for the first time, on a weekend. I seem to hit the wash room with the freedom to use my super washer, because nobody else is doing laundry.
Sunday, I had dressed for the meeting, and I was layered because it was frigid. I walked up my usual path, and through the Forum building, and went to cross Atwater into the mall. I crossed the street and took a step on to the other side of the street, onto the sidewalk. I put my foot down, and I slipped on ice and fell face first onto the sidewalk. My headphones went flying, my coat got dirty, and the brand new Bayern Munich white shirt I was wearing was covered in icy mud stains.
I got to the church and one of my friends said to me that my shirt was dirty. I did not know how dirty it was because the mud was all the way across my backside. I took off that shirt and thought to rinse it in the sink, (a bad decision) it was useless. Needless to say I was pissed.
Which set up Monday for another round of laundry in less than three days. Now I am back on schedule with laundry on a weekday, instead of the weekend.
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In the evening, when I don’t have to be anywhere, we nap before dinner. A couple hours of downtime usually is a good thing. Yesterday, I had this really cool dream about time travel and worm holes and slip stream travel. The dream began in my friends living room, and morphed into a space dream, I’m not sure how that happened or why, but it was a great dream, and I woke up with it and remembered the dream.
Today, I was sleeping my afternoon, prior to getting up and getting ready to go, and I was in my favorite drinking establishment, and I had a drink in my hand. I then drank that drink, and in the dream, it only took that one drink to get me to black out mode. I felt the alcohol go down, I felt the drunkenness of the drink, and I woke up, thinking that I was drunk, that I did indeed take a drink.
I don’t usually have drinking dreams. This one was particularly vivid.
I got to the meeting and waited for my sponsor to get there, we had been talking about dream between ourselves prior, and one of my friends said to him that I had a drinking dream, and his response was, “That a drinking dream is good for us, and that it means we are doing something right.” It means we are healthy. Well, after that dream I wasn’t particularly healthy, when I woke up.
It made me stop and check that I did not have any alcohol in the house.
Not that I sleep walk to the SAQ (read: Liquor Store) right up the street and buy liquor !!!
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Today, as I said, was much warmer than it has been. I made my transit and it was good. When I got to the other end, there was a bus in the bay, which meant I didn’t have to walk down the hill.
Today’s edition of Joe and Charlie spoke about “Craving.”
We might crave some kind of food, or something salty, fruity, spicy, or sweet, bread, so forth and so on. I get these kinds of cravings, when I need to have one of these foods. I also get the “thirst of death” when I could drink an entire bottle of lemonade in one swig … That is a thing.
But when it comes to alcohol, we might want a drink, and we might take a drink. Once we’ve introduced alcohol into our system, the phenomena of craving begins, because like most alcoholics, we start with just one, and who, really, can have just one?
One leads to more which leads to insanity.
I don’t think I ever craved alcohol. I just drank. I had to have it, one way or another. In the end, it went part and parcel with my Saturday Dance Hall Party. Music, Lights, People, Alcohol. Not necessarily in that order. The bar opened early to give you time to nurse a drink or two before the main dance hall opened, we would drink first, the rest would follow. All I wanted to do was skip the preliminaries and get right down to business. I didn’t crave, I was well into delusional obsession.
They also talk about the feelings that rise, once we get sober. Everything doesn’t all of a sudden get rosy red and wonderful. We might have been drinking to drown or to forget. But if you take away the alcohol, everything that you may have been trying to avoid, when you sober up, there they are …
Where ever you go, there you are…
I wasn’t trying to drown my feelings, I was delusional, in thinking that alcohol would stop time from moving forwards, and prolong my immaturity a little while longer, until the time came, and it did indeed, that I was forced to stop and decide to grow up.
Which led to the decision to move here. Which leads me nicely into the next topic.
I was packed up and ready to go on Shrove Tuesday 2002. My friend Steven (read: the man who would not marry me, much to my dismay), had taken me to the post office and I mailed myself (here) all my things that I boxed. Then he drove me to the airport the next day.
Tomorrow, Ash Wednesday, was my trip from Miami to Montreal. It was the tail end of Winter that year. I did not look back. So it is with great pride I can say that tomorrow is my 13th anniversary of coming to Canada.
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When I left this afternoon, there was mail in my box. When I got home, there was more mail in my box. Did I forget to get the mail yesterday? I think so. During the holidays, we used to get two mail deliveries, one for letter mail, and another for packages. Today, my Marco gear came in the mail.
Another week, another adventure. We’ll see what kind of high jinx we can get into.
More to come, stay tuned …
Another weekend is in the book. The snow that fell is slowly disappearing due to mist and rain. As is Montreal, the weather is morphing by the hour today. Last night we had ice pellets, and the sidewalks were slushy and wet. Today we had rain, that changed to mist, that changed to fog, that turned into dreariness. We are sitting above freezing at a balmy (6c).
Last night hubby and I celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary with dinner at Fire Grill on Stanley Street. We walked from home along Ste. Catherine’s Street, past the Ogilvy holiday window. This is a long standing tradition. They dress a window for Christmas, and every year it changes. The costumes on the characters are all hand made, from hand me down fur coats and donations for charity.
We don’t usually eat out at high end restaurants, so last night was a treat. The restaurant is finely decorated with comfortable booths around the main bar, which was not very busy at all. It was around 9 that we had reservations, and there were only a handful of folks sitting at the bar, the entire time we were there.
We dined on French Onion soup, Caesar Salads, New York Strip Steak and Rib Steak. The prices were a little steep, but hubby had budgeted for the dinner. The Steak portions allowed us to share the two entrees between us, and there was steak left over at the end as well. The portions on all servings were large and the steaks were plenty good size. Overall it was a nice place to eat, but not all the time.
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I departed early and there was fog, as thick as pea soup hanging over the city. I watched it roll in from the west and I could not see past my balcony, it had devoured space and time. I had missed the rain, or the rain missed me.
We cranked out set up in short order due to the fact that several of my fellows came early. I started working with a new guy these past couple of weeks. Well, I offered to work with him and he accepted. He is new and this past week he grabbed himself a Big Book, which he brought with him this evening and for the hour prior to the meeting, we sat and began reading the book from the beginning. That is something I do with my guys here, to read the book together, and we high lite particular sentences, and we discuss the read as we go along.
I have said that I am not one to bang someone over the head with the book at the outset. I would rather you come and find your way and when you are ready, we will read the book. Hindsight is very good when talking about the book. My book had a multitude of colors and notes in the margin, all my books are like that, seeing I have been using the same books for so long. And I just continue to add notes as we read and re-read.
The first read, I think I was trying to wrap my head around what the book said. And having a meeting where all we did was read the book, several times over, these past thirteen years or so, was good. Sunday’s we spent the better part of a year and more reading the book again, and I realized several things on this passage.
When we got to the end of the book, the “Stories” section, I found that each of them had information that was pertinent to everyone, and in certain cases, I now come to believe that certain back stories should be read before you begin the front read.
And that wisdom comes, after reading the book from front to back. We began reading the book from the beginning, for both my guys. And I also suggested to them that it might be interesting for them to read the stories from the back of the book, concurrently as we start our study together, along with their journals and the daily phone calls.
So that is a thing.
There has been a burning question in my head for some time now. A question I have been asking myself for a long time. I can’t really answer it now, because it concerns the past. What happened happened, and life went as it did. But rhetorically, what would have happened, if someone had said the word “STOP” when I was in the thick of my alcoholism when I was in my twenties ???
Every time we read Step One, I get hung up on this one line from the read:
The read tells the story about the first edition of the Big Book being written for the Low Bottoms. It goes on to say …
“It is a tremendous satisfaction to record that in the following years this had changed. Alcoholics who still had their health, their families, their jobs, and even two cars in the garage, began to recognize their alcoholism. (then comes the kicker for me) … As this trend grew, they were joined by young people who were scarcely more than potential alcoholics. They were spared that last ten or fifteen years of literal hell the rest of us had gone through.”
Twelve and Twelve, pg. 23
When I was in my twenties, I was more than potentially an alcoholic, I was ONE. And nobody was none the wiser. Who knew from recovery in the bar business, who knew the word moderation, or better yet, the word STOP !!!
I imagine in my minds eye, the life I would have had, had I gotten sober in my twenties. Where I was living, what I was doing, who I was associating with. But that was not to be. It is written, in the book, that “Nothing, Absolutely Nothing happens in God’s world by mistake.” Then that means, the journey I had, happened, and not by mistake, and by Divine Direction.
If that is so, then God had one fucked up idea with the journey He took me on.
I did have free will, at any time on the journey. I could have stopped the ride and gotten off at any point, it was my choice to ride the ride, in any case. You could say, my first go at sobriety, was getting off the ride, and finding God’s Grace. Sadly, I failed in that attempt.
I talked tonight about Powerlessness. And about example.
Had someone showed me the book, early in my life, I would have realized that I was living, the “Big Book Live,” for the whole of my life. I knew early on what alcoholism was. I say my grandfather’s were type one’s, my father was a type two, and I came along and perfected alcoholism into type three.
Living with active alcoholics, types one and two, was a Master Class in just what alcohol does to a human being. And what that addiction does to the immediate family. However, in our cases, nobody ever made a scene, or spoke out, or said “Why don’t you stop drinking!” ever…
I learned what all those words meant as a young person. However I did not know it at the time. I was powerless over my father, and my mother. Children are powerless over their parents. They used to say that as long as we lived under their roof, it was by their grace and by their rules.
When it was good, it was good. When it was bad, it was really bad.
I learned a great deal by listening. That I did very well. By listening, I planned my exit from home. I knew where I wanted to go, and why.
But where ever you go, there you are. I took me with me.
But my alcoholism followed. I was completely powerless over it. From the word GO !
And it took me until I hit the age of thirty four to finally understand what that meant. There are two parts to that step … One – that I am powerless over alcohol, and Two – that my life had become unmanageable. In my life I went from an unmanageable state, to a functional state.
The really terrible things that usually happen at the end of ones drinking career, happened in the first decade of my drinking, and I survived them, miraculously. After that I began to perfect my drinking, trying different methods, different locations, different people. At one point I added drugs to my history, that was a complete failure of rationality. That last year, I could not handle drinking every day, so I turned to binge drinking. Until failure was the only option.
And I knew the end was coming. I asked God for help.
The rest is history.
All I wanted when I moved here was to never drink again. 16 days and counting …
It was a good night. I worked with my guys. I spent an hour with my friends. Nobody drank since last Sunday. And everybody is still sober, thanks be to God.
“I get everything I need in A.A. – and everything I need I get. And when I get what I need, I invariably find that it was just what I wanted all the time.” Pg. 552