I got this way without drugs.
I don't have the handy excuse that smoking six tons of weed would give me. I was always a lightweight when it came to smoking pot. Two hits was plenty for me. When I was in my early 20's I smoked pot regularly for a couple years. Averaging two hits once a week over the course of two years. Never had the money or the desire to indulge in more than that.
I remember the last time I smoked dope. It was at a keg party that was being given for my daughter's high school graduation. I hadn't had any alcohol for 7 years and my daughter was very shocked to see me take a hit on the pipe being passed around. Two hits...same old lightweight.
She came over to me with her eyes as big as saucers, absolutely amazed. " Mom? " she queried. Guess she wasn't sure if an alien impostor would answer her. I looked up at her and said "What? Did you think I didn't know how?"
"But you don't drink." I replied "No, but I used to. And I only smoke dope every seven years."
Teenagers can be so gullible.
I told this story at an AA meeting and someone said to me "Sounds like a 'slip'; you should get a white chip." I didn't think it was a slip and I didn't take a white chip over it. I didn't smoke the dope for the same reasons that I drank. Two hits of weed weren't going to turn me into a dope fiend or lead me to drink again. I drank cuz I was utterly miserable emotionally.
I just felt happy and comfortable...that was before I had the smoke. At my parents' rural home, my daughter graduating high school, all of my five siblings adults; just a kind of peaceful interlude. It's very difficult to get six siblings together when they're in their 20's and 30's. Like a lunar eclipse, it wouldn't happen again soon. Two of my siblings drank beer only, one of them drank beer and smoked weed, three of us smoked weed only.
That was that. I haven't smoked pot since then; I haven't needed to forsake years of abstinence from alcohol. It didn't change my life. It didn't get me a walk-on part in "Reefer Madness". And my daughter doesn't remember the occasion cuz she got soused on keg beer.
Monday, April 9, 2007
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Pony-Tail Holders
Pony-tail holders...where do they go? The same place that socks disappear to, perhaps.
Our house has that same problem with socks that every one else has: they vanish from the dryer. Since my husband and I don't mingle our laundry I know that our missing socks have not slipped away to 'mate' under the couch. Nothing so sordid as that.
I suspect either extra-terrestrial aliens or a government conspiracy. Could be both; the evidence isn't conclusive. I'm betting that somewhere in the desert in New Mexico there is a mountain of socks. Actually, two mountains...one for whites, one for colors. That's your government at work, folks.
However, I believe the aliens are responsible for the disappearance of the pony-tail holders. I believe these aliens are disguising themselves as those four-footed canes that elderly people use instead of a walker. Be on the lookout for a four-footed cane wearing a snotwad of pony-tail holders on its slender body. Male aliens go for bright colors, females tend to wear pastels. And no white after Labor Day; they have adopted some Earth customs.
Perhaps a day will come when scientists will solve the puzzling dilemma of the disappearing pony-tail holders. The day may come too, when our government stops taking socks from innocent citizens and reveals what the socks are really used for.
Our house has that same problem with socks that every one else has: they vanish from the dryer. Since my husband and I don't mingle our laundry I know that our missing socks have not slipped away to 'mate' under the couch. Nothing so sordid as that.
I suspect either extra-terrestrial aliens or a government conspiracy. Could be both; the evidence isn't conclusive. I'm betting that somewhere in the desert in New Mexico there is a mountain of socks. Actually, two mountains...one for whites, one for colors. That's your government at work, folks.
However, I believe the aliens are responsible for the disappearance of the pony-tail holders. I believe these aliens are disguising themselves as those four-footed canes that elderly people use instead of a walker. Be on the lookout for a four-footed cane wearing a snotwad of pony-tail holders on its slender body. Male aliens go for bright colors, females tend to wear pastels. And no white after Labor Day; they have adopted some Earth customs.
Perhaps a day will come when scientists will solve the puzzling dilemma of the disappearing pony-tail holders. The day may come too, when our government stops taking socks from innocent citizens and reveals what the socks are really used for.
Desperately Seeking Boredom
When I started this blog I thought I'd be able to write enough to fill pages and pages. I'm finding that writing daily is a daunting task. Bummer. I'm also finding that my life is pretty boring and for that I'm grateful.
I've worked hard to make my life boring.
I quit drinking booze; when I stopped drinking, I stopped getting arrested. Funny how that worked, huh? Divorced a man who drank heavily; he was very exciting. Except he never got arrested. He peed in some interesting places, though. Dresser drawers, kitchen sink, floorboards of his truck... very interesting.
Shortly after I quit drinking I resolved to be less dramatic. Alcoholics Anonymous showed me that being 'dramatic' was a way to get attention; getting attention is a way to manipulate people. AA prefers that you not manipulate people. They call it "managing and controlling", and they can show you how silly it is to try to manage anything but yourself.
So when I felt that swelling of righteous anger I asked myself "What is my goal here?" If I were honest with myself and the goal was merely to inflate my ego with false indignation then I needed to let go of that. After practicing at letting go of the righteous anger I could feel the dishonesty of it. I became a lot pickier about what required anger as a solution.
My kids are grown and gone from home. There's an end to a whole lot of fun stuff.
I'm amazed at how teens perceive adults as having freedom. We all know that's crap.
Yea, verily, adults are free to freeze their asses off if they don't pay the light bill. Adults are free to sleep under bridges if they don't pay the rent or mortgage payments. Adults are free to starve if they don't earn wages to buy food. Adults are free to walk if they don't own a car.
So yes, if you perceive that as freedom, by all means pursue it.
Then of course, there's the kid who scares the crap out of you by pursuing the freedom of not working. Rent an apartment, have a baby, marry a loser; do anything but work. Hang out with people who are getting disability or food stamps or other guv'mint handouts. Don't look at the cage that those people are in. It's tiny, trust me. Don't listen to your parents when they tell you that getting disability is not a lifetime achievement.
Hey, I let her live. About six months ago she discovered her latent work ethic. She's still married to the loser, but one thing at a time, eh?
I no longer own a business. That had it's share of boredom, but the burden of anxiety was huge. It's a relief to work for someone else and let them make the decisions for their business. There were parts of owning a retail business that I enjoyed very much but those were out-weighed by the churning fear of not succeeding. Thinking about it now is enough to make my stomach knot up.
Simplifying your life is popular these days. I guess that's what I've done, albeit unwittingly. Really, I was searching desperately for boredom.
I've worked hard to make my life boring.
I quit drinking booze; when I stopped drinking, I stopped getting arrested. Funny how that worked, huh? Divorced a man who drank heavily; he was very exciting. Except he never got arrested. He peed in some interesting places, though. Dresser drawers, kitchen sink, floorboards of his truck... very interesting.
Shortly after I quit drinking I resolved to be less dramatic. Alcoholics Anonymous showed me that being 'dramatic' was a way to get attention; getting attention is a way to manipulate people. AA prefers that you not manipulate people. They call it "managing and controlling", and they can show you how silly it is to try to manage anything but yourself.
So when I felt that swelling of righteous anger I asked myself "What is my goal here?" If I were honest with myself and the goal was merely to inflate my ego with false indignation then I needed to let go of that. After practicing at letting go of the righteous anger I could feel the dishonesty of it. I became a lot pickier about what required anger as a solution.
My kids are grown and gone from home. There's an end to a whole lot of fun stuff.
I'm amazed at how teens perceive adults as having freedom. We all know that's crap.
Yea, verily, adults are free to freeze their asses off if they don't pay the light bill. Adults are free to sleep under bridges if they don't pay the rent or mortgage payments. Adults are free to starve if they don't earn wages to buy food. Adults are free to walk if they don't own a car.
So yes, if you perceive that as freedom, by all means pursue it.
Then of course, there's the kid who scares the crap out of you by pursuing the freedom of not working. Rent an apartment, have a baby, marry a loser; do anything but work. Hang out with people who are getting disability or food stamps or other guv'mint handouts. Don't look at the cage that those people are in. It's tiny, trust me. Don't listen to your parents when they tell you that getting disability is not a lifetime achievement.
Hey, I let her live. About six months ago she discovered her latent work ethic. She's still married to the loser, but one thing at a time, eh?
I no longer own a business. That had it's share of boredom, but the burden of anxiety was huge. It's a relief to work for someone else and let them make the decisions for their business. There were parts of owning a retail business that I enjoyed very much but those were out-weighed by the churning fear of not succeeding. Thinking about it now is enough to make my stomach knot up.
Simplifying your life is popular these days. I guess that's what I've done, albeit unwittingly. Really, I was searching desperately for boredom.
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Drive a Little
I was reading an article a week ago that said that Americans are not driving less even though the price of gas is rising. In the past there has been a correlation between rising gas prices and decreased driving.
I mentioned the article to MySpouse. He said "Well, how much can you cut down? It's not feasible to quit driving. People need to go their jobs, at least."
He drives about 20 miles round-trip to his job. Since there's overtime where he works he may make that trip seven days a week. Once a week we go to the larger city where he works for entertainment. Every two months we travel to a destination more than 100 miles from home.
We are not doing a lot of 'luxury' driving.
Transportation for me the last couple years has been very limited. In my search for employment I've focused on jobs here in town so that I don't have to drive to work. Anyway, I could stand to walk; my legs need strengthening and I'd like to lose some weight. There's an advantage for me to not drive.
That doesn't work for everyone, I know.
We could cut down on our driving a bit more. He could ride a bicycle to work in nicer weather. Probably not every day, though. He would miss listening to loud country music. We could ride bicycles in nicer weather to the AA meetings in the larger city.
I doubt that we would give up driving completely. Unless we are forced to do so. I hope it doesn't come to that.
I mentioned the article to MySpouse. He said "Well, how much can you cut down? It's not feasible to quit driving. People need to go their jobs, at least."
He drives about 20 miles round-trip to his job. Since there's overtime where he works he may make that trip seven days a week. Once a week we go to the larger city where he works for entertainment. Every two months we travel to a destination more than 100 miles from home.
We are not doing a lot of 'luxury' driving.
Transportation for me the last couple years has been very limited. In my search for employment I've focused on jobs here in town so that I don't have to drive to work. Anyway, I could stand to walk; my legs need strengthening and I'd like to lose some weight. There's an advantage for me to not drive.
That doesn't work for everyone, I know.
We could cut down on our driving a bit more. He could ride a bicycle to work in nicer weather. Probably not every day, though. He would miss listening to loud country music. We could ride bicycles in nicer weather to the AA meetings in the larger city.
I doubt that we would give up driving completely. Unless we are forced to do so. I hope it doesn't come to that.
Play Dates
I kept my promise to the young lady down the street. She brought her puppy to play with Lilac and we roasted marshmallows over a small fire in the backyard.
It was slightly less windy today than yesterday. Slightly warmer also. I made a small fire that would burn down very quickly and not be a danger to the property of my neighbors.
It's been years since I've roasted marshmallows over a campfire; I'd forgotten how sticky they are when you pull them off the skewer. I managed not to get marshmallow in my hair. I was quite proud of myself for being less messy than a teenager.
The puppy wanted to play, of course, but Lilac didn't seem to feel festive. The young lady threw toys around the backyard for her puppy to play with. I suggested that she throw the red ball and see if we could get Lilac interested in playing. The red ball is one of Lilac's favorite toys. That worked. A couple tosses of the red ball got Lilac going and then the two dogs played by themselves.
The puppy and Lilac are still getting to know each other. Puppy is learning some doggy etiquette from Lilac. Like 'I'm older than you, I demand respect.' kind of etiquette. Reminds me of the kind of etiquette my mother taught her children.
I can't say I'm the best example of humanity. Still, I'm pleased that the young lady comes to visit. Talking to MySpouse about her visiting reminds me of something I hear frequently at AA meetings: "Fake it 'til you make it." One of the ways to become what you want to be is to act the way you want to be. To become 'normal' it helps to act normal: visit a neighbor, play with a dog, roast marshmallows.
I know that it will take more than play dates to help the young lady stay sane. We just each have to do our part for her health and sanity, and this is my part.
It was slightly less windy today than yesterday. Slightly warmer also. I made a small fire that would burn down very quickly and not be a danger to the property of my neighbors.
It's been years since I've roasted marshmallows over a campfire; I'd forgotten how sticky they are when you pull them off the skewer. I managed not to get marshmallow in my hair. I was quite proud of myself for being less messy than a teenager.
The puppy wanted to play, of course, but Lilac didn't seem to feel festive. The young lady threw toys around the backyard for her puppy to play with. I suggested that she throw the red ball and see if we could get Lilac interested in playing. The red ball is one of Lilac's favorite toys. That worked. A couple tosses of the red ball got Lilac going and then the two dogs played by themselves.
The puppy and Lilac are still getting to know each other. Puppy is learning some doggy etiquette from Lilac. Like 'I'm older than you, I demand respect.' kind of etiquette. Reminds me of the kind of etiquette my mother taught her children.
I can't say I'm the best example of humanity. Still, I'm pleased that the young lady comes to visit. Talking to MySpouse about her visiting reminds me of something I hear frequently at AA meetings: "Fake it 'til you make it." One of the ways to become what you want to be is to act the way you want to be. To become 'normal' it helps to act normal: visit a neighbor, play with a dog, roast marshmallows.
I know that it will take more than play dates to help the young lady stay sane. We just each have to do our part for her health and sanity, and this is my part.
Productive Insomnia
Waking up at 2:30 AM again. Since this is happening with some regularity I've decided to make productive use of the time. Doing laundry is fairly quiet as household chores go. I can wash my clothes without disturbing MySpouse.
The last two weeks have been rather hectic. I haven't had time to put away clothing I've washed. I find myself digging thru a basket or a pile of clean laundry and I hate doing that. I don't like the way the clothing looks or the clutter of baskets and piles.
Luckily, I haven't had to do anything but brute labor for about ten days so the clothing I've worn is comfortable if not visually elegant. It's hard to get excited about a cotton knit navy turtleneck. I'm going to turn it inside-out anyway, so that the label doesn't chafe the nape of my neck.
All those years of paper routes taught me that inside-out clothing is a good thing sometimes. Socks and turtlenecks are more comfortable that way. Inside-out socks get the toe-seam off the top of your toes. If you're doing a lot of walking the last thing you want is scabs on the tops of your toes. Come to think of it, avoiding scabs anywhere on your body is a good thing.
I have a day off from the part-time job at the restaurant. I have a hundred things to do, so I suppose I should make an effort at prioritizing and listing the hundred things. I have an uncashed paycheck, for pity's sake. That is surely an indication of hectivity if ever there was one.
I want to:
*Do my laundry and put it away.
*Call my mother.
*Cash my paycheck.
*Vacuum the downstairs.
*Wash the soiled rugs.
*Deliver Avon to customers.
*Walk my dogs.
*Write a report for Lions Club.
*Return books to the library (and pay the overdue fees).
*Clean the bathroom.
*Roast marshmallows with the young lady.
That should be enough to keep me occupied today.
I want to stay awake and busy until MySpouse gets home from work. Then the two of us can take a nap. That is one of the benefits of being older adults: nobody hassles you if you want to nap.
There's nothing really harmful in the insomnia, I guess, if I'm not disrupting MySpouse's rest.
Being productive lessens the feeling of wasted time.
The last two weeks have been rather hectic. I haven't had time to put away clothing I've washed. I find myself digging thru a basket or a pile of clean laundry and I hate doing that. I don't like the way the clothing looks or the clutter of baskets and piles.
Luckily, I haven't had to do anything but brute labor for about ten days so the clothing I've worn is comfortable if not visually elegant. It's hard to get excited about a cotton knit navy turtleneck. I'm going to turn it inside-out anyway, so that the label doesn't chafe the nape of my neck.
All those years of paper routes taught me that inside-out clothing is a good thing sometimes. Socks and turtlenecks are more comfortable that way. Inside-out socks get the toe-seam off the top of your toes. If you're doing a lot of walking the last thing you want is scabs on the tops of your toes. Come to think of it, avoiding scabs anywhere on your body is a good thing.
I have a day off from the part-time job at the restaurant. I have a hundred things to do, so I suppose I should make an effort at prioritizing and listing the hundred things. I have an uncashed paycheck, for pity's sake. That is surely an indication of hectivity if ever there was one.
I want to:
*Do my laundry and put it away.
*Call my mother.
*Cash my paycheck.
*Vacuum the downstairs.
*Wash the soiled rugs.
*Deliver Avon to customers.
*Walk my dogs.
*Write a report for Lions Club.
*Return books to the library (and pay the overdue fees).
*Clean the bathroom.
*Roast marshmallows with the young lady.
That should be enough to keep me occupied today.
I want to stay awake and busy until MySpouse gets home from work. Then the two of us can take a nap. That is one of the benefits of being older adults: nobody hassles you if you want to nap.
There's nothing really harmful in the insomnia, I guess, if I'm not disrupting MySpouse's rest.
Being productive lessens the feeling of wasted time.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Someone's Daughter
A 'normal' teenager can drive their parents nuts. It happened to me with my two kids; I'm sure it has happened to lots of other parents. My son ended up in prison before he had the chance to do some of the things that my daughter has done. I recently wrote a post where I expressed anger at some of the things my daughter did. Or, in some cases, didn't do.
Before my son's sentencing I was talking to my daughter about it, trying to convey the seriousness of his situation. She looked at me and said "Well, you won't have to worry about Nick giving you grandkids." I was too amazed at how she went from Point A to Point Z to protest. Instead of reprimanding her I went into the bathroom, shut the door, looked in the mirror and shook my head. Finally I laughed a little, saying to myself "I'll be damned." The world returned to normal then.
That happened ten years ago. I've not forgotten exactly what she said and I still shake my head over it.
As per the post on March 30, 2007 my daughter went through a time of extreme laziness. It was such a thorough abdication that I began to fear there was some mental illness at the
root of it. MySpouse has a niece who behaved like my daughter and testing found that the niece had a chemical imbalance. The niece can take meds for her problem.
I wasn't willing to let my daughter off the hook so easily. I remembered how lazy I was when I was in school. Teachers despaired of me. I was lazy; potential be damned.
Turns out my daughter's aversion to working at a job was mostly attitude and perception. She found a job that fits her like a designer gown. It's second shift hours - 2:00 PM to 10:00 PM. Those are the hours that she would slide around to if there were no pressure on her internal clock. She gets to be bossy; as the oldest female of her generation she's done a lot of babysitting over the years. This job as a security guard is perfect for her.
That's my daughter. I love her, but I'm not willing to let her bullshit me.
What concerns me here and now is someone else's daughter.
The young lady comes to visit me and brings her puppy that she was given as a
Christmas gift. My dog Lilac will play with the puppy, but my other dog, Jackson, growls and threatens the puppy. The solution to the problem is to leave Jackson in the house while Lilac and the rest of us go out to the backyard to socialize and play.
I'm writing about this so that I remember that coming here may help the young lady to heal. I'd never hold out my home as a bastion of sanity but it's not as harmful as some places a teenage girl could go. This past fall the young lady was in the grip of psychosis, having schizophrenic episodes, terrifying her parents. Their fear was for her. For her life and sanity.
They feared for their child just as every parent does. As I did for my daughter.
The young lady was hospitalized, tested for various things. Tests revealed a cyst in her brain that may have been the cause of the psychotic episodes. Or may not... Medications were tried in various doses until a balance was achieved that lets the young lady function reasonably well.
I try to remember to welcome the young lady when I truly have time. Try to remember not to feel put upon when she knocks on my door. I try to remember to be honest with her when I really don't have time to visit.
Her parents trust me with their daughter. They trust me not to harm her.
Before my son's sentencing I was talking to my daughter about it, trying to convey the seriousness of his situation. She looked at me and said "Well, you won't have to worry about Nick giving you grandkids." I was too amazed at how she went from Point A to Point Z to protest. Instead of reprimanding her I went into the bathroom, shut the door, looked in the mirror and shook my head. Finally I laughed a little, saying to myself "I'll be damned." The world returned to normal then.
That happened ten years ago. I've not forgotten exactly what she said and I still shake my head over it.
As per the post on March 30, 2007 my daughter went through a time of extreme laziness. It was such a thorough abdication that I began to fear there was some mental illness at the
root of it. MySpouse has a niece who behaved like my daughter and testing found that the niece had a chemical imbalance. The niece can take meds for her problem.
I wasn't willing to let my daughter off the hook so easily. I remembered how lazy I was when I was in school. Teachers despaired of me. I was lazy; potential be damned.
Turns out my daughter's aversion to working at a job was mostly attitude and perception. She found a job that fits her like a designer gown. It's second shift hours - 2:00 PM to 10:00 PM. Those are the hours that she would slide around to if there were no pressure on her internal clock. She gets to be bossy; as the oldest female of her generation she's done a lot of babysitting over the years. This job as a security guard is perfect for her.
That's my daughter. I love her, but I'm not willing to let her bullshit me.
What concerns me here and now is someone else's daughter.
The young lady comes to visit me and brings her puppy that she was given as a
Christmas gift. My dog Lilac will play with the puppy, but my other dog, Jackson, growls and threatens the puppy. The solution to the problem is to leave Jackson in the house while Lilac and the rest of us go out to the backyard to socialize and play.
I'm writing about this so that I remember that coming here may help the young lady to heal. I'd never hold out my home as a bastion of sanity but it's not as harmful as some places a teenage girl could go. This past fall the young lady was in the grip of psychosis, having schizophrenic episodes, terrifying her parents. Their fear was for her. For her life and sanity.
They feared for their child just as every parent does. As I did for my daughter.
The young lady was hospitalized, tested for various things. Tests revealed a cyst in her brain that may have been the cause of the psychotic episodes. Or may not... Medications were tried in various doses until a balance was achieved that lets the young lady function reasonably well.
I try to remember to welcome the young lady when I truly have time. Try to remember not to feel put upon when she knocks on my door. I try to remember to be honest with her when I really don't have time to visit.
Her parents trust me with their daughter. They trust me not to harm her.
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