When this began, it was about how I was abstaining from sex as was recommended in my first year of sobriety. Now I'm in my first real relationship but I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING and yet I'm still sober. Read on.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Detach with Love MOFO

My sponsor has told me, maybe more than once, that anyone in Alcoholics Anonymous should eventually go to Alanon. But she told me I could skip it at first. She said that I need to just work the AA Program and on my sobriety. Later I can go to Alanon. I was relieved because I so much have not wanted to become one of those weird 12 Step Broads with 7 cats, tissues always in her pocket, and having a hard time keeping her meetings straight. "Oh, didn't I meet you at OA. Oh my god, know, it was SLAA."

Anyway, the issue has reared it's big ugly head again because, Bar Mitzvah Boy thinks, as he put it, "maybe we should both go to... whatever the name of it is. Why can't I ever remember the name of it?" It's Alanon clodhopper, and I DON'T WANT TO GO. And I have gone. I have! I've gone two times since I met him.

And today I should have gone but am glad I went to an AA meeting instead because I saw a dear friend who is going through a crisis. Regardless, I will go. And I don't think he needs to go but I do. I'm not the Alcoholic in this relationship. No. That's not true. But I'm not his version of it. No, that's not true either.

We are exactly, on some levels, the same person and he's driving me nuts. Oy! I can't fucking say anything right today. It's so unfair. And I sound like my fucking mother and he sounds like yours truly, and I'm like EW! Fuckity Fuck fuck fuck!

I hate it HATE IT when people go, "No offense or anything, but...." Seriously, what difference does it make what comes after the but? Nothing. No difference whatsoever. Because I already know I'VE ANNOYED YOU.

So, let's just say it. I qualify for Alanon. I already know I'm an alcoholic. And I am not going to be all nice adoring girlfriend. I need a break. He can call me when he's in a better mood and I can concentrate on my fabulous sober self (who sounds like an annoying shit right now).

Let me just wrap up this share by saying, I fear that sober I AM MY MOTHER COMBINED WITH ME WHICH IS LIKE HIDEOUS. AND I MEAN THE THINGS THAT ANNOY ME ABOUT MY MOTHER AND THEN OF COURSE, ME. Coming from a background of equally loving and loathing myself, you can see what a dangerous cocktail I am brewing.


Sunday, February 10, 2008

I think I lost one of my only fans. A gay Idahoan, whom I love, but lost interest. And my spotty entries certainly does not help. Before I begin, does anyone know how to insert music clips into the body of an entry on Blogger? I have music I want to play when you get to certain points.


So not important. One of the kids at my agency explained to me I need more bells and whistles on my site. This isn't to be sold. There's really no show here. This is really my life and I do use this as a way to process my shit. But I may create another site, and then I want to take his advice. I might make up a whole persona. Those who know me know I probably won't follow through with this. It's all about caring. Too much? Or too little. We shall see, we shall see...


I'm just learning about this shit. I'm so obviously not good at it. But allow me to make mistakes so I can get better.


No, help me.

Okay, now I can tell you. My boyfriend weighs less than me and skinny male models are in. Even so, I want him to work out more. I've put in a few hints at this point. I like his muscles. He does look really pretty beautiful naked but I want more muscles. And I feel like a huge whale.

There. It's out there in the world. For all of the world (you four people) to see.

One more thing. I found out: I'm jealous, can cry, I'm insecure, and I am completely weirded out about being a girlfriend. I am wholly unaccustomed to it. I don't know how to ask for shit, I don't know how to have space, I don't know if I want space but think I need space, I don't know how to not obsess, I don't know how to not want to get pregnant this second, I don't know what the fuck I am doing. I have never been this naive! I wish I could put another image up that was exhausting (and let's face it, it looks shitty).

Blogger Help!

Anyway, I have to go work out my old body so I don't feel like a whale next to my Manerexic. I know. That's not how you spell it. I think the words for the day is WHO GIVES A

Monday, January 28, 2008

Accept The Things I Cannot Change

Ah! I'm so thrown off. I just erased everything I wrote because it felt so intentional and so written. Uch. Fuck. My friend responded to my amends. Here's an excerpt:

Hi Peeled Minion,

First, I want to thank you for writing this letter, I really appreciate it. I'm sure you put a lot of time and thought into it, and it must have taken great courage. I think I can infer from this letter that you feel you are reclaiming your life, and I am happy for you.


Okay, so here, this is like getting notes from a network executive. You go through the run-thru and they hate it. They hate you. BUT they have to try to soften the blow in order to get what they need from you, so they say:

First of all, good work you guys. Really. And I love that stuff you did with the nun-brother story. Very real. Very, I don't know, real and funny! And I spoke to Pete and he said you guys worked something like until four in the morning. I hope you ordered dinner.

Laugh, smiles, FREEZE FRAME

Look at the writers faces. They're not happy. They all have false smiles on. And why is that? Why it's because they've been down this road before. As a matter of fact, it was just last night after the Table Read when the same exact executive said:

Look we appreciate that FH did a lot of work on this. A lot. And as you know, we just have some minor thoughts regarding a few beats.

Then they launch into what is wrong. Or rather then my friend has launched into what is wrong. Ahem:

I've taken so long to respond to this because I really wanted to digest the letter and my feelings as my initial reaction was a reflex of anger and hurt as I re-lived the moment of time that you refer to as "that weekend".

"relived" is such a great word. It's like "rewrite." Allow me:

But... honestly, after our big conversation, we wish we didn't have to say this, but as it reads right now, we just don't think anyone is really going to care about the cancer story.

And the explanation of how you are a fuck up begins:

At this point in time, I don't know that i want the responsibility of relating the ways I believe you treated me unfairly, and frankly, I find it to be a little bit of a cop-out to say that our friendship was so long and involved that you can't think of any specific examples.


If we wanted a show about cancer, we would have ordered a drama.

Uh oh. I better drop this now. And when I say that, I mean that. I decided not to respond to her letter. And I'm not going to call her. I've deleted her number from my cell phone. That's sort of the big fuck you in the modern world. I've thought about it and something my sponsor said made the most sense:

I think you did a very good thing to contact her.......whether or not she responds as you might have wished, you did the did it thoroughly and honestly.....her reaction is very much her business and not yours. Leave her to God. That's all that can be done.

I have received great advice today. Great advice. It is her business. If she's unwilling to let it go, that's her business. If she hates me or dislikes me or harbors resentment towards me, that's her business. If she wishes me harm and never forgives me, that's her business. However she feels about me is her business and it doesn't mean whatever she thinks or feels is truth.

The only thing I can do is what my dear sponsor said:


And so, with that, I am letting it go. I am calling it a night. I really, truly, honestly just don't give a shit. I did. I gave a shit all day. Ever since I read the email I've been thinking, 'She knows I'm horrible. I'm a monster. She hates me. But what about what she did wrong? Why am I the bad guy? Doesn't she know how much I've changed? Doesn't she miss me? How could she dislike me so? I'm a lot less selfish now, doesn't she care? Doesn't she realize how much I put up with? I get it. I was so bad - well what about her?'

That's what they mean, I think, about taking other people's inventory.

I couldn't turn it off. Once the faucet was dripping there was no tightening of the pipes. The only thing that would work was to go to a meeting.

I SPILLED. I mean spilled. Tears and words and emotions and I felt loved and hugged. I felt cared about and useful. I got perspective. I got clarity. I am lucky.

I am healthy. I am happy (relatively). I am a good friend. I don't allow people to stay in my life any longer out of loneliness, history, or desperation + proximity. I don't need people in my life who aren't honest with me or themselves. And I do feel I've done what I can to find my part in this. There's nothing I can do about her feelings or repression or history. I just can't control any person place or thing. And I think what she might not fully understand but what I do is there was a time when I thought just the opposite of the above claim.

I really am sorry I hurt her. I really am. But there's nothing more I can do.

And if I was working on a show, well, this is what I'd say to the executive:

I love your shoes. Where'd you get them?

And then I'd try to figure out a creative way to address their notes so we could all go home because in the end, it's just a TV Show, we're not going to stay all night because we already tried like that and look what it got us? No. Now we're going to just do the best we can and

MOVE THE FUCK ON so we can be with our loved ones, be sane, and NOT ORDER DINNER.

I have my life to lead. I can't get stuck in the past. I can't keep beating a dead horse. Maybe the show isn't funny or isn't even good and if we all weren't so scared, we'd quit or do something else for a living or risk being honest and putting these wannabe writer-executives in their place.

As for the friendship - it's not as risky to surrender my feelings to God and drop any unrealistic goals to resume this friendship or be forgiven by this friend. In other words, from every angle, unlike a job, I can really, truly, simply WALK AWAY.

We choose not to regret the past or shut the door on it. Which is fine but...

I won't live in it either.

If that's what she chooses, so be it. I will pray for her. As for me, I'm sorry she's pissed but you know what, if it's between her and me, I'd rather her live with that feeling than me. And if it's between me and an executive, I rather they throw their balls around after what I thought was a good run-thru. They might have nice shoes, but I have the house.

xo, PM

How Much Time You Got?