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Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I reject your reality...and substitute it for my own.

My reality. My world. It's not for everybody.

There have been times when I made a valiant effort to listen to those around me, and to act on the advice given, at least for awhile.

But the advice was always vague, at least to me. "Be like everyone else...get a normal job...settle down...stop being so damn creative and work hard for a living...and on, and on."

But one thing was for certain, this time, I was giving sobriety a shot. I went to meetings, and I got a sponsor, and I did the work. I looked under my personal rocks, and showed the white, squirmy shit underneath the light of day, and I worked at a job I didn't much care for, but I stayed clean.

I was waiting tables again, this time in the West End at a high volume, spaghetti themed joint that catered to tourists and rednecks from Mesquite, for some reason. A Wal-martians idea of Eye-talian food, I suppose.

The money, for 1988 was pretty decent, and I even talked my brother into working with me for awhile. God love him. Everyone was sleeping with each other and getting wrecked on substances, both legal and not but he hung in there. Hated it, but he did it.

But I was sober, and I got into an annoying habit of explaining myself and my choice of self imposed abstinence and became pretty freaking annoying to those who would listen. The newly converted are often like that. I have mellowed with age.

I hung out with my best friend who was still partying like a rock star and who now has been in recovery for over eight years, married for a million and has two great sons and his own business to show for it. I took him to his first meeting then (as I felt a bit responsible for shoving him down a certain path) and it took him quite some time to put down the bong, but he did it and I love him for it.

We met in high school, he a wide eyed innocent and me, well, we know all about me. I turned him on to weed and tequila and his own story reads like something I wish I could make up. One particular story comes to mind...

I was overseas and he was going to film school at SMU. He was also ass deep in a crack cocaine addiction and working as a balloon delivery mime. Yep, a mime. I cannot make this shit up.

One night after a delivery, dressed in full white face and mime drag (rainbow suspenders no less) his car ran out of gas, after dark, in Oak Cliff. I failed to mention he is of Norwegian heritage. And yes, he was in white face. The only white face within many miles.

The fact that he lived through that without so much as a minor injury is all the testimony I need to know that there is a God, and that at times he can be one downright twisted deity.

So we would all work till the wee hours, have late night Mexican food then water ski during the day. I brought twin sisters from the restaurant out to the boat one day and they then and there forever became the 'ballast twins' for largely apparent reasons. Stunning work, God...I remember them fondly.

As we forgot the ski's (it was my buddy's boat...) we bought a slalom ski at a gas station/bait shop on Lake Ray Hubbard. It was, as far as we could determine, an ironing board with a foot cup screwed onto it. I think it sank when we put it in the water.

The twins declined any future invitations to enjoy the lake.

It was during this time frame that fate determined I should be given another shot at a relationship and I met a very substantial her. Long, thick and curly red hair, and an hourglass figure. She was also crazier than a rat in a coffee can and later gave birth to my twin daughters and married me due to a bad joke neither one of us called off.

If you're a waiter...never marry your hostess.

No comments:

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...