I tried to put this meme in my last post, but couldn’t; I think I have problems posting from my phone sometimes because the screen is cracked.
As many junior high transplant non-sports-playing introverts, I was un-cool. Music listening became an obsession of mine; a way to create my own fantasy world with my fantasy boyfriend, Corey Hart. Perhaps it’s a good thing that the Internet had not been invented because I probably would have been up late at night watching the videos for “Sunglasses at Night” and “Never Surrender” non-stop . Luckily it was a time when MTV only played music videos and Corey Hart was in heavy rotation . Also a time of magazines such as a Teen Beat, Tiger Beat and BOP , which during Hart’s brief popularity provided fantasy – crush hope as well as poster pull-outs that I plastered to my wall. Even though the teenage popularity tides changed quickly, and Hart was replaced by the more popular Coreys – Feldman and Haim – I stayed true to MY Corey.
First Offense, Boy in a Box, and Fields of Fire were on constant cassette tape rotation, I proudly wore my Corey Hart badge buttons on my bleached jean jacket, and I made a Corey Hart scrapbook. I had an intense feeling that if Corey Hart and I did not marry, we would at least become good friends.
However this obsession was turned into a “secret” upon moving to Minnesota. My first boyfriend introduced me to the Replacements, Suburbs and Husker-Du, and I became a Midwest punk with a secret pop-rock love raised on Rock-n-Roll. The first boyfriend and I broke up after a few months, not because of Corey but I think partly to due with the boss;my most treasured Xmas gift that year was the cassette box set of Bruce Springsteen & The E Street Band/1975-85. “Growing Up” was my secret anthem while I publicly wore all black, had a punk haircut of many colors, and slam-danced to the Violent Femmes.
But I really never gave up on Corey. When I was 21 and working in New Mexico for the summer one of my best college friends won tickets from a local radio station in Minnesota for a private party with Corey
Hart; I am still jealous to this day. And if you are ever out in public with me and “Sunglasses at Night” is played on the radio, expect an excited spaz dance reaction combined with the “shush” signal of my pointer finger to my lips.
Mike Doughty is a musician in long term recovery. When I was first in recovery, I could not get enough of listening to him, and did not even know he was “like me”- not until the release of his memoir, Book of Drugs.
I also finally watched The Anonymous People this week, which I highly recommend for anyone in recovery or who advocates recovery.
Bass and I are actually away for the weekend visiting his mother in the middle of Wisconsin. So instead of posting a sobriety song (which I’ve failed to do for a month) I’ll post pics of our place in a small Southeastern Minnesota town.
We live in the bottom half.
Beginnings of a home.
Basses and musical things.
Tech boards make me hot.
With the onslaught of freelance writing work, I have a fear that I will post even less (if that’s even possible) on the blog. So each Sunday I will post a song that either speaks directly to sobriety, addiction or moving positively forward. And on the subject of moving, Bass and I are making a home together.
Yes, I know it’s super quick but it’s just happened this way for three important reasons:
- Bass needed to move into a new place first of February.
- I need to move into a place by March, and would have to live with a roommate because my income is tiny.
- Life is short. Love is infinate. When you feel it, give it. When you receive it, unconditionally, it is a blessing. Accept it. A good relationship is a very precious; don’t waste your life if you know its right.
But I’m also cautious so here are the steps in place in case things go astray, although hate to put this out into the Universe. This is the healthiest relationship I have ever been in, but I also want my readers, friends and family to know I have thought this through.
- The lease is month-to-month.
- Bass can afford the place on his own.
- I know women with whom I can live. I would have to find more income sources, though.
I’ll post pictures of our new place in another post this week. Also, the name of the blog will be changed to reflect the changes in my life. Now, here’s your Sunday Sobriety Song:
Today I celebrate two years of sobriety for the third time. I believe the third time is the charm, but this is where I need to be cognitive of maintaining my mental health, my sobriety and monitoring my behavior by practicing mindfulness and other DBT skills. I cannot, for even a second, believe “I got this!” because that is my downfall. My ego takes over and I think “I’m normal.”
And by normal I mean someone who does not have alcoholism or bi-polar. This time around, I know there is no normal and I am not less than nor greater than anyone else on this planet. My goal is to continue to stay on my path, one day at time, and make it to four years of sobriety AND BEYOND.
Four because the first time around I maintained 3 ½ years of non-drinking and the second time around 2 ½ years. In two years my son will be graduating from high school so maybe a mom & son road trip for my fourth soberversary. Or a trip of my own if I am still in the uncool mom status.
Having another two years is scary, for which I am grateful. This means I still realize that alcohol can make me her bitch when I take that first sip. I need to remember that I do not have another suicide attempt, “get out of the hell you made” for free card left in me. Life is very precious. And I’ve almost successfully ended mine in the past, due to not maintaining my mental health and trying to numb the feelings away with alcohol. By the grace of God (Goddess, Mother Nature, Great Spirit, Buddha, and Father Sun) go I. Alcohol NEVER has given me grace. She’s made me her BITCH. May she rest in peace.
Black Friday is the Black Plague of Americans’ souls. WTF, opening stores at 4 p.m. Thanksgiving? I’m afraid to leave the family homestead today, but we have places to go, people to see. But at this moment I shall listen and share the music of this fair city:
Trampled by Turtles on David Letterman
Low, “Just Like Christmas”