Living Proof

New Year resolutions are easily broken; much like people.  We feel too much.  We think too much.  We hurt too much.  A very good friend of mine is making an interesting New Year’s resolution... “We should live in the NOW and let everything else go.”    It sounds so easy to do.  It sounds like the perfect solution to all of our heartbreaks and disappointments in life.  Is it easier said than done?  Maybe.  What if we put all of our effort into it?  Are we trying too hard then?   Sometimes when we try too hard to forget about something, all we’re really doing is focusing on it.  It’s difficult to focus on the positive side of things when our economy is literally sinking, people are being killed senselessly in wars and our world as we know it seems to be shaken up by the devastations that people have turned it into.   I’ve been noticing that a lot of people have been internalizing all these negative things happening in our world into their own griefs - even if they have nothing to d

Sometimes there are things that just cannot be put into words. The struggles that we all deal with, whether little or big are all valid and important to us. Some people would brush it off as “not significant”, while others would make a huge fuss over whatever. What seems so small and petty can be the most important thing to someone else. Most times, people don’t even mention their “small and petty” needs because they think that it will be considered as silly or something that should be forgotten about. But who’s to say what’s important to each individual person? What bothers me may not be so significant to another person. I sometimes don’t say anything that’s bugging me because I feel like I’m bothering someone. Why bog them down with my little dramas? Why even let the story be told if it’s going to just float in one ear and out the other? Do people really listen? Do they really want to know your problems? Some do. But for the majority, I wonder. Then you have people wh

Madelene and I go through this every time we have to come to a decision of where and what we're going to have for dinner. It's been an ongoing thing for 14 years now. So last night, I decided to put the cam on so I can play with the effects on iMovie, and it didn't come out too bad, but again, it's the old version of iMovie. Still not happy.

Is it me or does Christmas sometimes bring out the worst in people? While reading the newspaper, I stumbled upon an article that told a story about a 45 year old man who had no record or history of violence who recently just got a divorce and ended up killing and injuring people at his ex-wife's Christmas Eve party. Some of those people included children. When he first knocked on the door, and eight year old girl answered. He was dressed up as Santa Clause. He pulled out a handgun and shot her in the face and then moved on to the rest of the party. He then killed himself afterward over at his brother's house 25 miles away. Some people call this "insanity". Scientifically, yes it can be called insanity for the amount of rage that one can delve into. But personally, I do "believe" that it's pure evil---not in the general sense either. Many years ago and still in some countries, people would have called it "being possessed by the devil".

It’s 10am, rainy and dismal out.  I have graduated from the PC to a Mac and absolutely loving it.  I thought I would never get used to the change, but there is really not much of a huge “change”, except for all the benefits of what a writer, artist, musician or filmmaker can get out of it.  I don’t know why I haven’t gone this route before.  I’m sitting next to the fire as it pours.  It’s Christmas Eve, and yet I haven’t finished shopping.  I should be in the shower getting ready, but I’m incredibly cozy and enjoying my new toy, thanks to Madelene.  It was her gift to me.  She was sick and tired of me foaming at the mouth over my Sony Vaio that kept getting viruses from day one.  Although that computer was an amazing machine, it had many flaw which made it frustrating. So now, I’m assured 99% of the time, I will remain safe from viruses from the skinny genius Mac-head that helped me pick my computer out at the Apple store.  Can I just tell you what an interesting experience I had wal

It was just a double espresso latte, not a four-course meal I ordered. The kid still took forever and a day to get it for me. He kept looking over at his co-worker with this question mark expression and his hands midway in the air as though he was saying, “I dunno what’s wrong with this thing.” I knew I’d be late for my AA meeting. I reached over the counter where I could see him to let him know that I’d be using the restroom while he’s still picking the beans off the goddamn tree. I came back and the girl (his co-worker) was serving her 5th customer as my boy was still brewing my java. He then came over with a bigger size than I ordered and charged me five and some change. I headed out the door and zoomed down the street to my dismal little stone church behind the graveyard for my meeting. Everything seems to be ass backwards over there. The doors push out and not in and the stairs are uneven with 3 steps here and 2 steps there. People usually fall right into sobriety -the hard way- t

The contractors that our homeowner’s association hired are now replacing a roof on top of a nearby building. By law, you’re allowed to start working at 7am, as far as high noise decibel levels go. I understand while you’re hitting a nail into a surface that you may get about 5-10 whacks in at a time, but these fellas are hitting the suckers at 50 whacks per nail. It’s almost comparable to having ten pileated woodpeckers right outside of your window. Good morning. Can you imagine if this was happening while having a hangover? Which is one of my favorite reasons about quitting booze. I may be a little high strung off the java brew, but I tell ya, I haven’t felt this great in so long for such a long span of consecutive days. Last night after coming home from dinner, I went to bed at 9pm and woke up at 7am (to the wood pecking construction crew of course), without waking up once. It’s a miracle. There had been countless mornings a couple of years back, where I’d wake up to numerous amounts

It started off as a method of process of elimination. I wanted to know what caused my sudden weight gain and also, what always kept me at a higher weight than most. I started drinking beer at the age of twelve. Before that age, I was a little skinny tomboy. I ate like all the other kids and ran amuck around the neighborhood. Weight was never an issue for me. Once, while drinking a huge can of Fosters with my old friend Geri, my mother came out on the deck and screamed at me. She said, “If you keep drinking beer you’re gonna get a potbelly!” Geri and I were hysterical. She brought it up the other day and we were laughing. Soon enough, the belly came. Some people call theirs a six pack---I call mine a keg. As I went through my teen years and early twenties, I knew I had gained some weight, but not enough where it would leave me depressed holding onto diet after diet. It wasn’t a concern. After I hit my thirties, all hell broke loose, as well as my buttons. I worked out, got a trainer, d

Fumbling for my car keys, I reached down into my bag and found them tangled up into the red flashlight that I had previously added onto my new collection of nonsense key chain mania. I didn’t need the flashlight, besides it was too heavy anyway. It was 6:45pm and pitch dark outside. The streetlights are a blessing around here. I had to make the 7 o’clock meeting. This was my first AA meeting I was ever attending. I hurried out to my car and zoomed off to the Catholic Church where they were holding the meeting. I knew where the church was, but when I pulled in, there were five different buildings on the property itself. I pulled up to where it was lit up the most. I looked around and was relieved to see other people were pulling in too. I waited for a couple of minutes. I then realized that the people who were coming out of their cars had children with them. It was more of a school-type of church with classrooms lit up on the right hand side of the building. I got out of the car and we

This morning is gorgeous! And by that, I mean it’s about 65 degrees here, cloudy, dismal----the perfect weather for me. I almost feel a tinge of tornadic possibilities. Anytime cold air meets the warm, it’s bound to kick up a few twisters now and then. I woke up to the sounds of rain falling on my windowpane. I woke up sober. It was beautiful. No headaches, no queasy stomach or the need to make one of my hangover concoctions. I made some delicious coffee and on my second cup. I never used to drink a second cup, but again, my addictive behavior tells me: one more cup! Hey, it’s better than ‘one more beer’. The wonderful and unfamiliar thing that has happened is, I had a hard time sleeping last night and got probably 5 hours in, however I feel like I have slept for 8 hours. When I was drinking, I was lucky I even got 4 hours in per night. Anytime I drank vodka, I’d fall asleep and then wake up two hours later with my heart racing, leaving me awake the entire night. My sleep was always in

…as an alcoholic; the person who maintained an illusion of sobriety while being three sheets to the wind. I was the one who proudly admitted I was an alcoholic. I had no problem drinking—I had two hands for each drink. “Come over for a beer!’ “Let’s go out for a drink!” “Let’s go wine tasting!” My life was surrounded by the good ol’ grape and potato juice. As a former bartender and one who makes drinks at everyone's parties, I knew what people liked. Drinks made to perfection and sometimes, an extra dose to loosen up the crowd. Oddly enough, although alcohol is a depressant, when I was completely down or upset, alcohol would make me “happy” and turn my grim mood around ….temporarily. I never knew that the long-term effects were depression and anxiety. I just thought alcohol cured it. I masked my anxiety and depression by drinking through it; self-medicating so to speak. I could always quit…if I wanted to. Sure, no problem, right? One evening while walking over to throw

My mom left me this funny message on Thanksiving morning, reminding me to preheat my oven. I thought it was the cutest thing, so I started saving her voice mails and adding them to videos. The very last video is my personal favorite. It reminds me of why I should never take advice from mom, even though I love her dearly. All of these videos are short. VIDEO 1: Thanksgiving Day VIDEO 2: A Post Thanksgiving Reminder---What To Do With Your Leftovers VIDEO 3: The Hospitalization of Both My Parents Good news... They're both doing well and home resting.

Forgiveness isn’t a feeling. It isn’t something that is done automatically. It’s a choice. Being hurt is a feeling. Remaining hurt is a choice. It’s difficult, but when we choose to remain hurt, we become the victim. We choose to be the victim because it “feels” better. By choosing to remain being the victim, somehow in our minds, we are getting back (or seeking revenge) toward the individual(s) who has hurt us in the past or present, when in fact they have probably resolved their issues and have completely gotten over it. Keep in mind a few things while I begin the steps: bitterness, anger, resentment and holding grudges can and will kill you both emotionally and/or physically. Depending on the type of person you are, you will experience a number of things while remaining the character of “the victim”: depression, low self-esteem and loneliness due to people avoiding your negative energy. People –even animals pick up on negative energy. If you remain bitter, most likely you are l