Somewhere in a Parallel Universe.....

Somewhere in a parallel universe, deep within the bowels of Corporate America, Mr. A.S. Hole has settled into his comfortable leather chair, and is ready for his assistant Nigel to brief him on new investment opportunities. Mr. Hole is anxious to expand his portfolio, and realize his lifetime ambition to be wealthier and more obnoxious than Donald Trump.

“Well Nigel m’boy, what do we have this week?” (Mr Hole often affects a “Winston Churchill” British accent)

“Mr Hole, I’ve got you a winner this week….it’s going to be BIG!”

“Get on with it then….”

With a flourish, Nigel turns on the overhead projector (no Steve Jobs or Bill Gates in this parallel universe)

“I give you………ALCOHOL!!”

Mr Hole looks at Nigel expectantly.

“Alcohol is a colourless liquid, that is made from rotting fruit that will REVOLUTIONIZE the WHOLE WORLD!!”

“Good God, boy – rotting fruit?? Didn’t I tell you never to bring me these half baked ideas again? I thought we were done with this after the debacle with the dried leaf sticks…”

“Sir, sir, this is different…..let me explain….”

Mr Hole waves his hand…”Get on with it….”

“Alcohol has many wonderful properties. Mixed with sweet flavouring, a person drinks it, and is almost instantly transported into a euphoric world, where troubles melt away like lemon drops, rainbows appear, and bluebirds sing…….(starts to hum)…..and people become happier, more confident, more loving, and much better dancers”

“Dancers?”

“Yes sir…..it’s a beautiful thing……..”

“And will people pay for it?”

“Yes Sir… that’s the best part, once they’ve had Alcohol just one time, they want it again and again…..

”

Mr Hole sits up in his chair…..” What’s the marketing plan on this one Nigel?”

“Well Sir, after the success with Botox last year, we decided to roll it out in Palm Springs….”

“Hmmph, good idea. I don’t like the name ‘Alcohol”, can we come up with anything better than that?”

“That’s the beauty of it Sir, we can brand it to suit any demographic”

“Excellent, do we have any celebrity endorsements?”

“Dean Martin is all over it Sir”.

Mr Hole sits back in his chair thinking.

“You know Nigel, this sounds promising and everything, but for a really good investment, I like to target the masses…rich people are extremely important, but to really hit it big, I need to get a foothold in that other market…you know, the others……the…

“Poor people, Sir?” said Nigel helpfully….

“Yes, yes…..those people……”

“Well Sir, that’s the beauty of this liquid, it’s just a matter of marketing….for the rich people, we package it in elegant bottles, with expensive looking labels……for the poor people, well, it can go in tins……or even cardboard boxes…..AND, the message is slightly different…..here….”

Nigel changes the slide on the Overhead projector to reveal a slogan….

“Alcohol….Takes the Edge off Your Miserable Life”

“I like it, I like it……..any downside??”

“Well Sir, it can make you feel a bit sick and give you a headache, so we’ve had a bit of a backlash from the Lobbyists………and, sometimes Sir…….

“What?”

“Sometimes it can kill you……apparently it is a poison…..but overall I think the benefits outweigh a few deaths……

Mr Hole wags his finger at Nigel…

“Listen here m’boy, you know I won’t support anything that can do harm, REGARDLESS of all the money I could make….so we must listen to the Lobbyists, they keep this Corporate world honest and transparent, they are the backbone of our democracy!!”

A short silence followed by raucous laughter.

“Oh, Mr Hole” said Nigel wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, “you got me there!”

“Ha, ha, yes, this Alcohol thingy is going to make me a rich man! So no Lobbyist will ever stand in my way….why, it’s more likely that we will have….have a….

“Woman President Sir?”

Silence.

“Never joke about that, m’boy”.

Day 50 It takes a Drunk to know a Drunk

There has only been one person in my life that has called me a drunk.

This was last year, many months before I put down my wine glass for good, but my first reaction was not of denial or outrage but "takes one to know one...."

The lady (I'll call her L) who shone a spotlight into my darkness, was (is) not a friend. We were thrown together by the enduring friendship of our husbands.

During our first meeting, we established a mutual loathing, and ironically, a mutual comradery.

The unspoken comradery existed because of our shared love of alcohol, and also because we provided each other with a useful metric for our drinking habit..

"God, at least I don't drink as much as L...... " , I have been known to utter (both internally and externally, to focus attention away from me)

I am sure that L used me in the same way.

My husband and his friend were seemingly oblivious to the tension between L and I, until we finally had an argument that culminated in angry words fueled by alcohol, and the ensuing name calling.
My husband and his friend put it down to 'girl drama" and ignored it, they took to meeting for lunch occasionally, and the boozy dinner foursomes stopped.

Being called a drunk was one of many incidents that would finally form the tipping point for me.

Looking back, I remember one afternoon when L and I were together waiting for our husbands to arrive back from fishing.
She had just arrived back from a trip to visit her family, and mentioned that one of her cousins had stopped drinking.
"I was looking forward to sharing a bottle of wine with her" said L "but it turns out she's an alcoholic, and doesn't touch it any more"
She went on to say...."You know what, I sometimes wonder if I am......"

It would have been so easy for me to say " You know what? Me too, maybe we should do something about it....". But I didn't.

It was convenient for me to have someone who was far worse than me....

I recalled this conversation when the other day my husband mentioned casually that he had met up with his friend for lunch.

"L had a bit of a meltdown" he said. " She got herself into a rage and drove her truck through the gates in the front yard"
'Luckily (friend) managed to stop her before she drove into town....she was very drunk"

A year ago I would have feigned alarm and sympathy, while internally ticking off another box on the list "Reasons Why L is a Worse Drunk than Me"

Now I just wish that I had responded when she was so obviously reaching out for help. 

Day 49 . Is Sober the New Gluten-Free?

Anyone remember that marvelous scene in "Shirley Valentine", where she shrieks out the window, "I'm going to have sex for breakfast, sex for lunch and sex for tea...it's the BLOODY F - PLAN DIET!!"

I've just finished reading the awesome Sober Mummy's blog post today "Stop Drinking, Lose Weight?" and for some reason it reminded me of Shirley Valentine, and how she goes off to find herself, her lost youth and lost opportunities....I feel like I'm on a Shirley Valentine journey right now, only I didn't have to go to  Greek Island (sounds lovely though), I just had to put down the bottle...

Anyhoo, getting back to the vague point of today's ramblings, I had a bizarre conversation with one of my sister-in-laws yesterday ( I have mentioned her briefly before, but to catch you up in two words "complete bitch")

SIL " Glass of wine Jackie?"
ME " No thanks, water will be fine, it's so hot"
SIL 'Oh the wine's chilled"
ME "Actually I've given up drinking"
SIL "Really?"
ME "Yes"
SIL "I've given up wheat"
ME "Really?"
SIL "Yes. I think I'm gluten -intolerant"
ME "Oh dear"
SIL " Yes. No bread for me"
ME " That must be challenging, no pasta or muffins or anything then. A complete lifestyle change"
SIL. "Oh, I've only given up bread. it's just the wheat that I can't take"

Short Silence.

ME " Well that's too bad"
SIL "Yes it's hard"

Short Silence

SIL " Are you Wine- Intolerant?"
Me " Yes, I guess I am"

SIL " Would you like a beer ? I'm having one...."

Have a great weekend everyone.xx

Day 48 - A Creative Whizz? Me?

I do not have a creative bone in my body.

That has been my stance for the whole of my life.

I was not good at Art in school, or domestic science (but seriously, who IS good at this and who cares?), or woodwork (co-ed school), metal work (really? welding?) and Horticulture was a fancy word for chain gangs of truants clearing the wasteland behind the bike sheds.

I was, however, good at English Lit and I announced to my parents that I loved writing and was going to be a journalist ( I secretly wanted to be a novelist, but journalist sounded like something I could get paid for, and therefore my middle class parents would approve).

I won't bore you with descriptions of the raised voices and slamming doors, but my first job was with Lloyds Bank, and when that totally sucked the soul out of me, I became an accountant, and it was the day that creativity finally died. For me.

So I told myself that I was "analytical" rather than "creative" and I have avoided all contact with creative activities and fluffy, airhead creative types until now.

I find myself married in to a family of artists - how the hell did that happen? (misrepresentation - that's how!).

And one of these creative types was looking at my serious analytical online business and remarked that I might get a few more clients if my advertising was a bit more "colourful". Whaaatt?

The only colour decision that I have concerned myself with  recently is... "red or white wine?' so this was a completely alien concept, but I did concede that my website, my facebook page and just about everything with my business was drab and uninspiring.

So, I did something that was unthinkable about 50 days ago - I set out to learn something new.

I signed on to a free live webinar, hosted by a lovely lady in the UK who runs The Business Beautician , and got out of bed at 5.00am in the morning to attend.

What a revelation! Firstly that I can actually get out of bed at 5.00am in the morning (impossible in the non sober days), and secondly..... I learned LOTS and LOTS - how to design my own stuff, how to brighten up E-books, make eye catching advertisments...

I spent the whole of yesterday completely absorbed - it's been so long since I was so engrossed in a project that I totally forgot the time.

I posted (nervously) a couple of my creations in my online business group. "Wow", posted one lovely lady "You are a creative whiz!"

Day 46 - The Worse News Possible

Day 46. I got frantic text from my stepson to tell us that his very best friend, Josh, has passed away.
Josh was 35 years old. He and Jason were as close as brothers.
They were the last rebels in their crowd. Both bachelors, they lived life without commitments, cares, worries or constraints
When they got together, they lived at full throttle - both thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies - there was no extreme sport that was out of their radar - they really did live as though they were invincible.

Over the last year, I watched Jason slow down a bit. He stopped drinking as much, and never one for many recreational drugs, he stopped dabbling with magic mushrooms and weed.

He and Josh traveled together last winter. Jason is a commercial fisherman, so he works only six months of the year and Josh is (was) a helicopter pilot, working with a fire fighting unit in BC.

They went to South America - Nicaragua, Belize, Brazil, Costa Rica - for about three months.
Jason lives to travel. He is a savvy, seasoned traveler, he wants to experience local people, customs, food - and he makes friends easily. Like his Dad, he has an engaging smile, and has this ability to stretch over to another table in a restaurant, interrupt the conversation, and by the end of the evening, have made new friends, and plans for the next day.
But, he never takes risks. The same man who will base jump from Half Dome Mountain in Yosemite, does not walk down dark alleys, frequent the shady part of town, or dress in flashy clothes. I have never worried about Jason while he has been on excursions.

This time was different. It was the first time that Jason and Josh had traveled for any length of time. They had planned this trip for their whole adult life, and finally the plans became reality.

Within a week Jason was texting and facebooking us. Josh had gone on a wild bender - in Nicaragua. He had been lured out of a bar by a prostitute, had been drinking and doing lines of coke, and was missing by the time that Jason got to the bar.

After 24 hours he turned up. The girl (and accomplice) had knocked him out, stolen his hotel key and ransacked the hotel room - all his credit cards had gone, passport, everything.

Jason was both relieved to see Josh alive, and furious with him for being so stupid. They carried on their trip, in the hope that Josh had learned his lesson, but sadly not. After another two weeks of full on drinking, drug taking and partying with prostitutes (Josh), Jason finally lost his temper when Josh was drunk and obnoxious to a waiter in a restaurant.

Jason took off for a month on his own. At the end of the trip, he met up with Josh again, and they patched up their differences, but it was never the same.

Jason didn't want the wild life any more. He didn't (doesn't) want to get an office job, and have two weeks by the seaside as his annual holiday, but he has started to value his life. His risks are a little more calculated, he acknowledges his own mortality.
Today he is broken hearted. And there are no words that I or anyone can say that will comfort him.

He asked me to find photos of Josh to send to the family for the memorial service on Saturday. Jason is flying home to attend.

There are many pictures of Jason and Josh, but this one stands out.

Day 45

Day 45! I missed a couple of days posting this blog, and I really missed it!
It seems that I have to remind myself that this is really happening, I am going to be a NON- DRINKER forever!! And Ever.
At some point, I will stop counting days. I will stop hesitating to think what I should say when someone offers me a glass of wine....in fact, someday, nobody will offer, because I am a NON-DRINKER!!

When I was very young, I got married to my best friend. We never should have got married, we should have remained best friends. However, everyone in our crowd was getting married - so hey! Why not?
We planned the big day - although my mother said occasionally, "what's wrong? It feels like I am dragging you up the aisle!!" (Red Flag, don't you think?)
I joked with my Dad in the car going to the Church - "If it all goes wrong, can I come home" (self fulfilling prophecy maybe?)
And when I finally walked up the aisle, although I was extremely happy and excited for my new future, in the back of my mind came the nagging thought "is this really forever?"

Less than two years later, we separated, and finally divorced. It was as as amicable as these situations can be. I wasn't ready for FOREVER, and as it turns out, neither was he.

Three years ago, on 7th July I married again. There was no white dress, no church, just us, close family and a group of friends by a lake, with a barbeque and a Justice of the Peace.

There wasn't the euphoria and excitement of the first wedding, just a calm, peaceful feeling that this was (is) forever, and that it is the best decision I have ever made in my life.

Like Sobriety. It's not a starter marriage. It's forever. And it's beautiful.

Day 42 - I'm a Carrot Person.

No, I'm not orange.
I love rewards. I am motivated by the carrot, not the stick.
In school, I loved gold stars, A pluses, the "well done"'s. And as I got older, I still craved approval.
I did almost everything, in the hope that someone would say 'Good job, Jackie!"
When it dawned on me that we don't get accolades for normal things like holding down a job, paying bills on time, and keeping the car serviced and clean, I began to make grandiose plans in the hope that one day, I would get thunderous applause for my achievements.
Now, I know that there is nothing wrong with Big Dreams, but mine were all for the wrong reasons.
Consequently, I became a Really Good Starter.....but I rarely followed through on any project.
I think, looking back, that I used wine firstly as a "reward" and then to take the edges off my disappointment in myself.
And so began a vicious circle, I was drinking because I wasn't doing anything I was proud of, and no-one else was proud of me either, and because I was drinking, I was less likely to do anything to raise my self esteem....and so on...
I am slowly learning the lesson that self esteem and pride comes from within, not externally. I know the theory, it's getting to grips with the practical part that's taking the time.
I am looking at parts of my business, and trying to sort out the bits that make my heart sing, and the parts that I am doing for other people's approval.
I am starting projects in the home, because they bring me peace, or a sense of accomplishment - like my garden.
I am cleaning the house, and de-cluttering because it helps me to feel orderly, not because I am wanting my husband to compliment me.
I'm not drinking wine because of the way it makes me feel to be sober - proud of myself, and calm.
And yet....when I do get a pat on the back....it does feel nice.....I opened the fridge last night and found an unexpected reward inside....... "you've worked really hard on the garden, and the business, and it's Friday! - my husband said.
The funny thing? It's a carrot cake.