Monday Dare: crack is whack

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Do, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Projectstarted, and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please feel free to throw them my way. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week: Reflect on sobriety. Celebrate progress.

Harv recently claimed that I was a Ringleader of Debauchery. It’s the nicest thing he’s ever said to me.

While I’m flattered by my new title, it’s just one more reason to stop and examine the real root of all my vices. Sure, shopping was a big part of my past, but I’ve got to be honest with you…I’ve been addicted to a lot more than shopping.

I did a shit-ton of drugs. I’ve whored around. I’ve consumed more high-fructose corn syrup than I’d like to admit. I’m a recovering scrapbook-aholic. Drugs, men, food, shopping- the scenery is different, but it stems from the same place. An addictive personality.

I finally quit drugs after I accidentally smoked crack.

Out one night, I met a man who met my Winner Requirements. Short, acneic and sporting unkempt toenails, he was a man I needed to know. How brave of him to be in public with Tabasco on his Yankees jersey. What an absolutely fascinating man. 

We talked for a few minutes. He told me about his cat. I told him about my love for puffed stickers with a dash of glitter. He asked if I would like to share a snow cone sometime.

He called me the next morning and said that while I wasn’t the prettiest girl he met the night before, he liked my hair, so he was giving me first dibs to hang out with him that evening. Son of a bitch was smooth.

I, of course, accepted the invitation.

We shared a snow cone. He asked if I like cocaine. I gave him the “Duh” face and then a hopeful nod. Cocaine was my drug of choice, and I couldn’t believe I was about to luck out on this date with half a snow cone AND drugs.

I went back to his dingy apartment. Instead of handing me a vial; he handed me a small, clear pipe. He asked if I had ever smoked cocaine before. I confessed that I hadn’t but that I was up for anything. Because, you know, I was cool.

Hours later, as I was gathering my sweater and my messenger bag to leave, he smirked and told me that I was the funniest crackhead he had ever known.

Wait, what? What’s this crackhead business? Too embarrassed to ask, I left his dirty apartment in a hurry, went around the corner and called my friend. “The kind of cocaine you smoke…what’s that called?”

“Crack.”

The revelation that I was doing something that I couldn’t even accurately name, with a man whose last name I didn’t even know, who was too cheap to buy me my own snow cone, filled me with shame and embarrassment and regret. It’s the last time I ever did drugs.

Tomorrow, I’m officially halfway through The Project. These last six months have given me a chance to reflect on the vices I’ve had and what a profound impact it’s made in my life to give each of them up.

What have you given up that’s led to a profound change in your life?
the comments today are truly inspirational. take a minute to leave one of your own or in support of another reader. y’all fucking rock. 

image via blueq.com

i did this to myself

I’m considering stabbing my eyes out with a rusty butter knife. It’s the only way I’ll be spared one more viewing of Cal’s page-a-day 365 Dogs calendar. It’s been a daily event in our home for the last week. Best part? I bought the calendar for her. I did this to myself.

Cal has been asking for a calendar since December.

Cal: Can I get a calendar?

Me: No ma’am, we don’t buy calendars before they go on sale for a $1.

Cal: Don’t you want me to know the correct date to write on homework?

Me: For an average savings of $11.99 per calendar, I’d rather you be confused for the first 45 days of each year. You still have 320 other days to get it right. Think! 

I stopped by the bookstore last week to buy her a calendar. I picked the page-a-day 365 Dogs because the box was just so convincing.

America’s Bestselling Dog Calendar. 4.8 Million Copies Sold

Yes, I’ll take me one of them, please. I’m easily influenced. I consider it one of my better qualities.

Each morning, after she gets dressed, she tears off a new page. I know she’s torn off a page because I either hear a.) squealing, b.) “awwwww,” c.) “cuuuuuuuuute,” or d.) “that’s SO funny” from across the hall.

Then, she comes over to show us. She always asks us the same question, “What do you think the dog is thinking?”

Um. I don’t what. What does a terrier think about as he’s standing on a rocky precipice with a blue bandanna around his neck? His last talk with his therapist about switching antidepressants?

What does a bulldog think when he’s dressed up as a bride at the altar? A prenup?

What about a pug with a sombrero? What’s he thinking about? A margarita?

I did this to myself.

image via JessicaHische.com

Monday Dare: spork-tastic

Every Monday, I’m picking from the List of Things to Do, Places to Go, Possible Acts that Help and Possible Fun to Have. It’s a list I made before The Project started, and I’m still adding to it. If you have suggestions, please feel free to throw them my way. I’m calling the list my Monday Dares, as I get overwhelmed just looking at the words “challenge” or “goal.”

This week: Take a closer look and Follow directions.

Two things thrilled me as a kid- a helium balloon from the Balloon Man at the mall and a Slurpee from 7-Eleven. My mom reserved these special treats for Extra Good Behavior or an Extra Special Occasion. Maybe my brother and I had successfully managed not to kill each other on a non-school day. Balloon Time. Maybe I turned off the television and pretended to read a book when my mom walked into the room. Slurpee Time.

A few months after moving to Texas, my parents got a new car. A Volkswagen Quantum. It was fancy. All four windows worked, and there weren’t any cigarette burns in the front seat console.

To celebrate, my mom took us to 7-Eleven for a Slurpee.

I got my usual- half Blue Raspberry and half Wild Cherry. I never used the scoop straws 7-Eleven provided for my brain freeze enjoyment. Instead, I saved the extra sporks we got from our meals at Kentucky Fried Chicken and brought one along each time we went for a Slurpee. I made a game of trying to get the extra generous portions into my mouth before the slush drizzled through the short prongs.

Too bad the excitement of a brand new car made me forget the spork. Damn. I begrudgingly took a scoop straw and began enjoying my little treat. Then, I noticed the picture logo on the side of the cup.

“Pitch in.”

Oh, hmmm, I guess I need to “pitch in” with my red scoop straw to get maximum benefits from my frozen delight. 

As soon as we got inside the car, I started “pitching” the straw up and down inside the Slurpee. I took a sip. Not bad. Maybe all that agitation was bringing out the flavor. So I “pitched in” a little more. Before I knew it, all the straw action created a hole in the bottom of my cup, and Slurpee began to bleed out of the bottom onto my floral bike shorts and all over the upholstery. I yelled for napkins.

My mom turned around at a stoplight and saw the mess. Without saying a word, she pulled into the nearest gas station, got out, opened the back door, and gave me a whack on the head. Then another. Then another. Hair was flying everywhere and flecks of Slurpee were getting all over the backseat. When I explained that the logo on the cup was responsible for the mess, she took a good look at it and yelled that had I taken a closer look, I would have realized that it was a picture of a person throwing a piece of trash into a trash can as a reminder to throw away my cup. Which she did.

The Slurpee left a sad little red trail all the way to the dumpster. I knew I was going to get a spanking when I got home, so I spent the remainder of the car ride licking my fingers and scooping up the bigger dollops of Blue Raspberry Wild Cherry on my biker shorts. It was a celebration Slurpee, and I was determined to enjoy it…in a cup or on my pants.

Have you ever gotten in trouble by not taking a closer look or following directions?