March 28, 2005

It's not often that you get to experience the joy of your grandmother siezing you by the throat, glaring into your eyes, and saying, "You better stay clean." Easter was fantabulous this year. This is what I feared most when I told my family about my addiction; The walking on egg-shells, avoiding the subject, and the judging looks. Part of me knows that it is a minimal charge to pay, considering the alternative, being ostrasized. God knows I have walked as a pariah at points in my life. A self-styled loner, that's me. I don't know if it's just me or if people truly do set me apart for some reason. God knows I can be a strange duck.

Which leads me to ponder the saying, Lord love a duck. It is generally used as an exclamation to a situation that is just too outrageous and unbelievable.

Example:

John: Yeah, I was in a 12 car pile-up and walked away without a scratch.
Jane: Oh, lord love a duck!

Now I don't know what God's love for the bread-loving, aquatic bird has to do with outrageous situations, but for my mother it was the perfect saying to use. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she was married to a man named Drake at the time. I wonder if she doesn't have some fetishistic preoccupation with ducks.

Thankfully, we didn't have any duck for dinner. I sat at that long table and watched everyone drink around me. It's hilarious to me that my grandmother precedes her reminder to me to be sober with a gulp of her gin and tonic. God knows that ethanol loosens up the human tongue dramatically. Alcohol used to be my favorite lubricant at family functions. I could be the center of attention, lively and humorous, while easily answering the tedious questions about work, life and love. "Do you have a girlfriend? How do you like your job?" Alcohol can provide you with witty answers and comments that steer the conversation to topics that reek of merriment.

But I choose survival. Alcohol may have done all that and more in the past, but it extracts too much from me in return. If I am in this thing for the long haul I must curb my lust for life in some areas and direct it towards greener pastures and sunnier avenues.

Now is the hour to be content. God has blessed me with a new day, and each breath I take is an affirmation of the precious life that we all sometimes take for granted. God knows I need to appreciate all that I have. God knows that I live one day at a time. It's time for me to stop believing these things and time for me to truly know them as if they were etched on my soul.

It rained pretty hard here over the past couple of days. The ground is soaked and the grass squishes and makes little sucking sounds when you walk on it. It’s as if it was trying to drag you down below the surface.

Soon, the sun will come like it always does, strong and steady. The stems will push their way up the dirt and reach heavenward and the roots will grow deeper and anchor them in place.. In the meantime though…

The earthworms slither their way up through the soft soil
and bask in the early morning dew
Little do they know that for many of them
that their fate is sealed

Some will become food for hungry birds
Others will be baked into shriveled brown husks by the afternoon sun
Either way, they will return to their home in the ground
In one form or another

Either as shit or as dust
We are not as different
As we’d like to think

Getting hitched. This Friday. Seemed like a good day to do it. I picked up the marriage license today -- I was amazed I could do it without Craig there. This was the easiest wedding to plan ever -- I called our favourite restaurant, found out they'd cater at $28 bucks a head and booked a reservation for 18. Done. With many thanks to the Universal Life Church we'll have a friend do it right there during dinner. Perhaps between the soup and salad courses, or maybe over dessert. Sweet.