Last night we drank again. It wasn't much, just a glass of scotch and then a glass of wine several hours later. The problem for me is that even the smallest amount of alcohol has negative conequences for me. The nxt day is almost always ruined, and even if it's not ruined, I never feel that great. I usually walk around in a funk with a slight headache the entire day, wishing that it was tomorrow so I could wake up feeling good. There is absolutely no question at this point that I am still an alcoholic and drinking should not be part of my life. Unfortunately, it has become very difficult for me to stop. HAM drinks, my dad drinks daily, and now DL is in town and she drinks with my dad. Last night I actually saw her a bit toasty. I spend most of my days dreaming about the future. Future-tripping, I guess would be the unofficial term. I want to be out of this house. I refuse to blame anyone else for my choice to drink, but I will say it's a fuck of a lot harder to stop when it's always around me, on the lips of my boyfriend, a part of our lives. I don't crave alcohol, I crave health, yet I'm not addicted to health, so acheiving it is more difficult. It's so easy to just say, "fuck it" and have a drink when HAM drinks, or ask my dad for a glass of wine. It's hard to say no, it's hard to not ask, it's hard to no give in to temptation. My therapist said that he doesn't think my drinking is out of control, and he is right about that, it's not "out of control". I'm not spending my days and nights blacking out, doing regrettable things, ending up in the hospital, or even causing the slightest bit of concern in anyone around me. My therapist says, however, that I should not drink because of how it makes me feel about myself. That is a self-esteem deterrent. I agree with that, but I would add that I believe any drinking that I partake in is out of control in the sense that I have declared my desire not to drink, yet I do it anyway. I think it would be easier for me to be sober if alcohol wasn't in my home and if the people I love were not drinking so regularly. I'm sure it would also be easier if I were to return to AA, but that's just not gonna happen as long as I'm in Washington. God, I just want to get out of here. I don't believe in geographicals, I know they are something that alcoholics like to believe will work for them, but I do believe in a need for a change. I am so sick with allergies and stressed out by traffic, depressed by gray skies and constant drizzle, lonely without a dog, and angry that I am stuck living with my dad. I would take a tiny, dumpy apartment over this big, comfortable house if it meant that I was taking care of myself and making it on my own. I want it to be a year and half from now...now. God, I am sounding like such a classic AA definition of an alcoholic, but I need a place to vent and this is it. This is what all of us continue to think about, sober or not. We are all selfish, we all want what we want right now, we are inpatient, stressed out, pissed off, and resentful of our current situations. If you have a lifetime of alcoholic decisions behind you, of course you're not going to be satisfied with your present state of affairs, because the present state of affairs is a result of poor alcoholic decision making. It's not that every day is bad. It feels worse today because it is the day after doing something I have set out not to do. I have spacey and tired, weak and foggy. I just want out of this house and this city. I don't even care that I live in the Northwest anymore--it's really not the weather or the hills or the traffic, as many places have hills, bad weather, and miserable traffic. It's not the Northwest but what the Northwest represents for me. It represents failure to care for myself. It represents my old life and who I used to be. I am trying to become a new person, I even changed my name, yet here I am in my dad's house, working less than 10 hours a week, not writing as much as I should be, strung out on the internet, and drinking despite my desire for optimal health. I know the saying , "Wherever I go, there I am" is real. I don't think that moving away from here is going to "fix" me, but I do think it will be good for me. I am just so tired of waiting. I want to be there now. In AA they say, "You're exactly where you're supposed to be". Let's just say that is the truth. Then what am I to learn from my circumstances? Do I need to learn humility--should I just suck it up and go back to AA to face all the people who hurt me and let them feel so self-righteous about being kind to me, the one who relapsed? God, I can't think of anything worse. Can't I just admit that alcohol doesn't work for me without having to be around such cruel and abusive people? I would give AA a try in another state, where I wouldn't have to see those people. I know they exist everywhere, but the very specific individuals who hurt me--I don't think it would make sense for me to want to be around those people again, and eventually (for step 9) have to apologize to them, when they were the ones who are at fault. I don't know how I could ever see that differently. I was in pain and reached out for help, I showed up, I always showed up. I did my service work and I got berated for not doing it the right way. I asked for help and I got stood up twice, ignored, and rejected. I tried to make friends, as difficult as it was, and got humiliated. I just can't see myself having to be around those people again. Which is why getting away from this place would be good for me and I can't get out soon enough. I think I should look into summer writing retreats and see if there is any way I can spend the summer away from here, focused on my writing. I can't think of anything more important than writing for me, so why not. It would be the perfect excuse to escape. No one could argue with me, because it would be for my career, my future. I refuse to believe that things are going to suck forever. The future has to be better than right now, whether it's helpful to think that way or not. I will do my best to make the present bareable, but I know that the future will be better.

Well, I have to say, today was a good day. At the beginning of the quarter, I ended up with a really terrible parking spot, so at every tuesday, my teacher drives me to my car after class. We talk about my book, grad school, whatever, and tonight she offered (I didn't say a word about it) to write me a letter of recommendation for my grad school applications! I love her. Her name is Theo Nestor and her blog is http://writingismydrink.com/. She is great! I feel so blessed to have this amazing teacher in my life and to have the money and opportunity to take this class. It is helping me so much. I always connect more with instructors than students--why is that? I can't call myself super smart or anything, I can't call myself a dummy either. I don't know what it is, I just feel safer with my teachers than my colleagues. But I feel so humbled that she just offered to write me a recommendation without any prompt. I know my goal here is to stop letting others dictate my worth and feelings, but still, it means a lot to me, and I think that is allowed. It's not like she decided whether or not I am worthy as a writer, but she reinforces my belief that this is what I am supposed to do. I plan to read her book over the break because 1.) I'm curious, 2.) It is respectful since she's reading my work and helping me with it, 3.) I'd like to know more about her as a person and a writer. Today was a good day for me. I feel grateful to be free of confining relationships, and able to pursue my calling, and even more so, I am grateful to finally acknowledge my calling, to fully give in to its power and accept that I am destined to be a writer, and to believe that one day I will be a good one.

I was going to write something tonight, but the damn Adobe Flash Player was being a bitch and now it's time to pick up HAM from work. I am in my memoir writing class now. Also, applying for full time jobs and going on interviews, secretly hoping I don't get hired so I can go to grad school and eventually become a professor of Creative Writing after I become a successful author. I am also making this AMAZING vegan minestrone soup regularly, which is not only saving me money, but delicious and healthy too. I am loving the whole cooking thing lately. I'm good at it and I am slowly converting HAM to veganism through example (never through pressure because that is guaranteed to backfire). HAM is getting worse and worse at saying "I love you" lately. It's so hard for him, even though it's easy for him to show me he loves me in every other way. Why are those words so hard for him to say? I am wearing my hair in pigtails for him RIGHT NOW. I made him soup. I am picking him up from work so he doesn't have to spend money on a cab. I told him today, just like Bryan Adams said, "Everything I do, I do it for you." And it's true - I always want to make him happy and keep him loving me. But he's so weird about just saying those three fucking words, even when he knows how happy it makes me. I mean, I know what makes him happy - pigtails, homemade food, deep-throating, and back massages. I do all of that for him. Why can't he just say "I love you" a few times a day? Why is that such a problem? But whatever, that's besides the point. The real point is I want to go to grad school, I want to be a professor. Becoming a "professional" will only deter me from that path and that sucks hairy balls. So anyway, thanks, Adobe, for making this post so short and wishy-washy. What I really wanted to say was something eloquent and poetic, with deep social underpinnings. But instead, this is it. Damn you, Adobe!

Well, I'm feeling much better today. Steve Jobs died today, and that's not why I'm feeling better, but Steve Jobs has had an influence on me today. I had never heard his Commencement Speech at Stanford until today, because the news has been playing clips of it on repeat. This part really hit home for me: 

    "When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live  each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be  right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33  years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If  today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about  to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days  in a row, I know I need to change something. Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've  ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because  almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of  embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of  death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are  going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you  have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not  to follow your heart."

It's true. I am not a lawyer. I suck at standardized tests and I hate competition at school. I come from a creative writing curriculum, where everyone sits around a room and "workshops" eachother's manuscripts. It's commeraderie, not competition. (Although getting published is highly competitive, we support eachother in class.) And I like that. I want to stay in school forever - I prefer it to the real world most of the time. I am happiest in a creative writing workshop. That's where my heart is, so that's where I belong. I don't want to look back on my life, and say, "Wow, I really did what I thought I should do," I want to look back and say, "Wow, I did everything I wanted to do." Rest in Peace, Jobs.