goodlittlegirl's Blog

Stands for ski kids in debt. That was us. A motley crew to say the least. Sex, drugs, drinking and the love of outdoors. Ive now lost 3 good friends to the results of using drugs and alcohol. 

This is my friend - went by the handle Taco. He was from Ithica NY. Cut that short it's Thaca and eventually became Taco. He was killed yesterday in an ATV accident. Died instantly. Alcohol was involved. Just feel so weird. 

RIP Taco
You and Chuckie better not spy on me in the shower from heaven. I love you dude. 

Peace

Wow. Shit sure has changed since July 24th 2012.  Figured I’d write a bit seein as I haven’t had much time as of late to spend here in the ether.
 
And that’s a good thing in its self.
 
In four days I will have reached 9 months clean and sober. Longest I’ve ever made it. Most of you who have got to know me here on EP know the back story. Messy and complicated. Struggles and victories but always some sort of progression.
 
 
I have truly enjoyed getting to know a bunch of you. Your support and encouragement has been a blessing. Ya it’s ‘only’ the internet but so what. I value this.  It hasent been easy this ‘getting sober’ business.  A good man taught me a little something about being open and honest and ironically it is also mentioned in the Big Book of AA.
 
Honest, Open and Willing
 
Being honest and open means being vulnerable-and that is not always easy But then again no one said living life on lifes terms was gonna be.Worth it in the long run? Fuck yes. 

I have changed and continue to change everyday. With out change there is no growth and with out growth well……its just the same.
 
Today I accept myself. Might even like myself a bit too. I love the person I am becoming. More confident. More proud. More patient. More Accepting. I care less and less about what other people think these days. Something I’ve wanted to feel for a long, long time.
 
But as it is written,
 
‘faith without works is dead’
 
I had to take action. Shit doesn’t just change because you ‘hope’ it will. I’ve put in a lot of hard work. Taken a look at my defects as scary as that was. Figured out my patterns, the whys and built that dam tool box I needed. About that tool box and the above quote. When shit isn’t going well, or I’m stressed I can’t just sit and hope that box opens itself. Cause it’s not gonna.
 
ME. I gotta go and lift the top up, reach in there and grab a hold of my tool.  Not only that. I gotta USE it. Seems simple right? But for me sometimes its not. I need to remind myself every day.
For now things are good. I’m working hard. I have goals. I’m being present for my son.  Don’t get me wrong it’s not always warm and fuzzy. But I know that if I just continue to do what I need to do, stay sober and do the next right thing life is gonna work itself out.
 
Peace

I find how much things can change when looked at from a different perspective fascinating. Sometime that’s all it takes. We all have our own struggles to muddle through, to understand, fix, change or whatever it is that you do. I am not unique in that aspect.

I have laid out an exceptionally strong foundation for myself. That is important to my success. My foundation is my rock. It withstands earthquakes, storms and what ever life throws at it. If it is strong enough, when the air clears and all is quiet again, it will remain. Not to say it will be without blemishes or cracks. But it will be exactly that. Still there.
Hard work pays off. I am seeing that.

Often I have found myself so incredibly afraid to try, because if I do I might fail….but worse. I might succeed.  

These are my struggles and they certainly are not easy but these days I’m making an effort. I’m taking the time to do things right. I’m not scared at looking deep within myself at my defects. Those things I don’t like about myself. Because when I can identify them, stare em down, I can begin to change.

It aint easy this learnin, growin and changing.
Fuck, theres plenty I’d rather be doing instead but TODAY I’m not. I’m getting dirty. Taking stock. Slowly but surely, each and everyday I’m seeing a change within myself and DAM it sure looks good.

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.”


Ive always said you gotta get back up.  Whether you trip, get knocked down whatever. Keep fightin for whats yours, youre worth it. Just keep gettin back up.

I need to remember how I feel on my good days.
When things are going smoothly
What makes my heart sing

So that I can come back
on those other days
The days when relief seems no where in sight
and nothing goes my way
when I feel feelings
and I hurt

I am grateful for a multitude of things
my friends, real life and online
People I can talk to, share with cry on

I am grateful for
a roof over my head and a warm shower
when ever I want
I don't ever go hungry 
and never have to worry if the water 
is dirty or not

I can wash my clothes 
and wear clean socks
I have amazing parents who
love and care for me
and only want me to be healthy and happy

Right now, at this moment
I am not lonely
or
scared
or tired
or sad

I'm blessed to have these things and more
I have more people in my corner
rooting for me more than ever before

My boy needs me like this
his mom strong and well
and I will be

Everyday wont always be like this
so when it's not
and Im feeling down
Remember without the bad
there is no experiencing the good
Nothing and no one is perfect and good
all the time

Remember to be 
the person 
I always knew I was
Today I am grateful
for it

Alright, so heres the deal. 
I've made it thus far. Tomorrow January 24th, I will have 6 months of continuous sobriety. It's kind of a big deal-to me at least. and yes I know, to you too. Three months of inpatient followed by 3 months of sober living and when I checked myself in it was only going to be for 28 days. 

28 days is no where near enough time to sort out 15 years of continual drug/alcohol abuse. For the last 6 years I thought I was 'just' a drug addict but I could imbibe because it wasn't my thing. I know, they all told me it was the same, but I didn't believe them. Yes, I thought I was different. Insert chuckle here. I needed to know for myself. Point taken.

For 6 long months my parents have been the sole care takers of my son. For that I am truly grateful and blessed. For almost every weekend they made the 2 hour drive so I could spend time with my son. Just him and his mom. It hasent been easy, and there were days my heart felt it was ripped in two but what I kept in the back of my mind was this. 

I was in fact missing a lot. He turned 5, lost his first tooth and a few other milestones these last 6 months. However, if I didn't get sober and sort out my life, I was going to be missing a hell of a lot more than that. That's the god honest truth. 

Everyday I go to meetings. Sometimes I get so mad that I'm going to have to go to AA meetings for the rest of my life but I look at it like a job. Some days/meetings are good and some are not so good but I HAVE to go. It's just something I do. I don't always buy into the AA stuff but I'm at a point where I know it's the only thing that's going to keep me sober. So I go. 

Tomorrow I'm going back home to begin to assimilate back into the real world. I'll be one town over from my son and my folks.  I will slowly get back into full time work and full time mom. I've got a good Sober crew I run with back where I'm going so that's a big plus. Yeah I'm a little insecure, I gained about 30 lbs in rehab but fuck it. I'm healthy. and happy. 

Not only is the 24th symbolic of my 6 months of being sober but of the start of a new beginning. Nothing has ever looked so sweet. 

Turns out I have really bad abandonment issues. I suppose it makes sense. My close friends are few and far between. I don't trust easily been hurt too much in the past. A lot of the time I dont bother exserting the energy needed to forge a solid relationship because in the back of my mind I'm terrified. Terrified Ill get close and then you'll disappear leaving me hurt and sad. I find myself holding back because I'm scared I'll say the wrong thing. Im sure you are not like the others but old habits die hard. If we dont get close I'll never get hurt or more importantly left behind.

David Nail 
Red Light



 

Finally


Continue doing the next right thing

good shit happens

Live life on lifes terms

and make the right choices

treat others kindly

Mind my own business

and worry bout myself

Value myself
Love myself
Respect myself

Everybody has options

you may not like em

or be the ones you want

but 

they are there
use them

Be good for yourself
for others
for everyone

Just keep
doing the next 
right 
thing

About my jam band day.  I'm listening to the Big Wu. I freaking love these guys. On my first attempt at college, Ive gone 5 times over the years, I became best-friends with this hippy kid named Clay. I think I was 22 and he was 19, anyway  Clay was from Minnesota and well if you don't already know thats where the Big Wu are from too. Actually, they came out to LA, where we were going to school at the time, and we got to rock out at tiny venues for a whole week listening to them. My friend and I still keep in touch-been 10 years now and he moved back to MN. I'd recomend you check em out if you like this kind of music. 

Oh yeah----Don't be shy, light it up and go ahead and twirl

 

This is really just for me but I'll let you look.

I don't really sing. I mean, I enjoy singing and I have a deep sexy voice so I should be able to sing but its not too pretty. When my son was born there was only one song I really knew start to finish that was suitable for a baby to fall asleep to.  I've sang it ever since he couldn't sleep sing to relax him from the teethin, the stuffy noses or to ward off monsters. Its all I know and it seems to always do the trick. He's now a lil bigger and requests it every night.  He calls the song, "Strands" but its real name is I'll Be by Edwin MCain. Enjoy it cause I don't sing nearly as good as he does. 

Oh man. My bestest buddy is leavin me. Nobodys fault or anything its just her time but it came as a surprise. I don't really do surprises well. We've been roommates for a while now. She knows all about my screwed up past, the funny, the fucked up, the shit you don't share with anyone because even though they say they don't judge you ...they do. But we don't. Not each other at least. Shes who I bounce ideas off of, who tells me how it is, tells me NOT to buy the ugly shirt and that its ok to feel the things I'm feeling.  That its normal. That I'm not weird. Shes leaving on tuesday. Change is inevitable...didn't say it was easy....but its bound to happen. It'll be ok.  It will be my time too, real soon, to go and fly. It's just harder to do it solo.

I want you to gaze deeply into my eyes

there are certain parts of me others have ceased to touch

or even discover 
or bother to look for

things that are secret even to me

but you
you have unearthed them

not with a shovel or a rusty spade

those tools would never do here

Instead your wispy woven words
Melodic and chosen
and arranged just so

gently brush away the sand and dirt
and uncover treasures that were always there
but hard to see

sometimes all that is needed
is to be taken by the hand
directed and lead
and told and pointed at

'look, can you see it? its right there--where it's always been' 

Ive always been a reader.  Devouring books by the piles and then I had my son and well reading got put on the back burner.  I've been meaning to start a book list from classics to fiction to whatever.  So I started one but it is no where near complete included are Books I like and have read at some point in my life.  




My book list
 
The invisible man  ---Ralf Ellison
1984----Orwell
Lord of the flies—W.  Golding
The Outsiders—SE Hinton
Catcher in the Rye----JD Salinger
Confederacy of Dunces---Toole
One Flew Over the Coocoos Nest—Kesey
Sometimes a great Notion----Kesey
On the Road----Kerouac
Naked Lunch—William S. Boughroughs
The Illistrated Man---Ray Bradbury
The haunting of Hill House—Shirley Jackson
 
Any Book written by John Irving
The World According to Garp
Ciderhouse Rules
A Prayer for Owen Meany
 
Brave New World ---Aldious Huxley
To Kill a Mocking Bird---Harper Lee
The Alcamist  ---Paulo Couelo
Richard the Third---Shakespeare
A Separate Peace ---John Knowles
Rabbit Run ---Updike
 
Where the Red Fern Grows ---Wilson Rawls
The Memory Keeper Daughter---Kim Edwards
Cutting for Stone---Abraham Verghese
A Million Little Pieces—James Frey
Beautiful Boy---David Sheff
Realm of the Hungry Ghost—Gabor Mate
The Green Mile---King
It----King
The Langoleers---King
Running With Scissors—Augusten Bouroghs
Dry---AB
This is How---AB
I Know this Much is True---Wally Lamb
Me Talk Pretty one Day---Sedaris
(anything by Sedaris really)
Lamb---Christopher Moore
Electric Koolaid Acid Test---Tom Wolfe

 

Kelly had always been a little bit shy and fearful of new things. Growing up in a small farm town outside of St Louis everyone seemed to know everyone one else and their business. She had dreamed of the day when she would turn 18, leave her tiny little po dunk town and venture off to some big city. Any city would do. Anything must be better than here she thought.  And when that day came she was more than ready to spread her wings and fly.
            She took off in her red 97 Mazda, packed to the gill with all her worldly possessions, which wasn’t very much. That first night Kelly drove a long and boring 7 hours North on I 84 and just when she thought her eyes couldn’t stay open a second longer she spied a motel and pulled in under the green neon sign. Feeling like such a grown up she paid for her single room and began to unpack and get ready for bed. As she neatly put away her folded panties and bras a sound carried by the wind seemed to have lazily floated under the door like billowing smoke.
 
‘I wonder where that’s coming from?’ she thought.
 
Once her things were put away she opened the door and stepped bare foot onto the cold cracked cement ground. Across the street hazy beer signs in dirty windows met her eyes. A few people were outside carrying on; smoking cigarettes sitting on the hoods of a trans am and pick up trucks. Intrigued she turned around, went back inside and moments later emerged in a pair of tight Levis, cowboy boots and an attitude to match.  Little Kelly seems to be all grown up and away she went sashaying her round tight 18-year-old ass.  As she made it to the entrance an older gentlemen hopped off his pick up truck and kindly opened the door for her.  When Kelly turned to thank the man her eyes fell upon a large scar mounted on the side of his cheek.  There was an awkward silence and Kelly quickly averted her eyes hoping the man didn’t notice her staring.
 
“Its quite alright Misses it IS pretty hard not to look at” and she raised her eyes back up to his face right into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Them eyes sparkled like the glass lake her daddy took her fishing in the wee hours of the morning.
 
“Thank you,” she replied and walked on into the smoky bar, ordered herself a drink and found a nice seat in the back by the pool tables to check out the scene. 



Her red lips curled around the tiny straw of a strong gin and tonic as she brought it to her mouth. The band had started setting up on the make shift stage and the sound of the jukebox could be heard in the background among the plucks and strums of the tuning of guitars. Right as Kelly was searching for that last sip she felt someone brush by her back and take a seat next to her. Swiveling around Kelly was again struck by those beautiful blue eyes.

Before either of them exchanged words Kelly took in the rough and weathered look of a man who could have been old enough to be her father. Brown scruffy hair with bits of grey covered his face, except for the scar that adorned his cheek. Crows feet splayed off of those pretty blues and something about his smile put her at ease. 

‘Well hello again, I see your drink is just about empty’
And before she could answer he replaced her empty rocks glass with a fresh one.
 
That voice of his was something else, deep, low and unbelievably sexy. For a moment she was unable to speak as if his speech was the melodic song of a pied piper. Unbeknownst to her his hook had been set.  This was just part of the game.  Formalities were exchanged and soon the two were leaning in, his hand on her knee trading stories of growing up in a small town.  Turns out he was almost old enough to be her father but somehow that made him all the more attractive. His confidence was breath taking and before she knew it they were leaving, arm in arm, laughing like old lovers.
 
‘I’m only going to kiss him’ Kelly thought. ‘and that’s it’

She promised herself no matter what she would not let him in to her room. Or so she thought. As they arrived at her door the conversation went quiet. His arms swooped around her neck as hers did the same around his belt. Gently and ever so lightly his lips met hers, over and over again. Little by little the tiny kisses turned into rhythms of passion.
 
The next thing Kelly knew the two of them slammed up against the door, his knee grinding into her now wet pussy. Almost instinctually her hips bucked back onto his jeans as his lips traveled up her neck, nipping her earlobe and settling against the hard folds of her ear.
 
‘I want to lift those legs up against my shoulders and fuck that tight little cunt of yours. And you’re going to let me aren’t you Babygirl?’ 
 

The following is an email I received from my Dad tonight. The man cracks me up! 



Hi- 

I am in San Francisco on business and it is too late to call you. I was going through my MasterCard statement and noticed a number of iTunes purchases. Not sure how it's happening since I would normally get an email confirming the purchase. I assume you haven't opened up your own account using my credit card or have you?


In any event please stop making purchases.


-V

Fridays school shooting has left me reeling as well as most folks around the country.  My heart truly hurts for those families and the town of Newtown CT. Maybe it's because I have a son around the same age as some of the victims, I'm a parent or that I live just an hour away. What ever it is I am deeply saddened by this senseless unspeakable act that took place to mostly children no less.  

This morning I woke up around 730 after a restless night of sleep.  Tossing and turning in my bed, thoughts running rampant with a mind of their own, delicately weaving together frightening and sinister dreams. Waking was a reprieve. Still sleepy eyed I rose out of bed, put on some sweats and a hoodie and wandered out to my car. Something was gnawing at me.  Pulling me. Telling me I needed to go there. 

Call me crazy, call me what ever you want but thats what happened. I didn't stop for coffee, or gas or snacks. My gps chirped away make a left here, turn right there keep going straight---straight to Newton CT. It only took a little under an hour to get there but that left enough time for me to get tangled up in my  thoughts. Twice I thought about turning around, once I actually did but that pull was stronger than I anticipated. 

With only 10 miles to go the drizzle rained down from the gray cloudy sky above. Fitting weather. I could feel my heart begin to race as I passed a sign for Newtown. You could feel it. The eerie difference while entering this quaint little town. Up ahead I spied a few cars at the side of the road, some police others not. I wasn't all the way there yet so I rubber necked as I drove by. Maybe it was an omen of things to come but a trooper was pullin on the collar of a dead family dog who had been hit and killed by a passing car. This is how it began. Both the trip and my tears.

I didn't know where I was going but that pull I was talking about, it did. Descending into the town, bumper to bumper cars in sued. People everywhere. I pulled over into a church and followed the masses. Most folks were dressed in black, while the media and reporters were kept at a distance. Tiny memorials enveloped the entrance to the church. I'm not really that religious, I was actually raised Jewish, but none the less I followed suit and sat down in one of the pews. St. Rose I believe the church was named and Catholic. Wasn't the first time being in a church for me but it was a first of a Catholic one. I stayed about 10 minutes and felt that darn pull again--tugging. 

I knew where it wanted me to go and I did. A mile down the road I entered into the town of SandyHook. I parked and followed the lines of people, walking along the closed road, men, women, children of all ages, nuns in their outfits with flowers in tow.  In silence I walked in the wet december day. Photographers clicked and snapped photo after photo of us, teary eyed and somber. To me this did not seem real. Then there it was.  The entrance sign to 'SandyHook elementary school'. Candles adorned the memorial sight, teddy bears and loveys, flowers and notes all together while we looked on. 

This here.  This REALLY happened. These children are dead, their teachers are dead and I'm sure those parents...well those parents are dead too, but in a different way. Tears began to roll down my face as I produced the two items I had brought to contribute. My sons batman snap bracelet, that I inscribed 'May the Lord protect and keep you--RIP 26' and the other my 90 day sobriety coin. I said a prayer, kissed my items and gently placed them next to a green stuffed teddy bear. I pulled the hood up over my head and walked back in silence with a tear streaked face and a snotty nose. 

The hour drive back home seemed to take forever but I pulled over and made a short phone call.
'Hey buddy it's Mom'
'Hi Mommy'
'I just needed to tell you that I love you, I love you more than anyone else in this whole entire world and I will never stop loving you'

and out of the simplistic mouth of a five year old he replied

'me too Mommy, me too"