"There's nothing that's been done that can't be undone."

Something I emitted from my 31 is Rockin'! list is that I want to not drink so much. I mean, that's very Bridget Jones, it's very au current for the heavy drinking crowd I roll with, both electively and biologically. Less booze, less cigarettes, start working out. On the other hand, it's hard to be cavalier with the family awash in beer and weed, plus factoring in my general propensity to assume I am doing something terrible all the time: it's a mess. That is why I pay someone to help me think. That is why I am making a plan, and if I can't stick to the plan, well then: I've learned something about me and my drinking.

Of course, the other reason for blogging about this is to sort of put it out there as an antidote to the shame and secrecy that I have witnessed of addicts...the sticky black tar of hiding, and second guessing, and hating yourself so deeply that it becomes a part of how you react to everyone. I will just nip that in the bud with my frank discussion of how, in the last few months, I'm drunk more, and more drunk, and missing time to blackouts, and not sure of what I've done and said. See? So send me good thoughts, and faith, and forgive the self disclosure.

If push comes to shove, if I am, indeed, an Alcoholic, thankfully I am made for AA. Honestly. You know how "Infinite Jest" was excruciating sometimes? Mostly that whole Quebecois story line; the thing that got me through, the story I still think about, was that of Don Gately and Alcoholics Anonymous. "Jesus' Son"--that's a book. And I thought "A Million Little Pieces" was crap way before the scam was revealed--I have no patience for the Guy Who Can Go It Alone. I mean, fine, whatever. Do what you want. Me, I love a group of strangers gathering together to discuss their personal failures and spiritual thirst. Hopefully I love that more than beer. We shall see. Wish me luck!

"And then we'll get real Irish"

I have to make so very much casseroles today and tomorrow. The weather is *awful* and may have been engineered by Glade Scented Candles, because I have a heretofore unexperienced urge to buy a bunch of candles that smell like pies and allspice, close all the curtains, and bath in warm, inevitably cancerous, olfactory bliss.

Imagine the cans of creamed substances that will be consumed this weekend. Tubs of Country Crock will pass hand to hand; and this year, an actual turkey! Little Sister has brought her fancy LA Ways back to the Midwest and is providing poultry whereas I prefer $6 tubs of 'turkeyish substance.' My favorite part was looking at the "light and dark meat" roll and it was like a big meaty black and white cookie. Ew, barf.

Turkeyish is not like Turkish, and Turkish is a bit like Armenian, and they called this morning! Arpeek and the girls called to wish me a happy birthday, to which I replied "Miss you I do love and thinking often!" I was 24 when I met them...isn't that insane? That is 7 years of being asked if I'm married yet! Oh, they are the greatest. I am thankful that I can blow off the people I love dearly and they still tramp from their village to a freezing phone hut in order to spend their subsistence farming money to call me, St. Renegade. This is the other reason to remember that we do not earn or deserve the love we receive; because there is an anti-theological accountant residing in my psyche that says I could never pay all this goodness back. Plus, what did Lorrie Moore write? You don't give back to the people that gave to you, usually.

And so I say to you, "Schnorhakalutzoun!" I drink a toast for your happiness, health, a green path in a long life, a tub of Country Crock, a game of mafia, a house full of synthetic candle smells and loved ones.

St. Renegade, LCSW

"And my thirties shall continue to kick ass"

Things that could happen:

1. Maybe I learn this interweb dohicky thing better, for the Choir and for the Scissor Museum and for greater access to "erotica." Ew, gross.

2. Hotter and hotter until I rival the sun!

3. Another tattoo. Right now I'm on a break from Yet Another trauma training, and I was thinking about how I am burning neurological pathways that associate pain with control and beauty. Which is a different pathway and makes my brain wired better-like.

I also learned that ladies hanging out with lady friends was found to release oxytocin, which counters stress and means that you are less likely to develop physical impairments as you age while being more likely to lead a joyful life.

So getting a tattoo with your good lady friend while other friends stop by means that I am going to live...

forever.

4. Sweet job.

5. Living in love, people.

It's a struggle, right? Because there's all that Oprahspeak out there about Visualize the Prize and making Collages of Acquisition and whatnot; but I think I'm supposed to keep it on point and vague, because who I am to say what should happen? Maybe these things happen or maybe I get hit by a car or develop a love of accounting.

Testing, testing, 1-2-3!

I haven't learned the internet. I've been studying for a big test tomorrow. Most of what I have to learn is not horrible, no, just a lot of words I will not actually be using in my work. At least I certainly haven't heard or used them in four years of not-super-terrible mental health treatment. Isolation of affect and dysphoria and all these damned ego functions. Snooze.

Most fun terms: hot and cold empathy. Hot empathy is emotional empathy, you know, feeling the feelings; cold empathy is a cognitive understanding of their situation. Sort of. There's more than that. Words fail, you know? A hot empathizer is also a hot chick who, you know, gets it.

"You can play those songs on your synthesizer and I can feel your pain cuz I'm a hot empathizer."

And here's the plan: get license, get licensed, turn 31. It is a big week for a little Saint. And speaking of saints! Let's ask the Wikipedia about one for test taking!

Saint Joseph of Cupertino was said to have been remarkably unclever, but prone to miraculous levitation and intense ecstasies that left him gaping. In turn, he is recognized as the patron saint of air travelers, aviators, people with a mental handicap, and bad students. He was canonized in 1767.

"O St. Joseph of Cupertino, who by your prayer obtained from God to be asked at your examination, the only preposition you knew. Grant that I may like you succeed in the Clinical Social Work Licensure examination. In return I promise to make you known and cause you to be invoked. O St. Joseph of Cupertino pray for me, O Holy Ghost enlighten me, Our Lady of Good Studies pray for me, Sacred Head of Jesus, Seat of divine wisdom, enlighten me. "