My thoughts on a quarter of a century

Yesterday was my 25^th anniversary in Narcotics Anonymous. It amazes me that I have managed to stay clean for a quarter of a century. I remember turning 25 at a drunken party where I felt good the next day because I had managed to control my drinking enough not to black out. But to stay clean for 25 years, that is a miracle and one which I thank God for on a daily basis

I shared on my birthday at a meeting at St. Luke’s, the treatment center I went through about 27 years ago. I gave a brief drug-a-log, because newcomers need to hear you used the way they did, and then decided I would share on some key things I have learned in my 25 years clean. Here they are.

The people you love may not always love you. Or, the way they can love you may not be the way you need to be loved. As painful as that is, turning it over and moving on is the best way. It takes time and courage, but admitting that you need more and moving on is the only solution that has worked for me.

Everyone is struggling with something. You may see people who you think “have it together.” Trust me, everyone, no matter how long they have been clean or how spiritual they are, struggles with something

My family often lets me down, but people in the Fellowship almost never do. I continue to be disappointed with family members. I continue to invite them into my life. They continue to refuse. People in the Fellowship are happy to accept almost any invitation I give. My friends in the Fellowship have become my family.

My God is always bigger. I have walked through very difficult things in recovery. The death of both parents, a painful divorce (which is almost an oxymoron), very public humiliations, an almost fatal illness and subsequent organ transplant, the death of animals I have loved more than most people, to name a few. In all these instances, and when I thought I could not go on either emotionally or physically, my God has always been bigger than the problem at hand.

When it hits the fan, and it will hit the fan, put on the blues and lean into the pain. There is no way around the pain, no shortcut, no detour, no avoidance. Just walk toward the pain to get past it. It will not kill you. It will feel like it will kill you, but it will not, I have learned. Beyond the pain there is a new freedom.

You can’t take it with you when you die. When a doctor told me I had no more than four months to live, I spent a lot of time thinking. I looked around my house at all the “stuff” I owned. I realized that at best, they were just things that someone would have to dispose of or donate when I died. None of the physical things I owned mattered one iota in the end

What really matters is friendship. To have friends, you have to be a friend. Whenever I have problems in my recovery, my NA friends are there for me unconditionally. That is because I am a friend to them. NA taught me how to be a friend.

These are just a few of my thoughts of my years in the Fellowship. A friend sent me a card and I think his words summed it up much better than I can.

“That you arrived was an act of Providence. That you stayed is a daily miracle. That you endure displays your courage. What you have accomplished makes you an inspiration.”

Those words can be said about almost anyone who stays clean in NA. We didn’t get here by accident and we don’t stay clean by accident, either. I thank God daily for the Grace that brought me to these rooms.

Why I Say "I Love You"

Recently my friends stayed the night, on their way to California for vacation. My friend is from the Czech Republic and is very emotional, to put it mildly. It all started with a simple game of Scrabble. Because I haven’t played in years and his girlfriend was very experienced, she and I decided we would just start playing and I would refresh myself on the rules as we went along, and we would teach him as we went. Boy, was that the wrong decision.

The lack of a dictionary was another major impediment. The first word he tried to spell was “eco.” We both said that was a prefix and he couldn’t use it. He argued quite loudly that it was most certainly not a prefix, after asking, “What is a prefix?” The second round went no smoother, and he took his tiles and dumped them, and quit.

While she and I played on, he continued to watch and read the rules and correct us loudly at about every move. She beat me soundly, by twice as many points. I am a type A and if I can make a two-letter word and move the game forward, that is my strategy, which, of course, is a strategy only for a sound arse-kicking.

We bedded out finally about midnight and went to sleep, their two German shepherds asleep with them in the great room, mine locked in my bedroom with me, since Oz was being a bit snotty to their male, Bernarde.

This morning the dogs barked when they got up. I think Romy forgot we had overnight guests. They went for a walk and I slept in. When I finally got up a few hours later, they were at the kitchen table playing, you guessed it, Scrabble! There was less argument because she was allowing him to do some phonetic spelling: “genre” was spelled “janre.” Really, that’s how it is pronounced!

As we ate oatmeal with brown sugar (his with three egg whites and one cooked yolk on top), I helped him lose his first game. As they were getting ready to leave, he noticed a wall plate I have, where the entire world, instead of continents, is renamed things like “the Ocean of Love,” “Sea of Deceit,” “River of Revenge,” and “Peninsula of Procrastination.”

“That is where I live,” he said, pointing to Procrastination.

“I would, but I never get around to it,” I responded. We all laughed.

They packed up the car and the dogs and drove off to California, first routing their trip for me on their atlas. A few minutes later, my phone rang. “We left the peaches,” he said. “They don’t look good, but they are delicious.”

“I’ll eat them,” I told him. And I said two more things.

“Be careful,” and “I love you,” because I never want to let friends leave anymore without that reminder. The world is an unpredictable place, and I want them to know how I feel, just in case. In that matter, I no longer procrastinate.

Updates

I cannot believe it's been two months since I posted. I have been heading up north to get out of the heat, although this weekend I stayed in town and am roasting. I forget every winter how hot the summers here actually are.

My friend is awaiting a liver transplant and I have been trying to help him get out of the house whenever possible, so last night we went to the speaker meeting and dance and later with another friend went to eat. The speaker got clean with me about the same time and her best friend, who died of brain cancer, was a good friend of mine, as well, so we have a lot in common. Also, we shared a sponsor for many years, although we have both moved on to new sponsors.

She was a crystal meth addict and pointed out that when she came into the program, NA was mostly junkies, which included me. Today I find when I share my story that unless old timers are in the audience, I am not sure that people can relate much to my using. So I try, unless it's a speaker meeting, to focus on recovery and the desperation of my feelings when I got here.

I am sharing the Sunday morning meeting at a big camp out in Colorado later this summer. I have to laugh, since the Sunday speaker is generally the "spiritual" speaker. I think maybe they have the wrong person (?). As I have blogged before, I still struggle with anger so much that I find it hard to call myself a spiritual person. But I keep chugging away.

Last week I started therapy for post-traumatic stress disorder, something I probably should have done years ago. A few months ago someone came to my house in the middle of the night and started ringing the doorbell then kicking the door. I called the cops and a helicopter was here in about three minutes then the police in about ten, but in the interim, even with 2dogs going crazy and me in the hall with a handgun, I was terrified.

For several days I was in "reactive" mode and was so devastated I finally figured out perhaps it is time to deal with the wreckage of my using. One of the original pains of my early using has been coming around lately to haunt. It's the image of the man I loved from 15 until my mid twenties who was twenty years older than me and willing to put me on front street to run his drug dealer business. What kind of men do these kinds of things?

Of course, once I made the decision I talked to my sponsor and immediately began berating myself for "waiting 24 years to do this." She calmly pointed out that to do anything at all at anytime in regards this was "brave" and to not beat myself up. That is the value of sponsorship. Sponsors help us see what we cannot see, often right in front of our faces. While I would have told a sponsling of mine the same thing, I couldn't remember to tell myself what she told me. Thank God for sponsorship.

I have also started a blog that will cover the social justice aspect of prostitution and the unsung victims who are either dead or trying to leave the life. I have been putting some energy into that and I am please with my efforts to far; however, more remains to be done and it is time consuming.

I did one other brave thing, or perhaps it was done to me. I am not going to write many of the insurance columns I've been writing and instead will focus on writing and keeping my copyright. It may mean money is funny for awhile, but I am tired of that rat race and dealing with corporations that are too slimy to be believed.

It is pretty simple today to self publish and this is the route I think I am going to pursue.

Until I blog again, I hope you have a great day. Hopefully at some point I can go public with this blog again, but not now.

Last night I drove up to north with a friend to my sponsor's to her husband's 25th birthday. She is a pet lover, and as I was walking around in her house, this CAT came out of the laundry room. What do you think? I couldn't resist adding her to one of my favorite sites, www.icanhazcheezburger.com.

The party was fun and it was good to see many of my friends I haven't seen in months since I've been so busy with school. Ciao for now.

Funny events

I was looking at a yahoo profile, okay, I admit it, sometimes I cruise the yahoo personals, and saw an icebreaker question that someone put on his profile. He asked people to, "Describe the funniest thing that has ever happened to you." That is such a loaded question, because some of the funniest things that have ever happened to me include things that others would see as a tragedy. Isn't it wonderful that we can go into the rooms on any given day and share a story that, at the time was traumatic or even horrifyingly stupid, and look back on it with humor?

I really cannot pick one event that is the funniest event in my life. It may be the time I encouraged my at-the-time boyfriend to burgle a Photomat booth with a large rock. Here is my hit on it--if he was stupid enough to listen to me, of all people, he deserved the broken ribs he got when the rock he heaved bounced off the safety glass and hit him in the chest.

Or perhaps it is one of my favorite former blog entries about the time my friend Roy o.d.'ed in a Mexican bathroom and I dragged him out by his boots and loaded him into the car to drive him back to Phoenix; then, after almost dying, insisted before we got to Green Valley that I stop the car so he could use again. Now that, folks, is funny.

I was at lunch with three females coworkers and for some reason I was in the mood to share about my teen years. They don't know I'm in recovery, but I am pretty open that I don't drink but used to in my "younger, wilder" days. I shared about why I left home at 15, how I moved to this house in Berkeley typical in the early 70s with one lesbian, a married couple one of which was a self-described warlock, one college student, the lesbian's lover (they often got drunk and smacked each other around), and me, who watched it all with 15-year old wide eyed wonder.

Anyhoo, I wrote a letter to my mother at that point in my life and told her the house we shared had so many roaches, they'd furnished us each with a roach clip. Now my poor mother didn't know a roach clip from a hash pipe, but someone eventually told her. My coworkers had a good laugh and that was the end of our lunch.

There are times I feel I live a double life still: I can't really talk much about my past among the people I spent most of my time with at work and in various professional organizations I belong to, and in fact, am afraid of having to explain certain details. I spent time with my sponsor yesterday going over that very issue. There are a few things I still need to have closure on and am working on that today.

But the funniest event in my life? Maybe it was my birth, because except for the years of my addiction, I've been laughing the whole time.

Until I blog again, may you be surrounded by light and love. I know I am.

NYC

I am in NYC in midtown Manhattan sitting in a hotel room instead of trucking about looking up and down and all around. I just ran the list of local meetings, so will shower up and head out any moment.
Two puppies remain, two wonderful sables and the litter picks according to Pat, who is the mom's owner and has forgotten more about dogs than I'll ever know. One shipped to Missouri yesterday. She is the black and tan cutie.

On May 7th I should receive my masters, but I don't think I'm actually going back to do the graduation ceremony. Not sure why except money and I'm tired of traveling. I got on the flight yesterday from Phoenix to Denver. No sooner had they shut the doors when the pilot came on and said we had a one-hour delay before we even would know when we would fly. I had the beginnings of an almost immediate panic attack, wishing desperately I could take Ativan before a flight. Things worked out because he agreed to let us off the plane if we insisted, but a few minutes later they cleared us. I hate being so powerless and still have a good bit of claustrophobia from the transplant post-issues, I think.

Well, it is 1 p.m in New York and I am going to get dressed and get out of the motel room and go exploring. I'll let you know how the deposition goes. I hate lawyers. I love the food in NY.

I also went to see West Side Story, which was wonderful.

Take care.

Leonard Cohen concert

Barbara and I went to see Leonard Cohen on the kick-off of his tour a few nights ago. It was the most amazing concert I have ever been to. I've never heard such a quiet audience; they just wanted to hear every word he sang.

He did almost every song in his amazing repertoire that is better know. I can't think of anything I wanted to hear he didn't play, and he played for about three hours. Barb and I were in tears during a few songs; it was so amazing.

Well, one more week of grad school and I am done, done, done. Wish me luck. One presentation left to do.

I do miss being public, but oh well.

I'm too sexy for my paws!

Back from Missouri

I flew back to Missouri this week to take my comps for my masters. I am exhausted. I'll post more puppy pics tomorrow.

They're here!

Black and Tan Female

Mom, Noriz

Sable Male

Compassion

Oz's dad, Bastin, taking a bite. Isn't he awesome?

<.>

Well, the puppies are five weeks old but no pics yet. There was a scorpion invasion so they had to be moved up north for a few weeks. Pics will be posted Monday for sure. Check back. They are awesome pups and the pics will be wonderful, I know. Ms. Babawa is taking them, so look for them.

I have been having a lot of anger lately, not sure why exactly. It is something I have struggled with my entire life. As I mentioned before, I believed that once I got that lovely little girl's liver and faced death, this would somehow change how I perceived and reacted to the world. Well it did--for awhile!

I also know that what was a survival technique when I used -- anger -- becomes a glaring defect of character in recovery.

I have been struggling with a coworker who has some real issues, complete with a lot of drama and chaos, often directed at me. Yesterday I'd about had enough so I went to a noon meeting at the nearby homeless shelter. I walked in the door and on the chalkboard there they had these two words, with some pages to read: Anger / Compassion.

It didn't hit me immediately, but later in the day I realized that while it is relatively easy for me to be compassionate to the still-suffering addicts I come in contact with, and to a lesser extend family members, in the workplace I have clear expectations about how people will behave and time and time again, people don't behave as "Two Dogs Sees It."

So last night I hit another meeting on my way home and heard what I needed to, as I usually do. That is that removing my defects of character comes in God's time not mine. (You know "I want patience and I want it NOW!) All I can do is ask and be ready.

So what do I need to do when I'm trying to rid myself of these troubling defects? Exactly the opposite, and to me, today, compassion is the opposite of anger.

Last night I went to a business meeting and ran into an old family friend. Yesterday would have been my mother's 86th birthday. We talked a lot about my parents since he worked with them and knew them both very well. It reminded me that this person I am wrestling with, and yes, it is about egos on both our parts, did not have the benefit of the parents and upbringing and love that I had. She is not in a program that can give her the tools of life management that I've been so freely given.

I read one of Marianne Williamson's books, I think it was A Return to Love. In it she states that the person who is more spiritually advanced is the one who is responsible for the tone of the relationship. Hm, ponder that one awhile.

So it's back to square one and looking at me and my behaviors. In the end, that's really about all we can do, isn't it? Oh yes, and pray.

Liberation

I was at first bummed that I had to go private on my blog since I have to remain so anonymous and after a few years of this, I am close to being linked with my real identity. So until I can clean up the blog, I have to be private.

However, it is also liberating because now I can say whatever the fuck I want and do not have to worry about what anyone thinks.

Also, some of my previous followers do not show emails on their blogs, so if you know someone who wants to view, they need to post a traceable e-mail (to their blog or website) and I will invite them, too. This is a bummer, but I've been living a double life so long I'm not sure I would know how to do this differently. Soon, I can go save the world and not worry about my past. (Isn't that a promise somewhere?)

Got milk?

more funny pictures

FINE

We all know what that stands for, right? I shall say no more. Tomorrow I am calling my sponsor. I am working too hard and not thinking very clearly.

My friend said today early in recovery he heard someone say, "We have no hope for a better past." I guess that means we should live in today.

In Narcotics Anonymous, the only promise is freedom from active addiction. I think sometimes we sold ourselves short by not cadging AA's promises, but I was apparently outvoted in that matter. Oh yeah, I wasn't here to vote.

As for the promises in my life, the one that I still haven't achieved is, "We shall not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it."

I went to three meetings today. What does that say?

Until I blog again, stay clean. It is the softer, easier way.

Ever felt like this?

No, we were the drunk friends, I almost forgot.

No news

None today; just an intense bunch of emotions.

Chow time!

Sorry the picture is so poor. More good ones will arrive as Ms. Barbara is going over Friday to puppy sit!

Faith

A friend of mine lost her job the other day. She has many years in recovery, and she is now, as she says, having to practice what she preaches. She said she told her sponslings over the years, "Don't write the end of the story before you know the end of the story." She is now having to follow that advice.

Too often when things get tough, I believe the worst. I catastrophize and imagine the worst. It is tempting, when I get into drama about the situation (which I think is a trifle inevitable in the big events like job loss) to only see a terrible outcome. It is hard to look beyond the crisis.

Acceptance is a process; it doesn't always come overnight. But if I don't write the end of the story, then I can surrender and let God write the ending. Inevitably, it is better than anything I could have imagined.

In these tough economic times, we are seeing many members deeply impacted financially. It is important that I remain calm and grateful and if tough times hit, I let God write the ending.

Until I blog again, take care.

Oz a proud papa

Oz is the proud father of five beautiful puppies. The pups, four sables and one black and tan, are bred from a wonderful German import-lines female, Norice. Pics to follow! Stay tuned.

Food--the Final Frontier

Well, almost.

My God sees around corners

I was in a meeting a few nights ago when a newcomer, struggling with staying clean on life's terms, said, "I don't know what's coming, but my God sees around corners." Isn't that the truth? And isn't it amazing that we often hear what we need to hear out of the mouth of newcomers?

Many times I've been terrified in recovery, and I am not ashamed to admit it because I believe faith and fear can coexist for a brief period of time. Many times, I am afraid if I am struggling with the problem. If I can get some perspective, however, I can accept the situation as it stands and stop struggling, knowing that God is bigger and "sees around corners." Then, the fear is released.

I heard a speaker last night with an unusual pitch. She has 27 years clean and is working on her doctorate. She has overcome great odds, the child of an addict who basically raised herself, with all the subsequent damage. She spent a few minutes listing her assets, which I think is a tremendous thing. When I got here and did my first fourth step, I was hard-pressed to come up with any assets. Today, I know what my assets are because some of my defects of character have become assets most of the time, at least.

Where I was stubborn, I am now persistent or even tenacious.
Where I was angry, I now have healthy boundaries.
Where I was egotistical, I now believe I have a healthy self-esteem.
Where I was impatient, well, I can't lie, I still am quite often.
Where I was street-smart, I am now able to analyze.
Where I was full of contempt, I am now compassionate.
Where I was sarcastic, I am now funny.

I am writing this because it has been a hard week, for a few reasons. The other day while unpacking I ran across a diary from 1983, when I was in the very bottom of my addiction, spinning out of control. It was frightening and it did two things: It scared me, knowing I could go back to that if I forget where I came from, and it gave me great gratitude for having been able to stick with the program for almost a quarter of a century now.

If you spent Valentine's Day alone and no one said "I love you," I do. Where I was full of hatred, today, I am full of love. The Fellowship gave me that.

Now here's a no brainer

Excuse the pun, but duh. Ritalin addictive; who woulda' thunk it?

Sponsorship

I know, isn't this just too cute? Not much happening here. It is raining, which in Arizona is almost always good news. It is so dry that we welcome any rain. Where I live now most plants are desert dwelling and require very little water, but plants seem to thrive after a rain.

At work last week almost 20 percent of my coworkers were laid off. It was very tense and stressful to watch people, some who had worked there for almost 30 years, carry out their boxes. They received no severance, no notice, nothing but a cart to take their boxes to their car. It is frightening and although the division where I work is unscathed in this round, there is more to come.

I talked to one of the women who was cut after many years, and she brushed away my concern. "God is good," she said. "And bigger," I added. She believes God has something better in store for her and I know she is right. Everything that has happened to me in recovery that I classified as "bad" at the time has ultimately worked out for the better.

In my life, I have walked through many things clean, but never financial problems in the nation of this magnitude. It is hard not to be concerned when I watch the news and surf some of the financial sites I read as part of my work. It is scary, but I remind myself: "God is bigger."

Here is what I do when I feel bad, as I did Thursday night. I get off the couch or shut down the computer and go to a meeting. It has worked for me for 24 years and it keeps working.

I have been here a little over a year now and I am happy in the Southwest. Mild feelings of panic start sometimes over the economy and feeling tied down here because I do own a house that, in this market, would probably not sell quickly. But I know that God has a plan and for now, it is for me to be here, at home, in Arizona.

I only have to step onto my patio in this beautiful rain to know: God hasn't brought me this far to drop me on my head.

If you are struggling, struggle on. It is definitely worth the price.

Unpacking

I wish I had a digital camera, because unpacking is like opening Christmas presents. Many of my boxes I haven't opened since before my liver transplant, which was over three years ago. So I had forgotten how many beautiful tsotchkes and things I own. Just a few of the things I have unpacked today include:

• A beautiful blue jeweled vintage purse, which I will hang in my bedroom and I had completely forgotten that I had.
• A beautiful blue and creme chenille drape that will grace my bedroom window.
  
• Yards and yards of vintage material, too beautiful to describe and ripe for craft projects I hope to start once I settle in and slow down.
• Three boxes of shoes that I completely forgot I still owned, and which Romy will, no doubt, immediately claim as her new chew toys when I forget to latch the now latching bedroom door.

I give you this list to remind myself of a few things. First, that I spent myself into deep financial doo $20 at a time, in many respects. Today I think twice about spending money on anything that isn't necessary.

I also remember how clearly I saw my possessions as I sat in my recliner, dying, waiting for an improbable transplant that I completely had turned over to my God. As I viewed my beautiful paintings and Hull pottery and Frankoma dishes, I realized that you truly can't take it with you. They were just things and in the end, unimportant. Cliches are cliches because they are true<.><.>

Today I try to focus on appreciating what I do have, including the miracle of my life and recovery and transplant. I am listening to Paul Simon and I am deeply grateful.

At home in my new home

Two dogs and I have packed in and are officially moved. Both dogs got sick and promptly christened the new hardwoods with barf, but what can one say? A dog has to do what a dog has to do, right? My friends have helped tremendously in the move, including Ms. Barbara and a friend from work, who helped me move a lot of boxes so the movers didn't have to spend too long at the house. As I told one coworker, I feel like it's twelve pounds of crap in an eight-pound sack; however, little by little I am unpacking and getting settled.

Barbara helped with the computer today and I lost my backup Quicken file temporarily, with all of last year's tax records on them. Yikes! So I went to a meeting. That was where I needed to be and where I heard the message "surrender to win." That was what I needed to hear, today especially.

This week will be a busy week. Tomorrow I have to prepare for a class I start teaching on Wednesday and then much writing remains to be done. Tuesday is the inauguration. I am going to find a small TV somewhere to take to work to watch our new President sworn in. This is a momentous day in American history and I, for one, want to watch as much as I can. And pray a lot, because he is inheriting one heck of a mess.

Once I get settled I'll try to take some pics so you can see the new hole Oz dug in the yard today when the sprinklers came on. I thought he's lost his mind. My friend brought over sulpha for the dogs, so hopefully by tomorrow, they'll be back to normal, whatever that is for them.

Until I blog again, take care.

Chaos

Moving bites. Waaa.

In the midst of packing ...

I am surrounded by boxes and feeling a little overwhelmed, but a friend will arrive in an hour or so to help. I went to northern Arizona yesterday to check on my house. The weather has been cold there so I wanted to make sure the pipes didn't freeze. I also had an electrician in to put in two new wall heaters. If anyone tells you to buy a pellet stove, consider it very carefully. It may be cheap, but it's impossible to keep the heat on when you're not there for extended periods. You live and learn, usually the hard way, right? I do, anyhoo.

I met my electrician at a meeting I used to attend. Turned out he was an old junkie from Phoenix and we knew some people in common. Yesterday as we talked, we think we know more people, as well. He is an example of someone who is doing the deal--happily married, well-employed, raising three kids in a blended family with all its insanity. I am glad we are friends.

On the way home I went to a meeting and talked to my sponsor briefly and updated her on my life. I have a fourth step sitting somewhere (I can't find it at the moment) and we'll catch up next month when life is less hectic. It is amazing that today, despite what is going on in my life, I don't have to have any drama surrounding it. That is spiritual growth in its simplest form. Because believe me, there is a lot going on both personally and at work.

I am just checking in with my blogger buddies. Have a great day!

A new place to live

The moving boxes are out again, and 2dogs sit in the living room asking each other, "How far is it this time?" Relax, I tell them, it is only one mile. I am moving a mile from where we are now. The pics show you why. It is a great neighborhood that dead ends into desert preserve where Oz can hike and Romy can explore. (Her hiking days seem behind her now.)

These are some of the benefits of recovery. Today, people want me as a neighbor and I have good credit. I have been back in Arizona for a year and am comfortable in this neighborhood, so I am moving close by.

I am a little sad and overwhelmed today. I am trying to work through some of my own issues and have started the new year out by examining my own issues with food and how I manage my money. My friend in Hawaii sent me a beautiful journal and I am recording what I spend and what I eat. I have more peace in my life when these other areas are in balance, as well.

Tonight I will go to my home group at 5:30 then tomorrow a woman asked me to share at a meeting in the East Valley. Around birthday time, I seem to get a lot of invites to speak and that is great. However, I'm learning that maybe the issues I am still working through are my issues and not for sharing at the group level. I always say that NA is where I can tell my truth. So today I am pondering, baffled, a little confused, I guess, but I am always grateful for another day clean.<.>

Today I spoke at length with a woman I still sponsor in Missouri and love very much. She is going through some painful stuff and putting one foot in front of the other. In fact, she ended up, as she always does, by encouraging me.<.>

Well, I have boxes to pack, so 2dogs and I wish you a fine day and a happy New Year. I just wanted to share my good news. Please do me a favor and say a prayer that I sell my car, because I'm not getting many calls on it and that would help tremendously. Prayer is powerful!

Happy New Year

Thanks for helping me stay clean another year.

Here's to 2009, whatever it may hold.