Piece of Pie

Thanksgiving was really rather seamless without booze.  So again, I'll reiterate, I'm pretty sure I don't have a drinking problem.  Good for reason 1) I'll never have to face all the "anonymous" people I know at "anonymous" meetings, 2) I'm losing weight.  I think. I haven't actually weighed myself.  My point: no drinking problem= chance at being skinny (I really don't want to look like Tori Spelling).

Since Thanksgiving was so easy, I'm really wondering how the Christmas season is going to go.  Like The Christmas Party.  A Sabres' game.  Where beer and hotdogs and nachos never tasted so good.  Or The Christmas Party.  Where you can get any drink you want and more.  But let's think silver linings.  Maybe if I get caught on the Jumbotron at the hockey game it'll be my hips instead of my gut will be sticking out for all of the arena to see.  And there always needs to be a DD.  New responsibility!  I wonder what it'd be like....

And as far as The Christmas Party goes- maybe I can now just pull off a bolero jacket and a 3 carat diamond ring.  Less calories, more money, what'd ya say, Mr Incredible?  The sheer glamour of ME will take all the attention that a bottomless glass of amaretto sours would take.  And there always needs to be a DD.  Which is the realistic side of this.

I'm like Tori Spelling, Cept Fatter and Less Alcohol

This blog took off like a fish with no fins.  Rest assured!  I've not had a sip of anything.  On the contrary, it's made me sick to think of any sort of beverage.  Positively sick!  That's only because, however, I was sick.  So I guess I'm at Me: 4 Alcohol:0.  T-86 days.  If I had it my way it would be T-12 days.  But that's how the cookie crumbles, or the beer spill, or the martini down the front of your dress.

I'm classifying myself as an Alcohol Anorexic.  Anorexic, no.  That's so junior year of high school.  Alcohol Anorexic, yes.  For many a reason.  First reason is that there is still beer and Mike's Hard Lemonade in my fridge.  And Three Olives in my cupboard, for what it matters.  If I were to PURGE of these things to promote my "good habits,"  I would most certainly've been an Alcoholic Bulimic.  But it surrounds me always (on a side note, Mr Incredible two days into this dumbfoundedly asked me why I wouldn't have a beer with him.  That's when I was sure this was a) a nightmare b) my version of hell.  or at least purgatory) and I just say no.  Like Tori Spelling with dessert.  Or dinner or lunch.

Second reason, I'm bound to lose weight by doing this.  Again, for many a reason.  First of all, I wouldn't be surprised if I had 400 calories a night (or every night I drank, anyway) from beer.  Secondly, let's consider the foooood the cheeeeese the chocolatttte the pizzzzzza.  I really don't have much of an appetite for that stuff unless beer past present or future is involved.  But that could be the flu talking.

Third reason:  I'm am in control like an anorexic.  I avoid drinking by mere distraction!  Like cleaning!  taking a shower!  organizing!  going for a walk!  reading a magazine!  or AA!
No that's not entirely true, not true at all, actually, but I said I have many a reason.  So I needed more than two.

This wasn't a dream or a drunken stupor

Alcohol: 0
Me: 1

This is war, baby.

He knows exactly what I'm talking about

Last night I fell asleep while nursing the baby right around 8 o'clock.  I vaguely remember my husband coming in the room asking if I wanted to watch the Mentalist and I'm pretty sure I was abhorred that he would have the nerve to wake me up for a tv show, let alone to brush my teeth.  In short- I don't do well when I'm overtired.  Not in the least.  I make no sense and things are magnified by 14,000.

When I woke up at 3am not able to get back to sleep, I thought to myself, "mmm I'm so thirsty the last Mike's Hard Lemonade sounds delish."  But I also thought, "wait, I've been labeled with a drinking problem... and I started a blog about it!?!?!?!?  Was I.... DRUNK?"  So just to make sure, I www-ed hellodietcoke.blogspot, and to my horror I found it.  Being overtired is the bane of me.

I'm proud to announce, friends, that I prevailed.  Nothing presents a challenge to me better than being labeled.  ("labeled" is another relative term.  It's a bit harsh of a word for this situation.)  I thrive on being labeled.  Which maybe means I'm contrary, I don't know.  But I did it.  I drank apple juice instead.  Then brushed my teeth and got into pajamas, fyi.

A little background.  I don't have an alcoholic drink every day.  So really, this wasn't a huge feat for me.  Also, I'm not shaking today.  Does that mean my red flags are coming down?  I thought so, until my two year old came in this morning at 10am asking if I had a beer.  I gently gave her the benefit of the doubt and replied, "no, baby, I don't have a pear."  "no BEER!"  OKAY people, I get it.  T minus 89 days.

Hi My Name is Kiera. (hi, kiera)

November 19th.  There is much significance in this day.  Today is the day that I'm starting my three month challenge of sobriety.  "Alcoholism," "Drinking Problems," and "Sobriety" are all very relative terms.  For instance, I don't drink alone.  Of course, "alone" is relative, too.

Dr, let's call him, today suggested (mere suggestion) and questioned, "what would happen if you went three months without drinking, starting today?  Now until February 19?  What would you say on 02/19?"  I replied something (okay, no, verbatim) "bottoms up!"  and/or "I'm skinny!"  Wrong answer.  What I was supposed to say is, "oh boy I feel good because I haven't a drink in 3 months" or "Oh boy I can't wait to pour myself a tall one."  All which conclude to ---------> drinking problem.

So here we are the morning after last night where a social drink with a friend turned into a frat party.  For me only though, because she had a modest Mike Hard Lemonade and I had um more.  And my husband's simple wind down Oktoberfest (because it's last call for Oktoberfest, people.  Get 'em while they last.) for him turned into me cheering his bottle thrice over.

So let's give a little background.  Because anyone can be an "alcoholic" and anyone can have a "drinking problem."  (Remember quotes equal relativity.)  I'm 24 and have three kids 4 and under.  I stay at home.  I know!  Is there anything more cliche?  Which means I'm a.... desperate housewife?

I'd rather blog about these 3 months than go to AA 1) because I'm not an alcoholic (blah blah blah I know step one is admitting.) 2) I'd be anything other than anonymous.  ie I wouldn't want to see my ex boyfriend and uncle.  And friend.  And friend of a friend.  and Mom's friend, too.  (Birds of a feather flock together which means.....)  3) This is just three months, people.  This isn't going to be my whole life.

I think I'll finish this Day One post up and head over to my bookcase.  Over the summer I snagged the book "Alcoholics Anonymous" (Hi, Bill) at a garage sale because it's one of those just-in-case books.  Foreshadowing?  Perhaps.  Or maybe it's just like my Dave Ramsy book, Bible, Dr Sears, Joy of Cooking and Great Expectations.  The basics.  The staples.  ahem.

the kiss of death.

So who's with me?  Who'll be sober for the next three months?

*crickets*

A little moral support never hurt, anyway.