Dopes Spring Eternal

"Dont give up, you have friends" --Peter Gabriel

Saturday night was my support meeting. I did enormous prepping (and primping) in the days leading up to it, but by Friday I was having doubts about my attendance. My wife and her sister made a trip to Cincy to clean up the duplex of their mother and late sister. She said that she knew my schedule and wanted me to go to my meeting. But I know her complete lack of a sense of time, and feared that she would run very late.

We've been leaving my 13-year-old daughter in charge at home with increasing frequency, but I really didn't want to have to lie to her about where I was going. The wife insisted that I go, so I just left my cell number with my daughter and said I'd be back later. My real fear was that I would return from my meeting before my wife got home. Vestiges of eyeliner would make a great name for a band, but it would an unfortunate source of questions if noticed by the wrong parties. As it happened, the wife got home just before me, and I got a chance to remove the last bits of makeup without an audience.

The meeting was a smashing success. Part of my diligence in preparing for the meeting was a result of deciding to wear my favorite dress. All the planets were in alignment. Eyebrows thinner than ever, smoothest legs yet (really getting the hang of it finally), only one big zit. Paint it black, call it a beauty mark. Without a shred of modesty, I grandly say that I've never looked better, so you know that I was feeling pretty good, too. Sad to say, there is no record of it, as my photographer did not make it. This leaves me with a dilemma, whether to wear the same thing some other time or just let it go. I don't want to look like I only have one dress! What's a girl to do? *sigh* Anyway, I had my social hat back on again, and had a grand time.

When I got home, the wife wanted to go to Starbuck's and talk about her very unpleasant day, which I won't go into. She never asked about my event, but then she didn't have anything critical to say about it either. No spews is good news. So, nothing was said to mitigate the good feelings I took away from my meeting. If this continues, I may well cut my therapy to every other week. Huzzah!

Oh, my brother came down at Christmas. I have emailed him many of my best blog entries to indoctrinate him into my world of Leslie. Things were just the way they've always been. Lots of talk about the Reds and Wildcats, plenty of random competitive wordplay, many inside jokes. We're still best friends. He, above all others, understands that I'm still the same person I've always been.