what does it even mean to be sober

i'm awful. i caved. but i wanted one. maybe i really should make use of the resources recommended to me by the midwife who conducted my annual pap a week and a half ago...

the land before time

backpacking. stewart island, new zealand. 12/28/09.

omgz

brushfire bbq on glenn & campbell = amazing! so delish. how have i not discovered this place sooner?! mikey had a pulled pork sammy and i had baby back ribs. meat falling off the bone slathered in sweet but bold sauce with sides of creamy slaw and grilled garlic bread. super casual, too--you just walk up to the counter and order. exactly what i needed to be re-introduced to food again. my body was craving meat after being ill all week and hardly eating. mmm i do love me some classic southwestern bbq.

in my head

ruminating. living in reverie, all my waking hours. i think about it now and well, i have always been like this, at least since the accident. when will i ever not be ruminating? dwelling? obsessing? constantly rehashing, replaying, wondering, twisting, revisiting, recreating? it's the writer in me, i keep saying. the writer in me, constantly daydreaming, living in reverie, never settled, always deep in thought--about school, lost friends, ex-lovers, sexualities...the list does not end. it wears and tears and i am starting to wonder if i will ever be able to live differently. what is it like not to ruminate? i don't think i know.

drunk on life.

here goes it. i am giving up the booze. day #2 of sobriety. i am sure this sounds terrible, but to be perfectly honest, i have been drinking heavily ever since i graduated last may. yes, it's been potentially self-medicating. but it's also fucked up my health emotionally, and physically. always tired, down n' out, eating terribly, not working out, and spending way too much money on it. why is beer my drink of choice? so many calories, and it was only a matter of time til I thought 4 beers would hardly do the trick..

java

warm cup of coffee so delicious against my lips makes me close my eyes and go mmm

12pack

i see the football game's score
on the tv in the liquor store,
it makes me think of you.

then i scoff across the
gritty linoleum floor.

late november in wisconsin and
the ground so cold so hard, the wet dirt sticks
like it's frozen solid. the tile like sandpaper
beneath my boots.

piss-yellow fluorescent lights fixed in the ceiling,
buzzing and moaning,
with dead horse flies
like polka dots caught in the humming and the droning.
my ears twitched
the lights flicked

and

as my eyes make a decision
the variety 12pack gives me tunnel vision
with christmas colors like evergreen
and brick red.
then i wonder when i'll see your cute face again.