A Quitter Just May Win...

Those are my "Happy New Year!"
fireworks, in case you're not quite
sure about what's going on over there.

In some sort of bizzare twist of thought, I'm feeling reflective in regards to the next year -like I've already lived it. Perhaps I can take this to mean that I've a leg up on everyone else? That my psychic abilities have been honed to the point where I will be able to flawlessly identify a terrible idea and make much better decisions for myself.

On that note, I quit drinking on Christmas. Well, that was the last day. I had been talking about slowing down/stopping after the holidays -"As your New Year's Resolution?" you may ask, but that just sounds too tacky for me (but, really, yes... that's what it comes down to).

I woke up on the 26th and, while not my worse hangover ever, I was not pleased with myself. I decided then that there is absolutely no reason to dely the inevitable, unless I was trying to fool myself all along. I rolled over and told Brandy that I was done drinking. She carressed my jawline and gave me a kiss. "Me, too, love. I think that's a wonderful idea."

So, the Missus and I will be spending New Year's with her nephew, watching movies and having a pizza party.

I know that it's a bit premature to post on the success rate of this plan, but I gotta say that I am feeling much better already. My wallet is not crying out in pain, my liver has decided that maybe it doesn't need to burst from my body and call protective services after all, and I've been eating *much* better -tofu/veggie stir-fry with bean thread noodles last night, made a big pot of 15-bean soup on Sunday... when it probably would have been something quick like pizza or pubfare from whatever bar we were at.

Plus, the amount of money that I'm going to save will get me to Europe much sooner than if I was still being a lush.

Plus -it really is time to grow up.

Ah, the life!

As I surveyed my new place this morning, sipping my coffee and watching Angus run around outside untethered, I realized that there is absolutely no better place to be. Not only am I content, I am absolutely blissed out.

Being single was something that I had forgotten how much I enjoyed. After bouncing from relationship to relationship, I was more than a little leery about all of the "me" time. There really hasn't been much of it, when I really think about it, but when I am alone with nothing to do, my head is a good place to be.

School, work, Angus, my (incredibly awesome and sweet and funny) landlady, her dog, my friends, and settling in all leave not much room for boredom. Plus I've got a new buddy.

Would you like to know about her?

Well, I'll have to backtrack for a moment to really give you the whole story...

I attended a marvelous get together in October that some of you may know -Women's Week in Ptown. While I was enjoying a lovely state of alcohol-induced happiness and waiting for the (now) ex to finish using the facilities, I overheard a group of newcomers giggling that someone "had to be the lookout." Being the incredibly shy person that I am, I immediately volunteered my services -having no idea what they were up to. Turns out they had some nips that needed to be swallowed -of course, after my lookout duties were complete I had to offer my esophagus and gullet as well. Ex comes out of the bathroom, looks at me skeptically (yeah, she was a barrel of freaking fun), and I introduce her to my new found friends.

We ended up heading to the bar with the girls and found out more about them. Two of them are married, and the other couple is engaged. Well, how amazing is this? I'm ordained! It is decided that the best place to meet the person who will officiate at your gay wedding is the bar.

So, through the breakup with the ex I continue to chat with the girls online and on the phone. The night that I moved out of the ex's place, I imbibed (of course) and got very chatty by text and bemoaned the whole being-alone-on-my-birthday thing. What's that, Dizzabeth? Oh, hmm... just so happens we have a friend...

So. I've been talking to this friend of theirs since then. Text, email, phone, etc. A was a bit worried at first about the age thing (I'm seven years older), but as I'm getting to know her, I am impressed, and have to mention a bit intrigued. We haven't yet met, but this Saturday is the plan...

Did I mention that she's incredibly cute? Well, I wouldn't want you to miss out on that: she is *incredibly* cute.

I really have to remember how much I'm enjoying being single... I really have to remember...

What was it that I was supposed to remember?

Allow myself to introduce... myself...

When my Dad looked at me with a surprised “Oh,” I knew I was in for a treat. I had just explained the sleeping arrangements to him in my then-empty one-bedroom house. He was helping me move and was naturally curious as to where my “roommate” was going to sleep.

“Right here,” I replied with a smile, gesturing to where the left side of the bed would be.
“What about you?”
“Right here,” the grin getting wider, this time motioning to the right side.

This is where the “Oh” comes into play. Surprised, yet knowing. Shocked –but barely.

After all, he had seen some pictures a few years before that he could have passed off as "experimenting."

(For the record, I wasn't.)

Anyhow, my "coming out" to my family was pretty anti-climactic. That was it for my Dad, who in his seventh-generation Vermonter type of way took it in stride and then proceeded to pepper me with questions. Once satisfied that it was the real deal -that I was in love with a woman, he relaxed into his typical completely-inappropriate self:

"Well, I guess if you two are ever broke, you could always make a movie."

That's my Dad.

Mom is a little different, and surprisingly so. She is the liberal of the two (Dad is a gun-wielding Republican) -has her Master's and is an educator, votes Dem every time, likes gardening and is generally very easy to talk to.

All except for this. Neither of us bring it up often -if at all. It slightly annoys and sometimes embarrasses me that the woman who I thought would take it in stride and make it a non-issue is the one whom I feel most guarded around. Who knows?

Maybe if I had mentioned it to her in a better way, we could have had a heart-to-heart. As it happens, she found out from my older brother who called her to ask how I should tell Dad that I was with a chick... (An insanely wonderful one at that, but we'll get to that at a later date.) For the record, he did *not* have my permission to do this task for me -and I never really planned on "coming out." I figured that my family is smart and would realize that she wasn't my roommate when, well, whenever they saw the way that I drooled around her.

Anyhow -those are the bare bones.