The holidays can be a time of doom for some people.  For me, it used to be real difficult around the holidays to stay sober.  When I first quit drinking back in 2002, I had just turned 21.  Good timing on my part, as I had finally reached the legal drinking age, and no longer needed my fake i.d.  I’ll never forget the look on the bouncers face at one of my favorite local bars back home in Eureka.  The Mrytle Wood Lounge was a place we all used to love to hang out at.  Once I turned 21, I came in with my “real i.d.” thinking the bouncer would find it funny.  Yeahhhhhhhhhhh, not so much.

Anyhow, once I hit the legal drinking age, I realized that I might have a problem, and checked myself into 28-day spin dry.  Over the next 10 years, it took some on-again, off-again experimenting to finally figure out that I could never successfully drink again, let alone do anything else that may be habit forming.  Well, of course, except workout!  I’d go into more detail, but I don’t want to spoil my autobiography for you!

During the holidays, I’d always find it more so than not, difficult to turn down the parties.  The other night, I went to my girlfriends “Christmas eve, eve BBQ”.  It was an ‘adults’ only party, and a BYOB.  Now, my friends out here have never seen me drink, let alone take any other mind-altering substances.  Had they ever seen the way I react once loaded, I can guarantee they would never put it past me again.  When a friend of a friend waived a beer in my face, and I said, “nah girl, I don’t drink.. trust me- think of it as a public safety announcement.”.  “I’m really just one big giant cunt when I drink.  I try and fight everyone.  Even an 80-year old lady walking down the street with a walker, I’d yell at: “what you lookin at bitch?!?!, I’ll beat your ass with your own fukin walker ya old bag!”, I continued on.  The chic was like, “OMG, no way!!!!”.  I used to feel very sorry for myself that I couldn’t drink like the rest of my friends.  I was no longer able to act the role of the ‘crazy wild entertainer’… I used to feel like I could dance better, play pool better, be more adventurous, when I drank.  It really took me years, before I learned that getting drunk is such a false reality.  It’s not who I am. Even though I do like the taste of most alcohol, let’s face it: I’m not drinking all those extra, pointless calories for the taste.  HELL NO BITCHES!  I’m gettin LOADED!  I couldn’t have just one.  I wouldn’t stop until the wheels fell off.  No, NO!  Screw that, there was NOTHING left on my car after I got started…. the wheels, the axle… hell, even the steering wheel fell off.

I used to get really angry when people would say to me, “what do you mean you can’t just ‘have one’?”, “what if I promise to watch out for you, and make sure you don’t get out of control?”……. I wanted to slap the person and shake them really hard.  “Don’t you get it moron?  I can’t EVER drink again!!!!”.  Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic.  It’s not something that you’re ever cured from.  Sure, drinking is but a symptom of the disease…. the real problem behind any alcoholic lies much deeper than the inability to control their drinking… however, even once that is addressed, and personal growth has taken place, the person can’t successfully go back out and drink like a normal person.  Once I accepted life on life’s terms, and became more aware of who I am, and what my purpose is, I became more comfortable not drinking.

I had an argument with a friend a couple months ago.  I was determined to teach this friend that “not being able to say no, and control your drinking, is just a lack of willpower… it’s a weak-minded person”.  Those were his exact words.  I could feel my blood start to boil as I sat in the passenger seat of his brand new X6.  “So you’re telling me, that you think I’m a weak-minded person?”, … “well, yeah… I guess”, he replied.  “you are really ignorant mate.  you have no fuking clue what you are talking about right now”.  It was then I caught myself, and realized, some people just don’t get it, and they never will.  They are ‘set in their ways’.  I told myself that in due time, I’d teach him through some simple education, how the disease of addiction works, scientifically.

Sadly, shortly after that drive in his car, he was shot 6 times.  Still alive, I unfortunately haven’t had the opportunity to have that conversation with him.

OK, now before I keep going and spoil my book before it’s even published, let me bring up the wide foot shoe-whore bit of the blog. I am a self-aclaimed ‘shoe whore’.  Sometimes, I’ve even introduced myself as such at AA and NA meetings before.  “Hi!  My name is Kortney, and I’m an alcoholic and shoe-aholic!”.  10 out of 10 times, I was certain to get a laugh from the crowd.  Something I live for it’d seem.  Anyway, I have this massive wide-foot problem.  I ALWAYS buy cute shoes, thinking that I’ll wear them one day.  My last big-kick, was a $400 pair of Jonathan Flueong (think I’m spelling his last name wrong) stilts that I bought on Haight and Ashbury in SF last year, after my Dad had his brain surgery at UCSF.  Impulsive little cracker I am!  Gorgeous shoes, but not smart to buy when your career is dependent upon your body working properly.  My thinking was something like, “well shit!  I gave up riding a motorcycle, AND drinking… what are the chances of me falling over in these 8″ heels sober?”.

Well, screw falling over, WHAT ABOUT THE PAIN?!  I’ve come to find out that bunions are hereditary.  I HATE the word bunion by the way.  Ever since I was little, my Aunts used to make fun of feet for being so wide.  They would refer to my feet as my “Fred Flinstones”.  Anyway, being a bigger girl, as well as lifting heavy weights, and working out nearly every day, I blow through tennis shoes within 1-2 months. The type of shoes I should be buying are Asics, New Balance, Brooks…. but they are all SO DAMN UGLY.  I’ve always been a big fan of Nike, and have probably owned close to 100 pairs of Nike tennis shoes within the last 6 years.  No kidding.  Being that my feet seem to keep getting worse and worse, and harder and harder to please in the comfort department, I have gone to buying new “trainers” (what they are called in Oz/UK) and finding them uncomfortable even after just a week period.  LAME!

Long story short, I happen to find these Nike’s in the picture above, at an athletes foot store just yesterday.  For the gals with the wide feet, these shoes are brilliant. I have descending toes, and a medium high arch.  Aside from being really wide, my feet are pretty cute, in my opinion.  Anyway, the shoe I recommend OH!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND IT’S NOT PINK, OR TURQUOISE!  THAT SHITS ME!!!!! WHEN WILL A COMPANY FIGURE IT OUT???? ALL WOMEN DON’T LIKE PINK, TURQUOISE, OR PURPLE COLORED SHOES!!!!! sorry, didn’t mean to get off on a tangent there, but the shoes for wide feet (think they are even uni-sex), are:

Nike  LUNARTRAINER……..

That’s all I can give ya, as I threw the box away.  In fact, I didn’t even take the box home.  But back to the sobriety thing… if you are just getting new to this concept, not to worry.  Didn’t mean to sound so doomsday-ish earlier.  It DOES get easier.  I’ll blogging more about this as time goes on.  But just know that you do have the capacity to lead a happy, healthy, clean and sober life.  Getting caught up in an addiction can be a very dark, scary place.  Hell, I’ve even found myself addicted to ROBITTUSEN!  how crazy is that!  Once I learned that it curbed my appetite, AND gave me a slight buzz, before I knew it, I was pounding back three bottles a day like it was the fine wine or some shit.  Can you say C R A Z Y?!?!?!?!?!?! Look, you grow up where I did, then come back to me on what’s crazy : )

Just know, that you have the choice to make a change.  Life really is what you make of it.  You can either choose to sit in the shit and smell it all day, or open your mouth, and ask for help.  By surrendering, you aren’t claiming to be less of a person.  You aren’t admitting defeat, or a weakness.  In fact, you’ll find that it will make you stronger. And lets not forget; Only the strong survive.

Happy freakin’ holidays by the way