A Gift Real Special

This is what I call a Christmas classic.

Uncensored version, so proceed with caution...

Hot Stuff

I'm guessing the conversation went something like this:

Mom?
Yeah, Mom, it's me. Mom I've got awesome news!
No, no I'm not getting married.
Mom, listen...
No, Mom, I keep telling you I like women.
Yes, really.... Listen, Mom, I got the commercial!
No, not the Pepsi gig.
What?
No, not that one, either... It's actually for Tabasco!
Yes, the hot stuff.
What? No, I'm not wearing the blouse you gave me, Mom, guys wear shirts.
No I don't have a love interest, it's a commercial.
A pepperoni.
A pepperoni.
Pep-a-ro-nee!!!
Yes like on a pizza!
What?
Singing.
No, singing!
Yes you heard me!
No, there's four of us.
Yes, we all sing.
What do you mean how will you recognize me?
The second pepperoni from the bottom...

Thanks, Stadium Pal!!!

Last night I had the most fun I have had since... well... a long time.

We went to Birmingham for An Evening With David Sedaris, author of Me Talk Pretty One Day (which got me hooked) and Naked (which has led me to put down Dan Brown's new one in favor of it). They are just two among many others that I will devour as soon as I get the chance. We laughed, howled, even, as we listened while Sedaris read his essays about everything from jury duty to email to shopping at Costco. My sides still hurt.

Check him out here, and if you evereverever can, in person...

It was my friend Frank, a writer in San Francisco, who finally set me straight. When asked about my new look he put down his fork and stared at me for a few moments...

"A bow tie announces to the world you can no longer get an erection."

- David Sedaris

Are You Tired Of Being Turned Down?

When I figure out what the little girl in the beginning is saying I will feel the same as I did when I found out about "tin roof rusted" from Love Shack. Anyway this is an example of genius advertising in my area. The quality isn't so hot, but you get the idea.

Ryhmes With Larry Jay

Last week I was having lunch with my mom when this perky little thing approached our table.

Excuse me, she sang, I hope you don’t think I’m crazy but my friend and I over there were talking about how gorgeous your eyes are!

Thank you, I said, that’s very nice of you.

Well I was just wonderin’ if you would be interested in helpin’ me out? I need a face model…

Now, flattering as that was, I was skeptical to say the least. As much as I’d like to claim that people stop me in restaurants all the time to tell me how pretty my eyes are, they don’t. So I wasn’t quite ready to run home and tell all my friends how I’d just gotten discovered at the Golden Rule BBQ and that at 41 my modeling career was finally going to be launched…

What do you want me to do? I asked Perky.

Well we would just do your makeup and take your pitcher.

I told her I didn’t mind but that I lived in a different city.

Omahgaaawd! Me toooo! (Apparently we weren’t just neighbors we were also soul mates) Would you mind givin’ me your phone number?

She handed me a business card. The card was not from a famous modeling agency, but from a cosmetics company famous for its in-home parties.

She leaves the table with the promise of calling me the next day. When she does call, it’s more flattery. I thank her again and then ask what it is she wants me to do. She says she can come to my house or I can meet her at her “training center.” I say I prefer to meet her. We agree on a day and time, but before the conversation ends I tell her that I have no problem helping her out if she needs to demonstrate her products, but that I am not in the market to purchase anything.

Oh, noooo! You’d be helping me soooo much! She is singing again.

Fine. We end the conversation with pleasantries and her promise of a goody bag for me for my troubles.

So last night was the night. I arrived at the designated time and was shown into a room in which every piece of furniture had been covered with pink leopard print material and its walls adorned with pictures of women driving pink Cadillacs. Perky sits me down at one end of the table and starts opening her case full of cosmetics. Meantime, a group of women who all know each other also come in and sit at the table. The other women are asked to fill out a card while my hostess assembles a few items in front of me. She also tells me that she has a gift card for me for “helping” which sounds promising for a moment. There is another version of Perky in the room who is dealing with the rest of the group. At this point the little faith I have that I am going to be the subject for the demonstration quickly disappears when Perky announces that she will be back a little later and that I should just follow Perky Two’s instructions.

So for an hour I sit and follow my cleansing, exfoliating, moisturizing and application
directions. When we were done, Perky reappeared with some of her colleagues and addressed the group. Other than not being allowed to ask her weight (who the hell would?) we were told we could ask whatever we wanted to know about her and her job. The more questions we asked the more raffle tickets we would get in order to win a free eye shadow. (A $6.50 value!) Out of the dozen or so people in the room, myself and one other person asked questions and I was The Big Eye Shadow Winner. So I would get that along with my “gift card.” The demonstration was over once The Other Perky announced that we could own the items demonstrated to us for a mere $189.

My Perky then presented me with a brochure listing items beginning at $48. (For the record, my skin care regime is generic apricot scrub and Dove lotion) I asked what else she might have that wasn’t quite so expensive. She said that she had a bunch of eye shadow or she could get her other case with other cosmetics in it out of her car. When I told her I did like the eye shadow that was used in the demonstration, she said that those were $10 because they were crème, but that I could get both colors with my gift card if I liked. I said fine, I would. I asked about the lip gloss. She told me that’s $13. Thirteen effing dollars for lip gloss? Never mind, I’ll get me a tub of Vaseline and some glitter and my lips will shine just the same. She again presented me with the brochure and a selection of non-crème eye shadow. As pretty as colors like violet and navy are, I am not wearing them on my face. Finally I said that since I’d only used $20 of the $25 gift card and I’d won an eye shadow, (a $6.50 value!) why didn’t she just let me get the lip gloss and I’d be on my way. After some hesitation she agreed, but not before she asked me if I’d help her again.

I think I will stick with my routine the way it is. Maybe she’ll discover someone else at Golden Corral.

376

August 17th, 2009 wasn't anything like I thought it would be. For the 364 days before that I had been counting down to it, thinking that there would be some kind of music or bright shining light that would follow me around and that people would know I was something special. Truth is, the day was cloudy and blah and I spent most of it in the car in search of a job, so with the exception of the time I spent during my interview with the Human Resource Manager I was by myself, and I realize now that it's just fine.

August 17, 2008 was the day I stopped drinking. That day I was scared, lonely and very sick. I'm not so scared or lonely anymore, but the sick part will be with me forever. The difference now is that I know it, admit it, and love it. I love it because alcohol no longer runs my life. I love it because I have an answer. I love it because I now know how many people there are that know exactly how I feel and that I can talk about it without reservation or fear of judgement. I love it because I feel a freedom like I never have and I am not willing to give that up. I am a grateful, recovering alcoholic.

Some of you who have visited here before may be familiar with what I call The Beer Ticker. It was my way of counting my days sober, and another level of accountability to myself. Many of you have counted the days right along with me, something from which I have drawn a tremendous amount of strength and encouragement. I can never express how humbled I am by the words of love and support that you have shared here as it has helped me beyond description. I've decided, though, to retire the ticker. Frankly I don't feel that I need it anymore and it's time to move on. So this will be the last time you will see the words:

"The value of Budweiser stock continues to plummet on this, the 376th day of Amy's sobriety... Sell! Sell! Sell!"

I love you all.

~Amy

What's That Smell?

I get these a lot...