Wednesday, October 16, 2013

The Greatest Gift of All (is sometimes something really weird)

With the appearance of the November issues of women’s magazines on the shelves, the December issues cannot be far behind. As always, the November covers focus on being thankful and on losing weight while eating holiday meals. I’m sure that, as always, the December covers will use the word, ”gift” to refer to something that money cannot buy. And losing weight. Of course I am thankful for my family (unless I am irritated by them) and the best gift I have ever received really was something that money cannot buy. Which surprises me, I love things that cost money!

In 2005 I went to rehab. Now called Las Encinas Hospital, the facility I went to was originally, The Southern California Sanitarium for Nervous Diseases and was described as, “a general medical sanitarium for chronic conditions including the psycho-neuroses and for fatigue states,” Much as I wish I’d just stopped by to rest up and get out of a “fatigue state,” I was there for thirty days with the idea that once those thirty days were done I wouldn't drink anymore. If you stop a moment to picture a mental hospital (I mean, let’s call a spade a spade here) that was built in 1904, that big, creepy Vincent Price-type building you’re picturing is pretty dead on. Also, I was there in January and it poured rain the entire month! Okay, most of the month but it felt like it rained the entire time.

After “detoxing” I was moved to one of the “bungalows.” I was supposed to have a roommate but the girls they kept assigning to live with me couldn't stay sober long enough to get out of the lock-down building and into a bungalow so I had the place to myself. There’s a lot of “togetherness” in rehab what with all of the groups and activities and meetings and all so I liked the solitude of my creepy little bungalow in the rain.
My husband visited me every day and my children came by often. My parents came to see me once and when the front desk confiscated the glass vase my mother was carrying and handed her back the naked, dripping flowers I had to explain to her that I wasn't allowed anything I could harm myself with. Because she was still confused as to how a small, glass vase could be harmful I elaborated, explaining that I could break the vase and use the shards to slit my wrists. My mother spent the rest of her visit peering into desk drawers and looking under lampshades, afraid that I’d become suddenly and creatively suicidal.

One night while I was in line for meds at the nurses’ station, my husband appeared and told me to come to my bungalow. He had a surprise for me. I told him he’d have to wait a few minutes, I wanted my meds first. I was an addict, after all, if I couldn't drink I certainly didn't want to miss an opportunity to ingest a mind-altering substance no matter how weak and unsatisfying it might be. I could sense his impatience with me but he waited until I got my meds and we ran through the rain to my bungalow. (In case you think the whole rain thing is hyperbolic, it was actually raining that night. It’s totally part of the story.) Inside my bungalow was a damp cardboard box and lying on my bed was my equally damp cat! Icky Cat and I cuddled together, both of us grateful to be together again. Although my husband sneaking a large, wet yowling cat into Las Encinas probably sheds light on how my potential roommates kept relapsing on meth even though they never left the grounds, I have never loved him more or received a better gift since.

So, yes, November magazine covers, I know what I am most thankful for. And when December hits the newsstands, I’m ready to reveal the greatest gift I have ever received. And to learn how to lose weight over the holidays.

Happy Halloween You Sexy Little Mermaid

It’s almost Halloween, ladies, what are you dressing up as this year? A sexy firefighter? A slutty schoolgirl? Or maybe a kitty cat (which is, as we all know, a leotard with ears and a tail—meow!) Judging by the commercial options available, once we take off our Disney Princess outfits we all like to slip into something naughty on October thirty first. Offensive as this idea is, no scanty costume is as disturbing as that of an otherwise wholesome childhood character gone rogue. Let’s start with Naughty Nemo.

Yes, Nemo the clownfish from the Disney movie. Quoting the website’s description of this costume, “Enjoy ocean life as a sassy fish in this Naughty Nemo Costume! ... Have them saying Nem-OH! in this sassy fish costume!” So much is wrong here! First, why didn’t the copywriter do a “search and replace” to avoid repeating the phrase “sassy fish” in such a short description? And second, who is this costume for? Is a die-hard fan of the movie in the same demographic as someone who wants to walk the sidewalks Halloween night as a scantily clad fish? And whose idea was this costume and is he on a registry somewhere?

It’s hard to pick the worst example of this misuse of children’s characters but slutty Cookie Monster is way at the top of that list. The costume’s description was mercifully limited to fabric content but did feature the headline, “Cookies! Umm Numm Numm!” And probably the best clue as to the costume’s complete inappropriateness is the “suggested products” list which was a collection of clear plastic stripper shoes and thigh high boots. Whether Mommy is to dress as (nudge, nudge, wink, wink) Cookie Monster while Trick or Treating with her little Bert and Ernie or whether Mommy’s costume is just for alone time with Daddy so they can play “One of These Things is Not Like the Other” is unknown. But as my Grandpa used to say, “That’s just not right.”

So, ladies, this brings me back to my original question. What will you be for Halloween this year? Smart. Let’s all just be really smart.

Tuesday, September 24, 2013

"Fun Size" Candy Bars Not Having Fun

I'm busting out some fiction 'cause sometimes that's how I roll. Enjoy this glimpse into the life of yucky candy inspired by the appearance of Halloween in the aisles of every store I go to. Rebecca     

     Some already sat with their Styrofoam cups of lukewarm coffee.  Penny had forgotten the cookies.  She was having trouble keeping her commitment.  The rest of the group was wondering if she was “back out”.  Cigarette smoke drifted in through the church basement door.  Soon they would deposit their butts in the sand filled coffee cans and join the others.  They sucked in all the nicotine they could get until the meeting started.  It was sad and pathetic.  But then, so were they.
     “Hi, I’m Smartee and I am yucky candy.”
     “Hi Smartee.”
     “Now that Halloween is over I know many of us can breathe a little easier.  As many of you know, Halloween is one of the toughest times of the year to be yucky candy. This is a participation meeting and remember there is no cross talk.  First, I’d like Waxed Paper Orange Thing to read the treasurers report.”
     “I’m Waxed Paper Orange Thing and I’m your Yucky Treasurer.”
     “Hi Waxed Paper Orange Thing.”
     “Last week we collected twelve dollars, we spent two dollars on chips and nine fifty on Yucky literature, leaving us with fifty cents.  Thank you for letting me be of service.”
     The other Yucky Candy applauded wildly.
     “Thank you Waxed Paper Orange Thing.  Are there any Yucky announcements from the group? Yes Peep.”
    “There is a Yucky step meeting this Friday at the senior center,” said Peep, “it’s a non-smoking meeting.”
     The group applauded as Peep sat down.
     “Thank you Peep,” said Smartee, “unless there are any non Yucky announcements we’ll get started.  Who would like to go first?”
     “I’ll go,” said Penny, “I’m Penny and I’m Yucky Candy.”
     “Hi Penny”, said the group.
     “Okay, I know it’s pretty obvious that I’m not really candy, I mean, I’m a penny, duh.  But I started coming to Yucky Candy meetings two years ago when I saw what was happening to pennies on Halloween.  People would buy candy, shitloads of it but they would run out, you know.  And what do people do when they run out of candy and they still have little bastards ringing their doorbells?  They look around their houses for shit.  First they take stuff from their own kids trick or treat bags, then they start looking through their cupboards.  But the really lazy dudes.  They just reach in their pockets and start handing out pennies.  It’s fucking humiliating man.  First the good candy, you know Milky Ways and Snickers, I don’t have to paint you a picture, then Nerds and Bottle Caps and shit like that, then me, a penny.  It’s fucking weak, man.  Bottom of the barrel fucking weak.  Two years ago when I was sharing bag space with an unwrapped caramel and some other nasty dusty shit I started coming here.  I owe you guys a lot.  Thanks.”
     After the group finished their applause, Waxed Paper Orange Thing spoke
     “I’m Waxed Paper Orange Thing and I’m Yucky Candy.”
     “Hi Waxed Paper Orange Thing.”
     “Thank you Penny for sharing.  I had a really tough week.  Halloween is the worst for me.  I mean you guys know.  Look at me.  I am everywhere at Halloween.  But who really knows me?  Who really knows my name?  Me and Waxed Paper Black Thing, we show up in October spend some time and then we’re forgotten for a year.  And kids know.  When a Waxed Paper Orange Thing or a Waxed Paper Black thing get tossed into their trick or treat bag they know we’re not name brand.  They know we came from some cheap ass giant bag of generic shit.  And that’s how I felt when I started coming here.  Like cheap ass generic shit.  But, in these rooms I have found strength.  I know I’ll never be traded for M&M’s, but I also know I’m not the only Yucky Candy out there.  Anyway, thanks for letting me share.”
     The group knowingly applauded.
     “I’m Box of Raisins and I’m Yucky, shit I’m not even Yucky Candy, I’m just Yucky.”
     “Hi Box of Raisins.”
     “First, I’d like to thank Waxed Paper Orange Thing and Penny for their share.”
     Penny and Waxed Paper Orange Thing acknowledged Box of Raisins with a nod.  Of all the Yucky Candy members, Box of Raisins appeared to have suffered the most before joining the group.  The corners of his box were tattered and frayed, the group could only speculate as to the condition of his contents.  He was also one of the few to attend other meetings.  They had heard that he regularly went to the Yucky Fruit step studies.
     “As most of you know,” began Box of Raisins, “I was out there a long time before I found this group.  Sometimes for Raisins we go through a lot before we finally hit bottom.  I mean you start out in, say, a little kid’s lunch.  You get taken back home, put back in a lunch the next day, fished out of the trash by the teacher, given to another kid who forgot a snack, taken back home and put in a cupboard.  Then, like Penny, I could totally relate to what you were saying man.”
     Penny and Box of Raisins exchanged a smile.
     “Halloween comes.  They run out of candy, they go through the cupboards and ‘oh look’ they find a Box of Raisins.  Into some kids bag you go and the whole nightmare starts all over again.” Box of Raisins paused.  “Yucky Candy saved my life, saved my goddamn life.  Thanks for letting me share.”
     After the applause, Fruitcake volunteered to share.  Fruitcake seemed unusually agitated.
     “I’m Fruitcake and I’m Yucky,” he said.
     “Hi Fruitcake.”
     “Like some of you I’m not even candy, man, I’m just fucking yucky.  What, like I’m gonna go to the Yucky Cake meetings?  Can’t.  You know why?  Because cake isn’t fucking yucky man, cake is good.  They don’t even have to have a group for yucky cake because it doesn’t fucking exist except for me.  I’m a fruitcake, a fucking joke!  I give you Halloween candy big props man, you made it through.  But now it’s fucking November.  Merry fucking fruitcake Christmas!”
     Fruitcake began to cry.  He was usually so tough, a rock for everyone, literally a rock.  But as Christmas approached he always had a really hard time.  He had been coming to the group for years.  The group assumed it was the same fruitcake.  They had heard the rumors, the jokes about how there was really only one fruitcake that just got passed around from year to year.  Tough life, a fruitcake.
     “I’m Hollow Chocolate Bunny and I’m Yucky Candy.”
     “Hi Hollow Chocolate Bunny.”
     “I’m in a really good place right now.”
     “Yeah,” said Fruitcake, “You’re fucking Easter candy dude!”
     “Fruitcake,” said Smartee, “I’m sorry there’s no cross talk.”
     “Sorry man,” said Fruitcake.
     “I’d like to thank everyone for their share,” continued Hollow Chocolate Bunny, “so, yeah, I’m in a really good place right now.  I went on the Yucky retreat and it was super awesome.  We all got mantras.  So now when I feel bad about being hollow and everything I just say, ‘Your expectations are not my responsibility.  I’m hollow and that’s okay’.  Because at the retreat I really learned a lot about myself.  And I learned that I was feeling super guilty about being hollow.  That I was, like, ‘owning’ everyone’s disappointment in my lack of solidity.  And I just could not take that on.  I had to make that someone else’s problem.  So, right now I’m feeling really good about being hollow.  So next time there’s a Yucky retreat you guys should totally go.  Thanks for letting me share.”
     After the group’s applause, Smartee spoke.
     “First, I’d like to thank everyone for sharing.  I can relate to so many of you.  I know most of you know my story but this Halloween marks my tenth birthday so I wanted to share.  For years I didn’t really know I had a problem.  I thought I was social candy, you know, like Sweet-Tarts.  But then I started to notice I was different.  You can buy Sweet-Tarts in regular stores anytime you want.  They are always available, socially acceptable.  But Smartees?  Halloween only.  Like Waxed Paper Orange Thing I came to realize I was a different kind of candy.  You can only buy Smartees in weird bulk packages and only once a year.  I’m not normal candy like Sweet-Tarts, Normies as we like to say.”
     The group chuckled softly.  Smartees continued.
     “I’m Yucky Candy. Thanks for letting me share.”
     The Yucky Candy applauded wildly, nodding their affirmation.  Smartee spoke again.
     “Do we have any newcomers here?” he said.
     In the back of the room an odd looking visitor stood.  He was pale orange, a little dented and slightly spongy  looking.  Peep and the Granola Bar sitting next to him noticed a sickly sweet odor as he stood.
     “I’m Circus Peanut and I’m Yucky Candy.”
     “Hi Circus Peanut.”
     Circus Peanut winced at the loud enthusiastic greeting.
     “I’ve never been to anything like this before and I’m really nervous.  But a few days ago I think I finally realized that I’m Yucky Candy.  Like for most of you, Halloween is really hard for me.  I mean I’ve never had a wrapper, no one is ever happy to see me, but I think I finally hit bottom.  I was spending a lot of time with lots of candy.  Not so much in trick or treat bags or cupboards but in a dish.  I hung out with mints, peanuts, jelly beans, lots of different stuff.  Then last week as everything else was disappearing from the dish I realized, I’ve been sitting here for years.  Seriously, years.  Christmas candy, malted milk eggs, orange slices, candy corn; year after year and there I was.  Just sitting in the dish getting hard and stale.  Going nowhere.  Then, a few days ago it was just me and a starlight mint.  You know those, there’s a lot of them in baskets at Mexican restaurants.  Anyway, someone picked up the mint.  And it finally hit me.  I am Yucky Candy.  So I came here.” Circus Peanut hesitated, unsure as to what to do next, “Thanks for letting me share.”
     He sat down during the group’s applause.  The Granola Bar patted him encouragingly as he sat.
     “That’s all the time we have,” said Smartee, “I’d like to thank our Yucky treasurer Waxed Paper Orange Thing and Penny for coffee set up.  I’d like to welcome our newcomer, Circus Peanut and I’d like to thank everyone who shared.  Now after a moment of silence for the Yucky Candy in and out of these rooms I’d like you all to stand and join me in the Yucky affirmations.”
     The group stood and recited the Yucky affirmations together.  Circus Peanut looked around at this room of Yucky Candy and other Yucky misfits and felt more at home than he ever had.  He thought of a Maple Cluster he once knew and a couple of Boston Baked Beans.  They belonged at this meeting too. But he knew they would have to come to the realization themselves that they, like he, were Yucky Candy.