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You’re not supposed to get kicked out of a support group.
I mean, if you’re a total dick and making fun of a person’s problems or you start telling everyone’s secrets on your personal humor blog (see what I did there?), then I can understand it. But I got booted for not showing up.
I had forgotten that this happened.
Timestamp – September 6th, 2006.
Back when I had just started dating my future ex-wife I used to take a lot of baths. She had a condo and lived a few blocks from me. To help with the mortgage I acquired a roommate. This made sense as I spent nearly all of my time over at Christina’s place. Within months I had made myself at home (her home).
As I drove home from night two of BlogHer I started to cry.
I was lucky this year. BlogHer, the largest blogging conference in the country, was hosted in my hometown of Chicago. This meant easy travel from my condo to the conference. Actually, it was kind of a hassle. Sure I saved some dough by not having to spring for a hotel, but I was traveling back and forth at least once a day. Each time I parked it was $36. I had to go home to let the dog out.
I really thought I could outsmart a firepit.
For the past four days I’ve been at a Tony Robbins seminar in the suburbs of Chicago. Over five thousand people have come in from eighteen countries to listen to the man with the huge hands help them help themselves. During the past few days I’ve cheered, yelled, screamed to the heavens, cried, and danced to over fifty songs. I’ve hugged well over a hundred strangers and given group massages to participants. When I leave to go to the bathroom I instinctively high-five people coming out of the bathroom. This would not be well-received in polite society. But, hey, this is Tony Robbins. It’s the culture of the event. You drink the Kool-Aid.
Well, not technically “stood up.”
I wasn’t that sad sack sitting at a table for two watching a candle melt down and consistently asking for water refills waiting for my date not to arrive.
In the afternoon my date sent me a text message, “Something came up – can’t make it tonight. So sorry.” I replied with, “No problem. If you want to reschedule, let me know.” She wrote back, “Of course!”
When we last left D.J. he had just fallen through a glass table at a makeshift summer party at Adam’s grandparents’ condo. Blood was flowing freely from his fanny (again with the alliteration?) and he was waiting for the dopey ambulance EMTs to find the home. They had pulled into the wrong complex.
I was terrified of women until I was twenty-one.
For some reason I knew I was the ugliest man to walk the face of the earth. Only Rocky Dennis had it worse than me. I’m not sure where this idea came from. I mean, stupid Lisa Gulick rejected me back in seventh grade and I think that I just extrapolated out to every woman. It’s just good science.
I’m going back to shampoo.
I gave this a real shot.
I’d been reading about the “no-poo” movement for months before I pulled the trigger. Replace all my shampoo with baking soda? Check! Apple cider vinegar as my new conditioner? Double check! I did it as instructed.
I’m two days caffeine sober.
I had to do it.
The past four years I hadn’t touched any caffeine. Well, let me back up. Basically I didn’t drink any caffeine until I was thirty-one years old. Then I discovered energy drinks and the amazing high you get from them. Since I don’t drink or use drugs the highs I experience are limited. I can’t butt bong a beer, huff hobby glue, or pack bong loads. I can eat too much pizza and drink caffeine. That’s it for me.
I'll never give this child another cigarette, pinky swears!
