Sweet Addiction

Everyone has addictions. I have addictions, you have addictions. Even if we don't admit them out loud.

Usually people consider it a bad thing. Most people think addiction and think drugs, smoking, drinking.

But it can be a good thing too. Brushing your teeth, getting up at a certain time, checking yourself right before you swear. These are addictions.

Addiction, impulse, obsession.

Some of my addictions are to being lazy, animals, coffee, walking in circles, sex. I think about or finding myself indulging my addictions at least once a day. They are my tender lovers stroking the back of my head, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

I guess I'm lucky. I haven't had much experience with the 'hard' addictions. Yeah, I've smoked and drank before. Though I don't smoke now and I really only drink at New Years.

The last time I drank was with my family at Grant's Farm, a zoo-like attraction in St. Louis, Missouri. Everyone was sharing their experiences with drugs and tricking stupid people into thinking they were drunk on soda. But apparently drugs don't affect my family. Woo. That's a little depressing. Isn't it?

Fun times with my family. It's a huge family. We've all smoked, most still do. My elder sister kicked the habit after she had all her kids ("thank god cigarettes lowered their birth weights!"). We all drink. It's fun. My sister drank her ex-boyfriend under the table last New Year's. Not an uncommon occurrence.

We come from alcoholic fathers. My elder siblings are actually my half siblings, though we share the same last name and grew up together. Our fathers both come from the same general bloodline, my father was married into the family of their father. They both come from the same generation, being more than a decade older than mom; they served in the military, come from farming families and were abusive drunks.

I was lucky in that my father had been broken of his habit of beating the crap out of everyone before I grew up enough to remember.

He still drinks. But he doesn't hurt anyone now.

Addictions are really only bad when they hurt others. If you want to hurt yourself, fine, we'll tolerate you. It is a free country.

I think I would like to break a few more of my addictions and to start a few new, better ones in their place. I recently broke my personal vow of abstinence, but I think I'll renew that. I need to get another exercise-like addiction. That would be a helpful, don't you think? Let's all make a resolution to gain a new addiction, just for fun. We could all use another secret love affair to make our lives more enjoyable.

What's this look like?

And what am I doing with it?

Honsetly, every time I think about blogging, it feels like a part of my brain closes down. It has more to do with online journals and how blogs seem to be just that. Journal = Private, at least in my case.

So just like my real life journals, the imaginary journal in my head snaps shut at the very notion that anyone should ever lay eyes on it.

But, I hear good things about blogging. Good stress relief, made new friends, yada yada.

So then, how does one go about blogging anyway? Well since this is the first post, common sense says you should say something interesting about yourself. HAH.

There goes my brain, shutting down again.

Fine. Let's talk about something inpersonal (is anything written really impersonal?). Right now I'm listening to the radio. I should be in bed. The house is a freaking mess. I have a puppy sleeping in my lap. My standard Dachshund Chester (13 year old rescue) and Jack Russel Tessie are sleeping in the chair next to me. Chester's a chair-stealer. And a pillow snatcher. I haven't slept with a pillow for at least a week now.

The puppy on my lap is a Dachshund, too. Actually, he's probably 3/4 Dachshund, 1/4 Chihuahua mix. But he looks Dachshund. Two of his brothers are also pillow snatchers. They're so short, how are they even getting on and off my bed? I used to put them up there, because they'd wake me in the night and I'd roll over and half stupid from sleep pick them up to snuggle and sooth them. Even though they didn't want me. They wanted my pillow.

Kitty-cat on my lap now. I haven't named this one. She's tabby and white. My mother said I should give them away so they'll grow. It's weird, but apparently the kittens stay tiny until given away, then they shoot into full adults in a matter of weeks where they'd been kittens for months and months. My mother's theory is an animal won't grow if you 'wool' it, loving on it daily like I tend to. Practical experiements (the few I'm willing to do, since it involves giving away my babies) seems to support her theory. But whatever. Let the cats stay kittens twice as long as the books say they should. What's the harm?

Maybe there's something in the water?

Besides bleach, I mean. Seriously, well water any day. Espeically over nasty bottled water. 'Purified'? Yeah, I feel like I'm drinking water from the public pool. Did you run it through the jets of the Jacuzzi, too? Mm, tasty. Thanks.

Oh crap, look what I've just done! I've rambled! Oh, no.

Well, I guess I should say one last thing.
Imaddictedtocoffeekaythanksbye.