 Today, I know how damn lucky I am to be happy, joyous and free. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t acknowledge my gratitude for life, the universe and everything in some small way.
I owe my sustained bliss to the tools for living I adopted as a direct result of the ravages alcoholism has wreaked on me and many of my loved ones during the past couple of decades. I was introduced to those tools because of someone else’s problem drinking, then in my 30s, developed a problem of my own that quickly reached critical mass. I am so grateful that I already had a foundation of recovery and knew exactly where to go for help. This Wednesday, Nov. 20, it will be four years since I had my last drink. Four years free of hangovers. Four years out of the abyss and into the sunshine. Four years of gifts that just keep on givin’.
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 On this lovely Monday, I’m recovering from my annual trip to the mountains of Eastern Kentucky for the 28th annual Tacky Lawn Ornament & Pink Flamingo Soiree. I camped, hiked, laughed ‘til I cried, ran around in the pouring rain and got a total of about six hours of sleep in three days.
And I can’t stop smiling about it. The Soiree is a festival of sorts, except it’s not. In fact, it’s impossible to adequately explain its appeal to those who have never been to that area of Pine Mountain in Whitesburg, Ky., for this particular weekend event. It’s an invitation-only shindig, and admission is $25 and a tacky lawn ornament. Another $10 will get you the event’s T-shirt, which is quite possibly the best souvenir EVER. This year’s Soiree was unique for me for a couple of reasons. One, I made the trek without my usual camping buddy for the first time — my wingman, my BFF, Whitney. And two, this is the first year in which my one and only vice was caffeinated iced tea.  Thank God my days of squeezing strangers’ boobs are over.
See, I’ve been making a concerted effort to socialize more this year, so I’m open to trying new things. Within reason. My most recent weekend excursion was boating in an area of the Ohio River affectionately known as “Party Cove.” I was a virgin to both boating on the river and the Party Cove bedlam. And boy, was it one delight after another. I mean that in the nicest possible way. Mostly. For the uninitiated, Party Cove is a summer hotspot for anyone who owns a boat and a beer cooler in the Louisville area. I’d heard of it, of course, but the idea of joining in the debauchery never really appealed to me before now.  I don’t drink anymore.
In November, it will be three years since the last drop of Shiraz passed my lips. Or Pinot Grigio, for that matter. Red or white, I wasn’t picky toward the end. As long as it was 12 bucks or less and came in a 1.5 liter bottle, I was all good. When people ask me why I quit, it depends on who’s asking as to how I respond. Professional acquaintances get the most diluted, simple explanation: “It became a problem, so I stopped.” |
About Amy HiggsA former newspaper columnist, Amy takes her random, slice-of-life stories to the web. After 12 years, she's still just saying. Archives
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