Archive for the success Category

9th day NA

Posted in adventure, facts, friends, grunge, insanity, interactions, Narcotics Anononymous, relationships, success, values with tags , , , on June 5, 2008 by staticity

Today is my tenth day clean. I hate today. There’s nothing more that I want to do right now than go down to 5th and washington.  but no.

Yesterday (9th day) I went to a different meeting in center city this time. There were a lot more younger people there and I felt like I could relate more to them.  A guy named Jack picked me up before the meeting and we got coffee at the old cafe steph/eric/I used to go to.  Jack lived in south philly his whole life. He used to live in the same area as I do. “Back when there was a baseball field and not a basketball court.” Apparently things were safer then than they are now. It surprised me. Everyone I’ve talked to in NA can identify with where I’m living in some way. Most of them say to think about moving because it’s a real hot spot. Needless to say- I don’t walk around at night.

Jack is one of those big Italian Catholic men who has the accent. He talks a lot, which I like in a funny sort of way. He’s charming in an honest way. He plays hockey and he was wearing his jersey to the meeting.  He told me to find my higher power and rest assure that this was not a cult. I could hear my mother’s voice in the back of my head saying “Rebecca, you’re not dumb. You can be kind of naive, just remember to stay away from all those cults.” I smiled, fading back into the leather of Jack’s big SUV.

The speaker was really good last night. A lot of times they get really animated and into what they are talking about. (Rightfully so) This one was a tour guide and had to put up with cranky old ladies. He was going over the sixth step which is something about ”personal defects”. I don’t like thinking about my shit qualities as defects. It makes me feel like some sort of robot that is supposed to be perfect and ”illiminate the defects.” or something like that. We all have shit qualities. We can tone them down, but they’re never going to disappear.

So far–I’m doing what I should be doing. I need to stay clean for about a month before I can start working on the 12 steps. I feel so ridiculous going to this stuff. Hugging. Talking about higher powers. Chanting prayers. It’s weird.

This morning I was so close to calling someone for dope. I got out my suboxone medicine instead. I don’t know if that’s good or not. Suboxone is to help get off heroin and I was prescribed to it by my doctor, but I had been on it for four days and decided to stop. The past couple of days have been nightmares though. I get these wicked cravings. My doctor said I should stay on it for two months, but I don’t want to get addicted to suboxone. What’s the point in that?

any suggestions?


poetry and the upset

Posted in adventure, insanity, Philadelphia, philly, poetry, relationships, sex, success, values with tags , , , , , on March 29, 2008 by staticity


White lace turned to silver. As says the woman who refuses to color her hair. No denial for the strong. They’ve already faced the space for face. Bushy legs for the laughter that haunts gym class girls. Hitching up their jeans just in time for the no-razor policy at home.
She sneaks one in from a friend only to have it yanked from the shower a week later.

“They stole my clothes when I was in the shower.” She protests but strength is stronger when women are older.

An old man told me the answer when I asked if it ever gets better.
‘Only easier.’
Strength is curious when the pull isn’t hard. Falling flat isn’t the option that anyone looks for when their pressed against the shiny floor. Reflection is the only saving grace when embarrassment steals it from us.

The antique jewlery stayed hidden in a dusty box on a forgotten shelf. Trinkets become alive. Discovery becomes real. Gold and jewls decorated in thick chains of social events still remain in tact. They decorate the memories of old and forgotten, but still saved. Still saved.

Light orange walls with the paint peeling stayed hugging the sheetrock. They’ve been making love since the fifties, but no one looks anymore. Their secret is safe with me. The evening crickets understand when background noise becomes white with pale intentions.

“I’m never going back.” The little girl says to her mother in a heap on the floor. Naked as she is, her clothes were found. Wrapped up in disaster, her eyes are pleading for the shaving razor.

White lace as she was, the hair color remains untouched.


So today was one of those days that was the best it could get before everything went downhill. Niccolo and I spent the day together. He took off work, we hung out listening to techno and talking to the roommates.  We had the BEST sex ever. Aggressive, fun, daring.

And then came the diner. As we were walking to the diner fifteen blocks down, things took a turn for the worse.  He started talking about how he wasn’t impressed with my trying-to-get school in progress because I wasn’t there yet. He said I was dependent and also warned me he would not be around as much since he would be attending school. He kept talking and talking and talking in this snide way that he does that I consider not only patronizing, but demeaning.  I said that I agreed with everything and that he was right because after a half hour I couldn’t argue anymore. Then we got to the diner.

He said I was starting to act like Jessica. He told me that Eric told him I lied a lot when he reconciled with his dope fiend friend who has an anger problem and blamed me for his GIRLFRIEND stealing 200 dollars outof his room.  Nic kept insulting and insulting me until I finally walked out of the diner and didn’t speak to him. I told him to leave me alone.

And that’s where the night ends.

Hero Application

Posted in interactions, odd, Philadelphia, philly, pop culture, success with tags , , , , , , on March 20, 2008 by staticity

I have come to the conclusion that I need a new hero for this year.  Frequently I have random, amazing, hero’s that I write about, create stories for, and admire.

In years past, I have had the following heros:

*The guy who dresses up like Flavor Flav. on South Street and rides his bicycle with a viking helmet

*A man who danced at the Dawning just like Seth Green from Party Monster

*The woman who used to pretend she was pregnant by wearing a pillow under her shirt

*Someone who dressed up as Ronald Mcdonald and sat on a park bench drinking beer on week nights.

If you would like to be my hero, there are a few requirements:

You must be interesting.

You must have some sort of odd talent worth writing about

You must have a sense of humor

You must not mind being stalked or having random photos snapped during odd hours.

If interested, please send me a photograph and a paragraph on why you should qualify to:

PLEASE serious inquries ONLY

My Future

Posted in adventure, friends, success, values with tags , , on March 20, 2008 by staticity

In the wee wee hours we make night and day. Someday, when I’m rich and famous, I’m going to move down to New Orleans and build myself a house. It’s going to be a shacker, one of those kinds with a screen door that screeches with the crickets, not over them. There’s going to be nothing but blues playing from night to day. A giant piano will sit laid back in a room where everyone can play. All my roommates will play music.
They’ll mosy out of their room around three in the afternoon and buy a bottle of bourbon and start playing. We’ll sing until three in the morning.

Yup, when I’m rich and famous I’m going to leave the city. No more mad-mouthed city folk for me. I’m heading straight home to Louisiana. Catch a train somewhere and won’t stop until I’m satisfied.
I imagine I’ll come across some pretty odd people on a train to Louisiana. Probably some illegals, looking to find a place away from the law. I’ll say, ‘hey, you heading where I’m going?’
They’ll say ‘yes ma’am. Soon as I’m done with this wine, I’m going to float my way back home and never head back.’

We’ll start a posse. A group of odd balls from all over the place.
One Electrician for obvious reasons.
One blues pianist for drinking reasons.
One geek for entertainment.
And a small Italian woman to cook.
Yup, we’ll be friends from the beginning and right up to the end.

Some people might ask, why go to a flop house if you’re rich and famous? Well, I’ll say, It’s been a long time coming for some place I can relax.
What with all the book signings and tv interviews, a girl can get pretty tired. NYC isn’t for everyone you know.

I’ll eat off the fat of the land and avoid religion at all costs. Some paranoid catholic comes into my field, I’ll set them right in their place. Across the property.

Extravagant parties will be thrown. Invitation only of course. Writers, painters, musicians, photographers, people with real personality.  Accents included. Boston, Louisiana, New York if it has to be. Hell, I’ll even let Canadians come. Gawty dresses, feather costumes, no clothing at all. It doesn’t matter. Me and my posse will charge at the door, five dollars each. Bourbon and pipe tobacco flowing free through out the house.

If someone comes into stop us, we’ll woo them with our stories of wit and adventure until they too are partying with the rest of us.
“I must say, I was going to arrest everyone of you all, but I finally realized, there’s no other place like this on earth.”
And who knows. Maybe it would be true.

The First Day Successes

Posted in adventure, art, facts, gross, grunge, insanity, interactions, life, Philadelphia, philly, relationships, success, values on February 12, 2008 by staticity

Today was hell. I figured I should write it down before I either explode in silence, or pass out from exhaustion. From six a.m. to two p.m. I started feeling the symptoms.

Cold sweats. Hot flashes. Aches. Vomiting. Depression. Coughing. Dizziness. Exhaustion. Confusion. And just an overall unpleasant feeling.

From two p.m. I staggered out of bed naked from last night. I desperately wanted to use the bathroom but to my luck, our pipes broke and the toilets don’t work. I grabbed a thin bathrobe and made it to the shower. My first success. About twenty minutes later I hobbled back to my room to try and turn on the space heater, but it sparked off (which means I have to unplug it and wait for a half hour to turn it back on.)

So then I cried for a little while. (The space heater was a big upset as you can see) I tried sleeping but dreams consisted of a whore house with flashing lights leading to mine and a friend’s arrest for using dope. After that I didn’t really feel tired.

Upstairs to Joe’s room it was. This was the second success. I couldn’t find the hair brush under all the filth in our room so I just left it wet and tangled. I listened to MFDoom and Michael Jackson records with Matthew and Joe and Joe’s new girlfriend. I smiled when Matthew started dancing to ‘PYT’. That was my third success.

Someone asked me why I was so sick. I told Matthew what was going on and he was really really supportive. He wasn’t upset at all and it felt so good to have people that knew and were really genuinely concerned let me hang out with them. That was my fourth success.

Then. Came the unimaginable. Matthew suggested we go out for pizza. The weather must have been negative with wind and I was already cold, but I knew I had to get out or I would start feeling worse. After about an hour of procrastinating and listening to more records, we left the house. It was bitter frozen. The winds were hitting the alleys like boxers. Mad boxers. Maybe as mad as Mike Tyson himself.

At a slow group pace, we gradually defeated Mike Tyson one step at at a time and made it to 7th and Carpenter. I bought a a big pizza for everyone and ate about half a slice before throwing up. We talked about the stupid news that was on the pizza parlor tv. I laughed when we all made fun of the chickens that were ‘running ramped in a PA middle school.’ That was the fifth success.

We ate and talked for a long time. I got to use the bathroom at the pizza place. Sixth success. I bought something to drink and as Matthew and the gang went to the library, I made it home with out any lurking pedestrians asking me if ‘I was good?’ Seventh Success.

I was approaching the stoop when a terrible thought crossed my mind. What if the door is locked. Now, I did have my keys around my neck, but I am a frequent worrier and one of my problems is opening locked doors. Sure enough the door was locked. It must have been a test of God. I finally found the latch to my necklace (were my keys safely rest) and with frigid fingers got the keys to miraculously fit in the door. Eighth Success!!

With an adventure accomplished and a small amount of food still in me, I went upstairs and lied down to watch cartoons for an hour. I went back downstairs to socialize with the roommates and watch a movie later on tonight. Ninth success.

So far, it’s eight thirty p.m. The vomiting has subsided and although there is no toilet, I think I can wait until tomorrow.

Today is the first day.

Tomorrow is the last day.

Wednesday is a break day with two lines.

Thursday is the first day again.

Friday is the last day.

Saturday is break day with two more lines.

Sunday is the first day.

Monday is the toughest day.

Tuesday is the last day.

Wednesday is sanity again with two lines.

I can do it. Today was a success. Tomorrow comes later.


Two days ago was the start. This was the look of things.