Drinking

Moral dilemma 5

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It happened at a college party the weekend before finals. She thought he was a friend when he invited her in his room to tell her something he didn’t want anyone to overhear. They knew each other for almost two years. She trusted him.

Maybe I was at home saying my prayers for her continued safety as I was going to bed that night. Her roommate walked in looking for her as she struggled to get away. She left the party crying, her trust broken.

The party continued on…He had another secret to share in his room. This girl had too much to drink and wasn’t feeling that well. He gave her something to make her feel better…Xanax. This time he was smarter. He found a way to lock the door. She wasn’t able to fight him off. She couldn’t get away..

My daughter asked…why her and not me? I can’t believe he would do something like this. He was my friend..

She couldn’t concentrate on finals. She just wanted to go home. She felt so sad. She found it hard to trust again. She told her professor who called the campus police.

She told us that she didn’t want to tell the police about the other girl. She thought it would be too painful and wanted to protect the girl. Plus she wasn’t there when it happened. We argued. You are not protecting her by not speaking up, you are protecting him. What if he does this again? After my daughter escaped, he drugged and assaulted a girl. He needs to pay for what he did, even if he was a nice guy before all of this happened.

Thankfully the police found out about both incidents after all of the interviews. It is so terrifying that it could’ve been my daughter.

This is why I worry all of the time…

 

Moral dilemma 4

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This past weekend my son celebrated his 18th birthday. I was probably naive in thinking that absolutely everything was going to go smoothly after his friend sleepover Friday night went pretty well.

Recently my daughter Angel started dating her brother’s friend Dan. It’s complicated because Angel and Dan graduated from high school together and were friends until Angel’s ex boyfriend put the ax to all of her male friends.

Then Dan and Alex started hanging out. They played a song together for solo and ensemble years back. They built a computer together. Alex rode motorcycle with Dan. But then Dan stopped coming over to hang out with Alex.

I was hoping with Dan and Angel dating that they would all be friends. I was hoping for once in their lives that Alex and Angel would get along. But….Alex feels like he lost a friend. Dan is siding with Angel. It started a whole new war in my house.

That takes us back to Saturday night, Alex’s birthday.

Meanwhile, Paul and Arabella sailed to Door County to see a music festival for Father’s Day weekend. The weather was volatile and they had to dodge between storms to get there. It was supposed to be in the 90’s all weekend, but it barely made it up to the 70’s Friday and Saturday. No one on the cruise had proper clothing for the weather.

I made the mistake of inviting Dan and Angel to go to the festival with Alex, his girlfriend, and I. We were going to head up after Angel was done with work. Alex, his girlfriend, and I were going to attend a graduation party until then. It was on the way to the graduation party that Alex told me that he really had a problem with his sister dating his friend. He didn’t want them to go with later in the day.

Now I felt really bad because I asked Angel to come with. Dan was coming to our house after Angel was done working and we would all leave together from there.

Since it was Alex’s birthday and he felt hurt about the relationship, I had to call Angel to tell her that she should not come along with Dan. I felt really torn about making that decision. I don’t like making choices where I have to side with one of my kids. It was awful!

We were at the graduation party when Angel got done with work. Alex and his girlfriend were tubing and I was riding on the boat. It was too noisy to call her so we had to communicate via text which was awful. Maybe you shouldn’t go. It’s your brother’s birthday and he is upset that you are dating his friend.

Alex, his girlfriend, and I met up with Paul and Arabella at the music festival without them. Angel was very upset with me because I invited her and then uninvited her. She sent me texts the whole evening about feeling excluded from the family.

When we got there, it was getting pretty cold out but I had extra warm clothes on the sailboat. What I didn’t realize was that Arabella did not pack any warm clothing and she was wearing mine. I was freezing.

I was also under the misconception that the music festival was outdoors like a fairgrounds where you can listen to music and buy concessions. It was not the case. We walked around to find that later in the day the music was in the bars. You had to pay a $10 cover charge to get in. Everyone hanging out in and around the bars was drunk. It was not what I expected at all.

I didn’t feel comfortable taking Alex’s girlfriend in the bars with us. The whole thing was awful, not what we were expecting at all. So we turned around and drove back home after we found something to eat.

Alex’s birthday was a real dud. Angel was angry with me. Dan felt like we didn’t like or accept him. A lot of it was my fault for having too high of expectations…that the weather would be nice, that the festival would be nice, that my children would magically get along by my daughter dating my son’s friend.

I suppose it could be worse…I have a couple of friends whose moms married their sisters husbands. From what I heard, that really didn’t turn out well.

I always thought it would be nice to be friends with someone that my sibling is dating…

Given some time, maybe Alex will get used to it.

 

 

Fortune cookie wisdom #9

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The sky seems small if it is looked at from the bottom of the well.

Well, that’s deep!

Life is a matter of perspective.

Where did you start?

Do you see things as they really are?

Do you see things like I do?

Was your view obstructed by the wall of the well that surrounds you?

Do you live in murky waters that make the blue sky seem gray?

Even the clearest of waters can distort and refract our reflection.

Maybe the well is dry but you can only see the things around you with tunnel vision.

Does the sky matter? Or are you only concerned with what you are surrounded by?

What do I see when I look down at you? Only a poor reflection of myself?

I shouldn’t judge your views if you see things from a different angle.

I wonder…How did you get inside the well in the first place?

Were you born that way?

Did something push you over the edge?

Did you fall into it unexpectedly?

Are you trying to hide from your demons behind the cool dark walls?

Were you seeking satiation and got trapped in the drink?

What if you need help?

If you are at the bottom of a well, perhaps you have bigger concerns than the size of the sky.

It’s too bad, the sky it a beautiful baby blue today without a cloud.

 

Wine versus exercise in the long run…

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Most of you know me as a thoughtful, serious, worried, borderline depressed individual that has had a difficult past. You would be correct. But I’d like to think I have a sense of humor that balances everything out.

It is the weather, people. Yesterday I ventured out and several random strangers stopped me and asked me when spring is coming. Did they think that I know?? I haven’t had any birds trying to nest in my blonde straw like hair yet, so it might be awhile. I didn’t mention my bad grade in the 8 AM college meteorology class though.

I just looked at the weather forecast for this weekend. We are expecting another foot of snow/ice. I’m going to jump off of a cliff. I had to say that out loud and my cliff diving son gave me suggestions of where to go.

Anyway…I saw a funny plaque a few weeks back that I bought for the bar (remember I live in WI) in my new house. It read and I quote…

Exercise makes you look better naked. So does alcohol. Your choice.

Nice, huh? I was thinking of hanging it up next to my medal display. But, wouldn’t that be tacky??

I’ve seen some debate online lately about exercise and wine drinking for longevity.

A new study says that drinking wine is better for longevity than exercise. Of course I had to make a comment…We’ll see who lives longer. Wait! How will you know I am right?

I didn’t bother reading the stupid article. But my question is this…Where do you draw the line??

How much exercise? How much wine??

Last month I went to a party and my best friend asked a doctor friend if running a marathon was healthy. She said that the jury was still out on that one. Talk about safe answer! As most of you know, I signed up for my 4th marathon. I said I would quit after the first one.

Wait! Does that sound like a problem??

How much wine? A glass a day…a bottle a day?? I know people that do both. Again, where is the line?

I have friends that run marathons and are alcoholics. Will they live forever??

Sometimes I wonder if I should say something about their drinking. Now maybe I should say something about their running too. Honey, the exercise is going to kill you long before the drinking ever will.

I think that most people my age (40’s) truly know almost everything there is to know about themselves. They have had enough time to contemplate their lives. At this stage in the game, I am well aware of my strengths and weaknesses. Most of my friends are probably aware that they drink (or exercise) too much. Is it my place to remind them of that every time I see them? What a buzz kill I would be at the post marathon party.

One of my biggest weaknesses (and strengths) is my critical eye. I love to solve problems. I want to fix things that are broken, i.e. people. I want to be in control over the domain beyond my person. I have a natural tendency to nag, complain, and nit pick. I have no problem providing that service to the people closest to me in my life. But most of the time I find myself biting my tongue. Who am I to play God??

Think about it, you probably don’t need me telling you what you suck at. You probably already know.

I know that some of you think I am crazy for running hours at a time. But running actually makes me feel less crazy.. If you’ve never run a marathon, I don’t think I could explain it to you. If you have, you know. Sometimes physical pain provides a release for emotional pain. It clears the troubled mind.

I have nothing against drinking in moderation (because that is what I do). But I don’t exercise in moderation. I’m even thinking of doing an ultra race which is longer than a marathon.

Is that healthy? Or is it a problem??

We’ll see who lives longer.

 

 

A little green

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Yes, I am Irish. I even know the name of my ancestors that came over from Ireland.

I love corned beef and cabbage, but apparently that is not how the Irish celebrate the holiday according to some WP friends that live there. I even heard that St. Patrick is not a real saint. But I am not here to talk about Irish culture because I haven’t a clue. I know how the people in Wisconsin celebrate. Most people wear green and get drunk. Kind of like a Packer game, but in March. Except this year St. Patrick’s Day fell on a Saturday calling out every drunk, moderate, and light drinker.

First of all, over half of America’s most drunkest cities are in my state. There probably would be more if we had more cities. I live near one of the top 5 drunkest cities in America. I might go as far as to say that I live near one of the drunkest cities in the world…a fact I am not proud of, but it is what it is.

I saw something on Facebook the other day about state motto’s. Ours was something like, ‘It’s too cold to be sober’. Here I sit on the first day of spring and our high temps are not going to be above the freezing point.

This year my friend Lisa was in town for St. Patrick’s Day. Our mutual friend Cori invited me out. I kind of had a hankering for corned beef and cabbage with green beer, so I said yes. We haven’t had the chance to get together for 6 months since Lisa moved away. Apparently, Cori and Lisa started celebrating before going out. Then Lisa said she had a tall margarita on the ride there.

Cori told the waitress that when she saw her finger up she was supposed to bring over 2 beers. It seemed like her finger was up about every 15 minutes. Cori told me that she was worried about her adult son. He drinks too much and has blackouts.

The one thing I respect about Cori is that she never drives drunk. She has been bringing her daughter out with her since she got her driver’s license. This is where I have the moral dilemma. Cori told me this past weekend that she created several fake ID’s to get her daughter into bars. Her daughter doesn’t drink. She drives people home that should never get behind the wheel of a car.

I am torn. I am totally against the whole fake ID thing, having someone in high school hang out at bars…What kind of example is that?? But I am for a safe ride home. It’s not like an Uber is easy to get.

I didn’t stay out late that night. I left before things got too crazy. There was a creepy older man dressed in black that kept coming around checking out the women on the dance floor. A woman tapped my arm and said, “You are beautiful” three times. She was young and had green hair. A wig? For a fleeting moment, I felt happy to hear the words spoken by a stranger that were never spoken by my father. I want to be beautiful forever. I grip onto her words vainly as time slips them back through my fingers. I am afraid to get old. The creepy man’s finger nail scratches my back as he steals by.

As I was leaving the parking lot, I saw the creepy old man leave with the nice girl with green hair. Did they arrive together? I feel sad. Is this her life? Why didn’t I say something kind back?

Late the next morning, I had some errands to run with my daughter. Less than a mile from home, we almost got hit by a drunk driver…probably still drunk from the night before. She swerved from the ditch into our lane…slowly weaving in and out as we pulled aside and watched her parade through.

That is St. Patrick’s Day in Wisconsin.

 

Paul’s journey, part 5

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Despite not having the best (or even good) grades, Paul went off to college after high school. He went because a friend was going and it seemed like a cool thing to do.

Once he got to college, something strange happened to Paul. He became popular. People liked him. He had a lot of friends. He somehow managed to escape the stigma of childhood and started a new life for himself far away from home. He joined a fraternity, participated in hazing, and became part of the wildlife on campus.

Here are few rescue squad stories…

1) There was a wild party at the frat house one night. The house was jam packed with people everywhere. Paul decided to sneak out the back door to run to the bathroom. When he came back, the room was empty and the phone was ringing. He felt like he was in the twilight zone. He answered the phone to find out it was 911 calling about a shooting. What shooting? Apparently there was a man in the front yard with a hole in his cheek from a botched suicide attempt. After the rescue squad arrived, Paul headed down to his room. He found hundreds of under age party goers squeezed into every nook and cranny who thought the party was getting busted.

2) One night a group of college students thought it would be a great idea to take an old canoe sledding down a hill in the icy snow. It was fun at first. Kids piled in and went at break neck speed down the hill. The last group (for obvious reasons) hit a tree on the way down. They flew out of the canoe. One girl had a broken pelvis, another needed plastic surgery on her face. The night ended with another call to the rescue squad.

 

Hanging out with friends and partying meant the world to Paul during his college years.

There was a dark side to this lifestyle…(besides the previously mentioned harebrained ideas).

His first long term girlfriend broke up with him.

His best friend at home became a quadriplegic. Paul wasn’t there that night the rescue squad was called. His friend Dwayne was camping and partying with friends. Now Dwayne would do anything for a dare, especially if he was drinking. Someone dared him to dive off a dock into shallow water. He broke his neck and almost died that night. There was a long grueling recovery. He never walked again and died young.

He flunked out of college. Paul was forced to take a semester off. People thought he was stupid again. He went back home and worked at the cheese factory on the production line with his mother. It was an awful experience, but it proved to be the spark that he needed to get his life back in order and buckle down.

 

 

 

In the cold dark light of the full moon

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It only takes a little light to reflect the cold barren emptiness of a winter tree on the snow.

It has been cold in Wisconsin. The wind chills haven’t been above zero since who knows when..probably a couple of weeks. We haven’t noticed that much. We have been busy with the holidays.

We know the drill. It happens every year. It doesn’t snow when it is bitterly cold. The cars make strange noises when attempting to start. You don’t want to get a car wash or your car doors will freeze shut. Everything creaks, crackles, and moans under the heavy weight of the bitter cold. People die.

People die! I knew it would happen on New Year’s Eve especially. The reports of the deaths. I live in the drunkest state next to one of the drunkest cities in the United States. I predicted that if the Packers were having a better year, the death toll would be higher. The bitter cold usually starts this time of year, but this year it hit us a little early. It started over Christmas…the home Packer game…Christmas weekend and New Year’s Eve…the drunkest time of the year near the drunkest city in the drunkest state. The roads are hazardous not just for the cold, ice, and snow ya know.

Drinking is our culture. It just is. I am a big proponent of designated drivers, but sometimes you can’t trust that will even work. People get carried away. Blame it on the cold harsh climate.

I worried the weekend of New Year’s Eve. My daughter Angel drove to Madison to go to a party with friends. My son was who knows where. Every day I would be in touch asking where he was and what he was doing. Every day my son stopped home and my heart rejoiced that he was alive. It’s not always them I worry about…it is the others on the road. How do I keep them safe? It is surprising that I am letting go at all.

I worry about the drunks on the road. I worry about car trouble in the bitter cold remote areas with no cell reception. Or what if I am sleeping and don’t hear the phone? I worry about car accidents on slippery heavily wooded winding roads.

My deepest fear is that my children will die if I am not in control. If I don’t pay attention, they will be gone. If I don’t notice a problem, they will slip through my fingers forever. It is really rather horrifying since I am not in control. I never was in control even when they were babies. I couldn’t control if they got sick. I couldn’t even control if they decided to sleep through the night. As they got older, the feeling of being out of control grew and festered in my soul.

I try to let go and let God, but then grab the reigns back again chaffing my hands not able to get a grip. This worry, this anxiety, has been a constant thorn in my side. I feel if I let go of my little iota of control, then my children will die and I am responsible. It is completely illogical and irrational as most fears are.

Do all mothers of teenagers feel this way? Or do I just take it to the extreme since I am anxious to begin with? Or maybe having 3 teenagers is enough to set the sanest person over the edge?

The (guilty) party

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A couple of months ago, I shared with you the story of how my son was involved in an underage drinking party at a friend’s cabin. The problem was that his friend wasn’t there. She was supposed to go but got busted with alcohol by her parents before she even left the house. My son, the driver, was sitting with a car full of teens at a gas station waiting for her.

My son received a text stating that she could no longer go. It would have been reasonable to turn around at this point and head towards home. But she told them to go without her. Maybe she would show up later. She also texted them explaining how to get into the cabin if it was locked and where to find the alcohol.

My son, his friends, and a dozen other teens that he didn’t know showed up for the weekend to party. As you can imagine with a cabin full of teenagers without the owner there, there was a general lack of regard for the property. The problem was that the girl’s parents didn’t even own the property, her grandma did.

They left the cabin that weekend with cigarette burns and blood on the carpet, a broken water pump, broken glass, and vulgar images drawn on the wall.

We received a call from the girl’s dad, a friend of a mutual friend, a few days later. We were very upset and had a long conversation with our son about his misdeeds. We grounded him and cooperated with the parents.

This past weekend my husband, son, and a few of his friends had a meeting with this girl’s dad, uncle, and grandma. I did not attend as I was out of town with Angel for her singing competition. I was very anxious about the meeting. I waited by the phone in sheer panic…feeling excited for my daughter and feeling anxious about my son.

When Paul called, he said that the grandma was a very kind lady but spoke sternly about how she felt violated having strangers invade her cabin. She asked my son what happened that weekend and he told her.

They also wanted a total of $4,000 for damages incurred. Paul paid our son’s share. They wanted Alex to collect the money from everyone that was there, but he didn’t know some of the kids. So the group of friends that Alex had there said they would tell the others they knew were there and would have them send the money. So far no one is stepping up and taking responsibility for their kids.

The problem was that no one told their parents about the party except Baylee. One of the guys had a summer job and wanted to pay his share without telling his parents. Trunk boy told his mom and she thought it was some sort of scam. Trunk boy was the guy that rode in the trunk of my son’s car and his mom showed up at our door to complain that my son didn’t give her son enough rides. Trunk boy’s mom is psycho and I don’t want her at my door again.

My son’s girlfriend Baylee’s parents didn’t want to pay either. They said that Baylee didn’t do anything wrong. She didn’t drink. She was simply there to babysit. I believe that is true. My son is such an adrenaline junkie with his cliff diving, motorcycle riding, and other risky things I know nothing about. He is a daredevil and leader. He would be the first to try something stupid or adventurous. He told me that he would tell me someday about everything that he has done, but I really don’t want to know. Baylee is his only voice of reason.

The other friends parents simply won’t be able to afford to pay, especially now during the holiday season. There are some that simply don’t care about doing the right thing.

I don’t think that this family will get the money they want. I would do things so differently. I would start with writing a persuasive letter addressed to the parents of so and so. I would say that I wanted x money by x date. I would include a copy of the police report. I would further state if the money is not received by x date, that they will be hearing from my lawyer which might include criminal charges.

Thankfully my child wasn’t dumb enough to throw a party at his grandma’s cabin. As far as I am concerned, this whole issue is resolved now. I don’t think they will ever get their money, but we paid for our share.

Crossed i’s

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I had every intention of posting another day on my travel log. Although I have been working on it for a few days, it seems to be lacking something. Emotion, perhaps? Oh, I think I will more than make up for it today.

It has been a rough week. I haven’t been sleeping. For every good night of sleep, there are 9 nights of not sleeping well. Maybe if I felt rested things would be easier for me.

I awoke this morning crying. My MIL visited me in a dream. She looked the way she used to, all full of life before the cancer devastated her body. We hugged and said how much we missed each other. Then her husband Darryl started giving me his belongings in the dream and we feared he would commit suicide. It was all rather horrifying and something that we worry about.

Loss is hard. It hurts sometimes to care about other people.

I found out this week that one of my best friends is moving a couple of hours away. This weekend my daughter will be leaving to go back to college. I feel pretty bummed out. I feel a little lost actually.

To make things worse in my life…while I was updating my travel post for the ninetieth time, I received a phone call from a friend of a friend. It wasn’t a social call. It was a call asking what my son was doing this past weekend.

Apparently, my son was going to pick up his daughter to go to her cabin for a party. Her dad busted her with alcohol and grounded her. She told her friends to go ahead without her. So about 20 teens showed up at her family’s cabin, did some hard core underage drinking, and trashed the place.

It didn’t go well confronting my son. We implemented a no staying overnight at friend’s houses policy for a month, a curfew of 10, and he would have to contact the parent to apologize for his part in the party. He was really upset when we told him he also needed to contact his girlfriend’s parents. He was afraid that her parents would make her break up with him. Thankfully for him his girlfriend told her mom about it.

It’s been really hard to concentrate at work with all of the stress and lack of sleep. Next week we have an auditor coming in. We need to make sure all of our t’s are crossed and our i’s are dotted. I feel like I’m crossing my eyes.

We had employees take off this week due to illness or sick kids. I felt a little jealous. Is that sick or what?? Maybe if I was sick I would be able to sleep and be oblivious to the world around me.

Don’t worry…tomorrow I will post about travel. There will be a lot of nice pictures and a lack of nasty little emotions.

Rum Dumb

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Yesterday Paul and I took the day off of work to celebrate Tom and Lisa’s return home on our sailboat. Tom and Lisa moved to Florida for a year and moved back home last week. Unfortunately, Tom had to work and couldn’t attend his welcome home party. Instead, we had in attendance our mutual friends Cori and her husband Randy.

We decided to sail into town for lunch, spirits, and live music. Harv also followed us on his boat. It was our first sail into town for the summer and spirits were high. It was a sunny cool day with strong winds to push us into town. Once Harv and Paul tied up to the dock, they had their customary arrival drink of bourbon on the rocks. The girls and I drank beer. Paul had a little wine. We were enjoying the music, food, and visiting while the people dressed in business attire eyed us enviously. They had to get back to work. Arriving into town on sailboats always makes a splash. Unknown people took our picture. Sometimes we give tours. Once we even invited a couple on board for engagement pictures.

Previously our boat was known by the name of Rhumb Fun before our boat renaming ceremony. In those days, sometimes the boat was nicknamed rum dumb for any idiotic thing (usually alcohol related) that happened aboard. Yesterday, our boat was the rum dumb. Randy had a little too much to drink. Randy had 3/4 bottle of rum too much to drink. He started drinking before 9 AM. Everyone was able to have a drink or two and be fine. Everyone except Randy that is. I have never seen Randy so drunk.

We noticed that Randy was having a bit of a problem an hour before we got back to shore. He started speaking in what he said was a different language. He started saying how Cori doesn’t love him anymore. He started acting infantile making noises like he was blowing raspberries. As we were motoring into harbor, he kept pulling on the jib sheet line screaming, “Make this boat go faster so we can kick Harv’s ass”. Then he stood up and face planted into the side of the boat almost falling overboard.

Talk about three sheets to the wind! Paul and I assisted Randy out of the boat and off the dock. When Paul let go, he almost fell into the water. Every time I tried to let go of him, he started to fall. Finally I was able to stand him up against his car. It was at this time that he decided he had to go to the bathroom right in the middle of the parking lot as people were driving in. “Hey, I don’t even know this guy”! Seriously, the way I grew up nothing embarrasses me anymore. I just hope that we don’t get any complaints or recommendations to change the name of the boat to Rum Dumb.

Like they never saw any drunken sailors before?? Well, that was a first and hopefully a last!!