Luck of the Irish

This Week on Diary of a Sober Girl

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I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful for the good memories, for my family, that TIm is home from London. I’m grateful for my friends and being able to celebrate them. I’m grateful for AA, for our new home, for my sponsor, for my happy pup. I’m grateful for the flowers on the island, to feel okay, and to know that the bad things will pass.

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Hey friends! Hope everyone had a lovely weekend as always (: 

I’m not sure what to write about today. Being that it’s St. Patty’s I should probably write about that but I gotta be honest guys - I am Sicilian, Russian, Polish, Dutch, a little bit of German and Scottish and not a lick of Irish. Can’t tell yah that this is a holiday I went hard for BUT I do think it’s cool they make the river green in Chicago…any Chicago locals here? 

BECAUSE I am writing to you all on this lucky day I am obliged to remind everyone Irish or not, no one has to drink today. It’s really just another day and I promise no luck of the Irish is worth going out for. The day will pass like all the other’s and while everyone else will be waking up hungover on Tuesday we will not and if that’s all that gets you through today that’s fine by me. Who wants to crawl to work feeling like their stomach is in their throat and their head is on a swivel. Not worth it!! 

I happened to spend this morning at the DMV of all places surrendering my NJ license in exchange for a NY license and again I gotta be honest I’m a little sad. If anyone questioned my New Yorkerness I would be very upset…I’ve been here for SEVEN YEARS that’s a long time and I’m definitely a New Yorker but… I grew up in New Jersey. The sweet old Jersey Shore & not the Jersey Shore of the show but the shore of ‘local summer’ in May and September. Late night drives to the beach, Stay Gold my favorite coffee shop on the corner of 10th Ave & Main Street (regrettably now closed). Walks to the Shark River where we could walk SO far out when the tide was low. The Monmouth County fair, the Fireman’s fair, visiting my dad after class when I had dual enrollment my senior year of high school. Ah senior year, when my drinking wasn’t great but I was still just a kid (definitely an alcoholic then but pre NYC clubs, promoters, falling in trash on the sidewalk alcoholism). 

The winter before my friend L. died we went back into the woods and ‘sledded’ down the very very small hills. My dad taught me how to drive in the Camp Evans parking lot. We used to go to flea markets at Allaire State Park which is  ALSO where I took photos ( as a second shooter) at one of my very first weddings. I ‘ran away from home’ on my little pink scooter and was headed to my nana’s house in Shark River before my parents came and stopped me. 

I used to struggle with how I love New Jersey but I also love New York. I love rock but I also love country. I love the beach but I also love the mountains in Arizona. It all felt very conflicting like I couldn’t love two opposites at once. 

But now I understand I love New Jersey AND I love New York. I love Tool AND I love Tim McGraw. I love Ocean Ave AND I love CamelBack. All of those things make me who I am. The emotional alcoholic who loves and cares with my entire heart, who wears her feelings right on her sleeve (you actually can tell exactly how I’m feeling just by looking at me but whatever). 

So I guess you can call me officially officially a New Yorker. But New Jersey will always be in my heart. Along with everything else that makes me, me. And that’s not conflicting at all, it’s actually quite beautiful. 

So happy St. Patrick’s to all my Irish and non Irish folks alike, I hope you have a beautiful, green, sober day. 

xx  

Jane