If I had a million dollars for each man who's hit on me since I've attempted sobriety...
I can't even finish that sentence!
OK, I calculate I'd have 2.5 million dollars. Hah.
Ever wonder about girls who actively look for sugar daddies? I can't really imagine doing that. I suppose you've got to have such low self-esteem, or be so young -- although both pretty much go hand in hand -- that you'd stoop so low as to blow someone just because they have a beautiful house and a hot car. Or so some male members have told me, much to my amazement (naive me). Girlz on the prowl!
Good thing that in spite of my almost three-decades of attempted self-oblivion, I never quite lost sight of me. Never let my feet really get off the ground. (Momentarily, yes. But never for long. And I suppose the lack of real crystal chandeliers, columnades, butlers, maids, chauffeurs, limos, and endless fresh flowers has nothing to do with this innate groundedness I feel. Bah.)
On a more mundate note, I am getting a hair trim tomorrow. One of the best things about not drinking is that everyone slices 10-15 years off my real age. And that's because I'm not pouring toxins down my throat hourly. I thought it was Estée Lauder, but it's a lot simpler than that.