My Maserati Goes 185*

My good friend (hi Jenn!) and I were talking about addiction yesterday. Before I go any further, I suppose I should say that I don't drink, smoke or do drugs. That's not to say I have always been such an angel. After all, everything has a time and a place and for me that was college. For me, college was five years – yes, it took me an extra year – of too much fun and not enough studying. I can honestly say I never applied myself once. Not a single time. I always just breezed by, even if it was with a C, I just didn't care. I did what I had to do to finish up – and not a thing more. All that NOT caring left a lot of room for other extracurricular activities. And boy, let me tell you, I was what you would consider "committed" to those out-of-classroom endeavors.

Not only was I self-destructive, but also I was also very, very good at bringing company on my road trip to drunken revelry. Many a good roommate has woken up the morning after wondering: "What the hell did I do last night?" And I would always say, "I don't know, but we go get my film developed I bet we can figure it." Then a stop at the one-hour-photo later we're sitting in the parking lot saying things like:

"When did we drive to the beach?"

"Who's that guy in the sombrero?"

"Why did I take my pants off?"

You get the idea. We were fun, young and completely stupid. I was almost always the instigator, though I prefer to think of myself as the "events coordinator." And trust me, as such I was very dedicated to my work. Documentary evidence supports these statements. I give you myself and Tree with the once quazi-famed rapper Afroman:

Now you look at that picture – us with wet hair and squinty eyes -- and tell me if you think anything good could have possibly came from the activities that let up to that snapshot.

Lucky for my moral soul, I met my husband five years ago and settled down considerably. He was the straight arrow and I was an apple sitting onto of the assistant's head – once he pierced me that was it. I was suddenly still, unexpectedly calm. I felt like the thirst from a lifetime of restlessness was suddenly quenched. When those things inside me were relaxed, I no longer felt the need to burn a hole through every bar in the world. My needs shifted in ways I never knew were possible. I think all those years of being rowdy and tanked were my trying to fill up a space inside of me that felt so utterly empty. Something was missing. For some people I think its having a purpose. For others it's religion or work or children. For me it was having someone who understood me on every level – and actually liked what he saw.

This might be a load of shit – but I truly believe that most sane people engage in certain types of behavior for a reason. I don't think I partied like it was 1999 just because I liked getting loaded and puking in the bushes (hi Megan!). I think there was something missing and that lifestyle fulfilled it to a certain extent. You see, I come from a long line of people with addictive personalities. And, well, you can't exactly swim too far out of the gene pool, if you know what I mean.

Even now that I don't have to fill that personal void, there are other things I compensate for. Now this is going to come as a gigantic bit of irony to everyone who knew me when I was a student, but I am something of a workaholic. The husband and I were discussing this last night. I was telling him that I dedicate 110 percent of myself to my professional endeavors. I'm fiercely loyal. I make sure things are done correctly and if they aren't working right, then make sure they are fixed. Even if it happens during a personal trip, Christmas dinner or a hurricane evacuation. I don't work 9 to 5. I work 7:30 to 4, then when I get home I work some more. Don't misunderstand this. I'm no martyr. I do what I do because I love it and because I'm pretty darn good at it.

This is just such a change for me. I used to be focused on other things – I was more self-oriented, I suppose. Now I don't take care of the personal needs I should in favor of being devoted to work or family or friends. I'm very, very bad at addressing problems within myself. It seems that I am the one thing I can't seem to fix. And for someone who is problem solver by nature, this is VERY hard to come to terms with. So I don't. I just distract myself instead. Eventually distraction morphs into its stoned older cousin – addiction. My current addiction of choice is food and books. Sometimes enjoy these activities together, but they are not mutually exclusive. It's as simple as I like to eat and read, and I do both equally well. I read about three books a week, which gets expensive when you think about what the average book costs. That's like $1800 a year on books. ON BOOKS!

And what about the food? Well, I refuse to even attempt to calculate the amount of money that I have spent on various forms of chocolate.

That old saying is true: Men, chocolate and wine -- some thing are just better rich.


*Bonus points if you got the title. And, yes. Life's been good to me so far.