Last night I went to dinner and a meeting with a girlfriend to celebrate her 2 years of sobriety.  She and I have been friends since she came into the program.  Well, sort of since then. Her sponsor is a gal who I have always respected and admired so when she introduced me to G, I thought we would hit it off.  And we did, to a point.  I have always had trouble relating to the women in the program where I live.  It’s just an odd group of women.  And really, I have tried.  A LOT.  But there are  no very few women who are actually fully functioning members of society.  And by fully functioning, I merely mean not sitting on their ass all day complaining about life and not doing a damn thing about it.  Oh, and perhaps holding down a job or raising a family.  You know, basic things in life.  The women up here are annoyingly sadly pathetic.  And they turn every freaking meeting into an al-anon meeting, which is lame.  So often I just want to tell them to shut the fuck up and go to the god damn al anon meeting already, but I restrain myself.  barely.

ANYHOW, last night I went to dinner for my friend and along with her sponsor, she had invited a few other gals in the program as well.  As I was one of the first to show up – even though I was 20 minutes late – I was happy to see normal people in attendance. That was before the bat shit crazy others arrived.  To say my patience was tested is a huge understatement.  I was literally watching the clock the whole time and MY GOD did it move slow.  For some reason, women in the program here feel that they need to be brutally honest about every thing to the point to annoyance and rudeness.  Because, you know, being honest is the way to be, but not when you make people feel like shit.  Like the one gal, who looked at me and said “you know, you are a real miracle, shell.  When I first saw you at that Monday meeting, I took one look at you and knew you weren’t going to last 30 seconds.”  well, fuck you, too.  You don’t even KNOW me.  How dare you judge me.  And for the record, even though I was a mess when I first came in, all outward appearances said the opposite to those who did not know me.  And since I rarely shared at meetings, no one would know what was going on unless they took the time to talk to me, which this lady DID NOT. The dinner proceeded to go downhill from there.  And when the bill came, holy crap batman.  These grown women acted like teenagers trying to figure out the bill.  I hate that.  Just pay your amount, add a bit more for tax and tip, throw in a few extra bucks for those who don’t have enough and be done with it.  At least my food was delicious.

The meeting was fine and since it was a birthday meeting, everyone stuck to the format and it ran nice and smoothly.  And while I did sit with my friend and the others, I was able to ignore them.  But that was probably because the lady I was sitting next to smelled like old lady.  ugh.  Seriously.  What is that smell that old people have?  I know you know what I’m talking about, too.  It’s like a combo of mothballs and bad breath.  eww.  I just wish the meetings here were like the meetings in other cities I’ve been to.  Like in LA.  Those meetings are awesome.  Guess it’s time to find some new ones to try out.  Maybe my attitude will improve.  Just maybe.  heh.