i got your flambe, buddy...

there are many, many reasons why i am difficult to live with (but fun to hang out with, dear reader - never forget that!). learning to live in my abstinence of alcohol has been yet another challenge to my rather fortunate, not-very-challenged-in-the-drinking-department husband, who, confound it, can drink one beer and be done with it.

[yes, i used to envy the "skinny" girls in school, too - why do you ask?]

the trouble with him is that he is a chef and believes that he knows about all things culinary, including cooking with alcohol, and that it is "safe because it cooks out." i can honestly say that while he has been supportive of my attending AA meetings and not picking up, he does not understand it.

at all.

we have had very open discussions that have had the potential to turn into enormous battles, but what has tagged along with my newfound sobriety is the ability to "let it go."

most times.

when it comes to the topic of alcohol in cooking, however, this is one i have not been able to let go because he simply does not "get it."

friday night was a particularly bad one for me, craving-wise. i asked him, in my best "honey, i need your help -- can you help me?" voice, to dump all the liquor in the house (save for his precious Yuengling Lagers which i have no problem having because they are not Cornonas with lime, tyvm). he was more than happy to oblige, but informed me after my meeting that he kept the "Marsala and Medeira wines because i need them for when i make sauces."

the fact that in the 20 years of being with this man that he has only made Chicken Marsala on one occasion has no bearing on the instant matter and means nothing to him (or me, as you will quickly learn). he wanted to hold onto it, "just in case."

i said, "gee, well.....when you make this sauce, please don't expect me to eat any of it."

with that, he rolled his eyes. (oh no, you DI-INT!) oh yes, he did. And the rockets red glare, the bombs bursting in air.....

i lit up like a pan of bananas foster.

this was our second such discussion in a matter of a week's time and i had no patience for the reasoning behind or debating of the issue. he started arguing about how alcohol cooks out of food. i proceeded to explain to him what i learned from reading on the internet about how much alcohol is actually retained and that there is something called a phenomenon of craving, and i could pretty much tell he shut down at this point so i did too.

(just because i am an alcoholic doesn't mean i am mature about everything. it just means i am rigorously honest and pretty freaking stubborn.)

after a rather lengthy silence in the diner as he pored over his menu and i looked out the window, hurt and rejected that he just doesn't. freaking. get. it., i looked at him and asked him if he has done anything at all to learn about my dis-ease? has he, instead of checking sports statistics on the 'net, done any research about what you can do to help yourself while a loved one is in recovery? i was told by a member on saturday that if he doesn't "get it," it is okay because nothing should impede my progress, regardless of whether he "gets it" or not. i understand that, but i seek to be understood.

we ended our dinner peacefully, but i am thinking that i have so much more work to do on myself, i should just let *whatever* go and let God take care of him for me.

(oh, and i helped God [just a little] with what i printed out from the site linked, above, and stuck near his iPod, just in case he needed something to read before he left for work on Saturday...)

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