I had a new friend, with mucho knowledge of the blogging scene, (way before everyone blogged about their grocery lists and how well little Skippy did at soccer practice) tell me (somewhat jokingly) that if the site were renamed I Hate Recovery and I wrote as Amy Winehouse instead of Amy aka SassySoberGirl … the site could get “A LOT” more hits.  After I spit out my 32 oz. Monster on the monitor from laughter, I had a real “think tank” about this. And as much as I have visions of going viral, just for the simple fact that I dig blogging, I laughed to myself and thought Nah. There’s too much skepticism in the world. Cynicism has become the new cool. Sarcasm the new humor. Snarky is the new sexy.

This is not all a bad thing. Ask my facebook chums and they’ll tell you I bring my own special brand of sweet cyni-skepticality to my everyday internet interactions.  However … when it comes to the recovery process I follow a basic philosophy.  Be optimistically positive and all that that … entails. Now I’m not talking some Pippy Longstocking Pig Tailed wide-eyed gullible always smiling ditzy never dark or crying – cockamamie crap.  Positive in the way that whether the glass is half empty or half full … the idea that there is a glass at all is amazing in and of itself.  I believe the book that is blue (yes that one) states in discussing the fourth step states on page 66 and 67 …

• If we were to live, we had to be free from anger. The grouch and the brainstorm were not for us. They may be the dubious luxury of normal men, but for alcoholics these things are poison…
• This was our course: We realized that the people who wronged us were perhaps spiritually sick. Though we did not like their symptoms and the way these disturbed us, they, like ourselves, were sick too. We asked God to help us show them the same tolerance, pity, and patience we would cheerfully grant a sick friend. When a person offended we said to ourselves, “This is a sick man. How can I be helpful to him? God save me from being angry. Thy will be done.”
• We avoid retaliation or argument. We wouldn’t treat sick people that way. If we do, we destroy our chance of being helpful. We cannot be helpful to all people, but at least God will show us how to take a kindly and tolerant view of each and every one.

(as always God is defined by yours truly as whatever you need it to be. I’m sooo not a religious gal.  Use great spirit, allah, buddha, a dishtowel, collective unconscious, 12 step groups, or your great Uncle Al with the weird mustache. Spiritual sluttism is always win.)

Hmm.  I had to look up the word grouch because all I could see in my transient minds eye was a green muppet in a garbage can.  Of course my favorite Sesame Street character.  So my friend Merriam whispered the definition to me  — grouch (intransitive verb) :

1. a : a fit of bad temper b : grudge, complaint
2. a habitually irritable or complaining person : grumbler

Somewhere. Someday. Somehow. Someone will appreciate the ultimate non dark, lack of mysterious, sunny side up, dippy egged, easy laughter and pigtails … that is me.

I found out … they do. I do. It does. (huh?) A little sunny in the disposition never hurt a girl. Positive. NOT a dirty word. Goth and Emo are so last year.  So I’ve thrown away my black fingernail polish (never the eyeliner though … as if) and I’mma simply stay congruent to who I am.  As I cogently tell myself over and over, Amy you don’t do grouchy well at all.  Good thing.