HOW TO SURVIVE AN ALCOHOLIC MOTHER (WITHOUT HIDING UNDER THE BED)

HOW TO SURVIVE AN ALCOHOLIC MOTHER (WITHOUT HIDING UNDER THE BED)

They say your childhood has to last a lifetime.  If that's true, I'm in a world of hurt. My mom was an alcoholic.  Not the kind who gets sleepy, funny, philosophical, weepy, or syrupy (we all know that last type: "I love you, man!").  My mom just got mean.  Evil mean.  So mean that she actually flunked out of the acclaimed Hazelden 30-day inpatient alcohol rehab program and bragged about it.  The counselors were probably scared of her.  Everyone else was.  Even the dog.

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A TREEHOUSE, A RUM SHACK, AND BARBADOS BLISS

A TREEHOUSE, A RUM SHACK, AND BARBADOS BLISS

We bought fresh fruit from roadside stalls, ate lunch along the cliffs, and marveled at the surfers riding giant turquoise waves.  "Ghost roads" led us through abandoned sugar cane fields.  Then, one afternoon Duncan and I found ourselves helplessly lost, and we ended up in a spot we'll never forget.  It was traveler nirvana...

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DISASTER AT THE SPA (A/K/A AN UNEXPECTED VISIT FROM EURUS)

DISASTER AT THE SPA   (A/K/A AN UNEXPECTED VISIT FROM EURUS)

Then, as I settled onto the massage table, face down, tucked snuggly under the luxurious linens and cozy silk blankets, disaster hit.  I had an unexpected visit from Eurus, the god of wind.  Not just wind, but unlucky wind.  The kind of wind you never want to experience in a small, enclosed room with a complete stranger...

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