Treatment Day Twenty-Six 1/2/12

Let me start today's entry by better explaining my current living situation. My apartment is safe and cute (pix below), but only about 400sf. I haven't lived in a space this small since my brief stint with dorm life, and then I had thirty close friends right down the hall. My internet connection only works about 30% of the time (I've given up on Skype altogether). I have one channel that consistently comes in clearly, and it shows an awful lot of Bonanza and I Love Lucy. I'm not a big Western fan and I do not see the comedic brilliance that others seem to find in Lucy. Additionally, the small size of the apartment makes the temperature difficult to regulate, so it's often too hot or too cold.

I share all this to explain how today came to be what it has been. This weekend, I was stir crazy. I've seen many beautiful homes, interesting buildings and historical features like cemetaries and museums here. I've seen enough to last me a while. As mentioned above, my apartment doesn't offer much in the way of entertainment. I've read more in the last month than I have in the previous year combined and I'm losing interest there. I've seen everything Redbox has of interest, and a few things that weren't of interest. I've paid about $1,000 for my living quarters here and had an unexpected $500 car repair, so money is tight, ruling out most other entertainment. 

Today, I was determined to find something to do. I went to treatment as usual, then hopped in the car with no destination in mind. As I was driving, I saw a sign pointing the direction to Kiawah Island and Seabrooke Island. Eureka! In all my time here, I've only been to Folly Beach. I liked it so much I didn't see any point in going elsewhere, but today was a great day to explore a new beach. The weather was mild, and a new beach likely meant a cute new cafe for lunch.

The two islands are beside each other, so heading towards one meant easily seeing them both. The drive there was an odd stretch of trailers and Habitat for Humanity neighborhoods followed by plantations and golf courses. It was easy to see who were the Have's and who the Have-Not's. The highway leading there was covered by trees that trailed Spanish moss, making a lovely tunnel effect.

When it came to a fork in the road, I headed toward Seabrooke Island first. There were signs along the road which read "Drive Gently". I have no idea what that means, but it cracked me up. I soon approached a guard shack (from the only road leading to the island) and was told that the rest of the island was private and I wasn't allowed to go further without a permit. I turned around and headed to Kiawah, only to run into the same situation. So, no beach time for me.

On the drive back (approximately 25 miles one way), I tried to stop at a Habitat for Humanity store, only to learn that it was closed for the holiday. I then found a diner (actually named The Diner) and stopped for lunch. I grabbed a local magazine on my way to my table to see what was happening around town. I should have known better. My two experiences so far with trying to participate in local activities I found in the paper have not been successful.

First, I went to an event called something like "Chicks and Dogs" that was for women and their dogs. I thought it would help with my missing my dog and give me a chance to meet some locals. I apparently didn't read the part about it being a lesbian event. The ladies were welcoming of me, despite my being heterosexual and dogless, but I still felt a little out of place. I'm pretty sure I was hit on, though, so it's good to know I could make it with the ladies if I ever switch teams.

My second venture had been to a Kwanzaa event. It was supposed to include a parade and African drumming and dancing. The African American culture is especially strong in Charleston, so I thought it would be awesome to see and participate in. Unfortunately, I got there (actually, we got there, I had Knoxville friends in town then) and there was nothing going on. It was weird, because there were no signs indicating it was cancelled or moved, but everyone seemed to know it but us. I can only assume that the paper must have gotten the date or location wrong, because it was a virtual ghost town.

I flipped through the paper during lunch looking for anything else of interest. There were enough ads for plastic surgery (Start the New Year with a New You!) that I checked to make sure I hadn't accidentally picked up some kind of surgery sales catalog. Events included the usual meetings (NA, AA, OA, and all the other Anonymouses) and some church concerts. My favorite was a listing for Ladies Night at an "adult" store, offering free samples. I hope you get to take the samples home, and not have to try them in the store.

So, I'm still in Charleston with not a lot to do. I'm working on writing a few articles about my experience, hoping to get published in some local newspapers or magazines. I really want to spread the word about this treatment. As it becomes more known, insurance companies will have more pressure to pay for it. I know it doesn't work for everyone, but for those of us who have had success with it, it's a total life-changer.