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I used to blame it on those freaky albino sisters in the alley. I tried to blame my over-caring parents and a town much smaller than my dreams. I even blamed the bear that chased me up a tree. Either way, I blamed anybody or anything that wasn’t me.My tale begins with the first lukewarm beer. I was thirteen. It was like adding gasoline to an inferno, and my life turned on a dime.Suddenly focused on the ease and comfort alcohol brought, I launched a rocket that was the comedy and tragedy of my early drinking years.Powerlesss is the first book, a story of my drunken fuckups and stupid adventures in the 1970s, my high school years. In those days, all I wanted was to chug as many beers as possible and be the life of every party. And there were lots of parties.I turned group camps and school trips into laugh-out-loud disasters that prompted a visit to the shrink. The doc to my parents: “She’s bi-polar as hell.” And so it began. The Powerless series is a memoir told as a story; a story so twisted that it took seven books to reveal it all. Join my crazy story about getting drunk, getting sober, and the search for grace.