Saturday, March 16, 2013

The Alcohol Diaries: Part 2

Catch up on my previous editions of The Alcohol Diaries here and here.

Day 12: Pretty much every time Adele performs at an awards show, I raise my glass (spilling it everywhere) and shed a drunken tear over how beautiful she is, and how amazing her voice is, and how, if I could have one wish, I would just be her. At this year's Oscars, her performance didn't move me in the least, and that's because I didn't have a glass to raise.

Day 14: Chris decided to have a before-dinner drink tonight, as if we're in the 1960s. I love the 1960s! I want to pretend too! I could even put on my Mad Men earrings and make deviled eggs!

 Photo via Huffington Post
Why can't this be my life?? Side note: I need to take up smoking too.

Day 16: My wisdom tooth started bothering me this week, and it's building to a crescendo. I briefly consider if alcohol would help (though even pain couldn't tempt me from my pious covenant!) but then I realize that pain killers and booze probably don't mix, and if I have to choose, I'm siding with the ibuprofen.

Day 17: We met some out-of-town friends at our favorite depression-era cocktail lounge tonight. I figured this would be the place to go for mocktails since the bartenders are all mixologist virtuosos, and I ended up drinking some sort of coconut blended drink in a hurricane glass and a virgin Roman Holiday. I was pleased with my sober night out, but what was really sobering was the bill: my drinks were $6 each despite being glorified juice!

Day 18: Tonight we checked out a jazz club downtown with a friend and sat at the bar. I asked the bartender if he makes anything nonalcoholic, thinking a jazz club would be similar to a depression-era cocktail lounge in that they could make lots of delicious mocktails. The bartender looked perplexed. "Wow, one's ever asked me that before. Let me think..." he said, before rattling off "coffee, milk, tea, juice..." I stopped him at "juice" and ordered a Shirley Temple "and keep 'em comin'." Our friend was drinking straight whiskey and I longed to do the same. Something about the jazz singers' sultry voices made straight alcohol seem really appealing.

Fourth Official Insight: Drinking alcohol makes me feel old-timey, and I like to feel old-timey. Maybe I could get the same thrill by donning my Mad Men earrings every day?

They're not really Mad Men earrings. I just feel glamorous and retro when I wear them.

Day 19: I wake up feeling hungover. My head aches, my mouth is dry, and my eyes hurt. I think back to the jazz club. Wait, I didn't even drink. Why do I still have a hangover? This happened last year too. I think I just have a Pavlovian response to waking up on weekend mornings.

Fifth Official Insight: Maybe I'm not actually hungover when I think I am, and maybe binge-drinking at 23 isn't actually a billion times worse than binge-drinking at 21. It's all in my head! In fact, I'm going to feel like shit when I wake up no matter what.

Day 22: It doesn't even cross my mind to drink a glass of wine on week nights anymore.

Next up: I don't even get to drink at Chris's birthday party. Womp womp.

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