Don’t be a dick

Don’t be a dick, when you get drunk.

I can live with drunk people getting loud. And they can even get reasonably obnoxious when they’re drunk. (I have one friend who gets very adamant about everything when drunk). But don’t be a dick.

Don’t be the guys who dragged me from my group of friends so they could take a picture with me in my (non-existant) costume, this weekend. Don’t be the guy who ripped the pole out of the fence at 2 in the morning, (Because I promise you, I will pre-emptively kick your ass as fast as possible if you take even a step towards me after that). Don’t be the townie who crashed the con to “find a party dude” and write graffiti on every wall you passed.

Get drunk. Say stupid things. Trip and fall. Have sex with inappropriate people. But don’t be a dick.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!

Kijafa

Adventures in drinking still proceeds slowly.
kijafa.jpgLast week I picked up a bottle of Kijafa. I remember my grandparents drinking this stuff. It’s a Danish cherry wine. Supposedly very sweet. Brought it with me to Cocksucker Tuesday, to share with friends. Mutual consensus seemed to be that it was okay, though not particularly good. But I wasn’t looking for amazing. Was mostly just a nostalgia thing, and general curiosity.
(And, ya know, it’s probably the only wine on earth I could walk into a store and ask for and know what the hell to expect.)
And it wasn’t an unpleasant taste, overall. A sweet, cherry flavor. But still that same harsh, chemical taste that every alcohol I’ve tried so far has given me. They all taste like something I mixed up in 7th grade Chemistry. (Shannon has threatened to make me try Everclear, after those comments).
I will no doubt get used to it. I’m guessing it doesn’t even occur to most people, since they started drinking back when getting drunk was the sole goal, and have long since forgotten the novelty.
People pick on me, for most enjoying “feminine” drinks. They Kijafa and the Apple Caramel Martini. You can see to them that it’s just not ‘right’ for me to be drinking too much of them. It’s just another weird association I simply can’t comprehend. No one thinks it’s girly if I eat a candybar. But if my drink is sweet or sticky or whatever, that is girly? It’s not like I’m going out and asking for Cosmos or something with pink flowers in it. Eh. Something else I’ll ‘learn’ eventually, no doubt.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!

white wine

With great caution and apprehension, I tried some white wine last night. Don’t remember what it was, but I’d been assured white wine was more likely to taste good than red, at this point.
And that’s about it. Aside from the martini, it’s the best thing I’ve tasted so far. Not that it’s “good”, but wasn’t bad, either. Shannon insisted it was very sweet, though that’s got to be relative. The closest comparison I can think of is fruit juice that’s gotten to old. (Okay… that’s basically what wine is, but hey…). A very chemical taste. But not bad.
Still a failure as a lush.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!

Have a drink

I had a few drinks last weekend.
If you’ve been keeping up with our little story here, then you know that this is the first time I’ve ever drank alcohol.
A while ago, I came to a personal realization that it was silly to consciously not drink. While I wasn’t adamantly against it, I was waiting for … something. But that, in my opinion, was just silly. I know there’s no logical argument against drinking. It felt like something that really should just be another thing to try, another experience to have. No more or less important than anything else in life.
Once I decided that, my only real concern was how to go about it. Didn’t want to drink alone. (Not that I could… would have no clue what to try. No frame of reference.) But while I love all my friends, some of them no doubt would have made a big deal out of it. In some cases, that would have been disruptive, and overall, I just didn’t want it.
So the opportunity came up last weekend in Atlanta, with a friend I trust. That first night, I just had a beer, (Newcastle Brown). REALLY not the best thing I’ve ever had. Reminded me of when I tried to drink prune juice. Or as I described it to someone last night: It tasted exactly like beer smells. And when was the last time you realized the other guy in the elevator had been drinking — based on their smell — and had that be a good thing? Finished the whole thing, though. I knew beer would be an acquired taste. But gawd. 🙂
No real effect. Wasn’t really expecting one, especially at my size. But still … paranoia runs strong at a moment like that. Taking that first sip is … weird. It was like there was physical resistance to overcome… it was so ingrained as something not to do.
But all was well.
One or two nights later, when we were up on the Sundial with a group of people, I ordered a Apple Caramel martini, which is what most everyone was drinking. Special for the night, I think. I wasn’t actively hiding it from anyone, but since I was on the outer edge of the group and given the way the bar was set up, I don’t think most people noticed. I’d told my original friend I had to have at least one drink before the weekend was over, that didn’t leave me wanting to wash out my mouth. And it was actually pretty good. Different still. Strong, harsh. But good.
And again… no real effect.
Later that night, a couple of us were sitting around one of the hotel rooms. They’d opened a bottle of red wine. And I stole a sip from a friend’s cup.
The… nastiest… shit… I’ve… EVER… tasted.
My first response was that it tasted like my friend’s feet. And that was before the aftertaste hit, which was worse. Tried another sip a few minutes later. Not getting any better.
*shiver*
Since then, there hasn’t been anything else. I’ve been mostly at home alone, and I don’t feel like drinking by myself. Talked to a couple people about it, and they’ve been pretty open with recommendations. Though, I have a hard time remembering any of it, since — again — I have no frame of reference.
Like I said, there’s been no noticeable, provable effect from any of the drinks so far. My head felt a little fuzzy, but then I’d been up partying for days. And I felt like I was able to talk a little more easily with friends, but that could easily have been relief, or just psychosomatic symptoms.
It was interesting, overall. And fun, as far as the social interaction it’s generated. I want to continue experimenting. But I have no awful cravings. One drink didn’t kill me, mom.
This isn’t exactly general knowledge yet. So how stupid is it writing about it on a blog? Well… my family are probably the biggest readers, and they have to learn sometime. Won’t probably see them for months, so this way is as good as any. And my old friends are bound to think I’m goofy, or just not care, really. The newer friends… I don’t think most of them read this. And if by some miracle they do… it’s not a secret anymore. And it’s too late to make a big deal about the first time. I’m sure the discussions will come. But at least now they can be a little more diffused.
Special thanks to the friend who listened to me ramble about it on-and-off for a few months, who understood, and who laughed at me while I had that first drink.

Just for my reference, some of those discussions and recommendations:

Friend One

Friend 1: Try Guinness or a Hefeweisen next time.
Me: why?
Friend 1: Or Murphy’s Chocolate Stout– that one actually tastes like chocolate milk.
Friend 1: Why which?
Me: was just wondering why those were preferrable
Friend 1: Oh, I think they’re less bitter.
Friend 1: Hefeweisens are light, and usually garnished with orange.
Friend 1: Stouts are smooth and less bite-y.
Friend 1: Keep in mind I tend to *prefer* bitter drinks, so I’m going to have some trouble thinking about them the same way you might.
Friend 1: Anything involving tonic, for example, is high on my list but probably low on yours.
Me: well…
Me: right now, I don’t have much of a list
Me: 🙂
Me: i can see getting used to the beers
Me: the wine may take longer
Friend 1: opt for white wine, srsly.
Me: and the girlydrinks don’t seem to be a problem
Me: okay
Friend 1: Girlydrinks can be problematic for new drinkers, keep in mind, because the taste masks the alcohol content a lot of the time.
Friend 1: Beer is sort of nice to cut your teeth on because the amount of it you can get in your stomach at one time is a limiting factor.
Me: paranoid as I am? 🙂 I’ll keep it in mind, but…
Friend 1: Heh. Drink #2 takes the edge off the paranoia.
Friend 1: Drink #3 kills off hangups
Friend 1: Drink #4 just wants to make friends with drinks #5 and 6.

Friend 2

Friend 2: Wine’s an acquired taste. Red wine is, in my opinion, better with a meal that includes red meat, potatoes, etc.
Friend 2: If it was a dark beer, it might’ve been a porter. They’ve got a bitter edge… wait. a bitter edge, shouldn’t you have taken to it more easily? HA.
Friend 2: I like lagers best, they’ve got brighter flavors usually. Porters are tasty, though; Black Butte from Oregon is quite good, got a little bit of a sweet undercurrent. The only stout I’ve tried is Guinness and I like it well enough.
Friend 2: And like I said: don’t mix your alcohols.
Friend 2: Avoid too much sugary crap, too.
Me: hehe… why… besides looking like a ‘girl’?
Friend 2: excess sugary drinks tend to lead to hangovers
Friend 2: dehydration is, I think, the leading cause for a hangover, but not going crazy with the sugar is a good way to avoid it, too.
Friend 2: If you *are* curious about wines, Gary V.’s got a pretty good thing going with winelibrarytv.com — he’s kind of a nut, but he’s pretty passionate about wine and getting people to find what they like by trying lots of stuff. so the takeaway lesson is: try lots of things.
Friend 2: ALSO. they’re kind of cheesy and lowbrow, but the Arbor Mist wine things? (glorified wine coolers) they have this Blackberry Merlot one. tastes like CANDY! so tasty.
Friend 2: they’re sort of the Hershey’s chocolate bar to a fine wine’s Godiva, if you catch my drift.
Friend 2: Corona’s good, Dos Equis is also good (esp. with mexican food, woot!)
Friend 2: if you’re going to try tequila — I know you have chat histories turned on, so I’m not worried about going too fast here — stay. the. fuck. away. from Cuervo Especial.
Friend 2: I’ve had 2 hangovers in my lifetime and the first one was a result of that swill. oh it’s nasty.
Friend 2: Cazadores: also good. « steeerong.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!

Death and Dying and Really Good Drugs

I’ve been thinking the last few days about hospitals and doctors and mortality and all that.
It kind of freaked me out, and surprised me when I realized last night that in my core family of 4 people, 3 of us had unrelated life-threatening conditions in the last six months. My father was in the hospital for continuing health problems, largely based around his lungs. My mother had several embolisms following a surgery. And around the same time, I also had a pulmonary embolism, though — as far as I know — with much less severe results than my mother. (They actually told her that she nearly died, whereas all they gave me was a syringe full of the good stuff and a bottle to pee in.) So I went to sleep last night thinking that my sister must hate us all, for trying to leave her here by herself. That could have been a seriously bad year for her.
It’s not a particularly bad sign for my family’s genetics or anything. My father has abused his body for decades before it truly started to give out. And my mother’s embolisms were a common side-effect of unrelated surgery. And me… they never did tell if they figured out what caused my problem.
But again, nothing to obsess about. We all came through, leaving us pretty much back where we started. Everybody over the age of 20 worries about losing their parents. But as for myself, I still can’t help but think I’m immortal. I just can’t imagine myself having a drop-dead condition… ever.
*knock on wood*
But this is probably what led me to thinking about doctors and hospitals, while I was showering this morning. And I realized what a truly bad track record I have at GWU Hospital. When I went in with a broken ankle, they were positive I had broken it before, and that all they were seeing on the x-ray was the previous fracture. (I hadn’t, and they weren’t). When i last had fluid in my lungs, they were at first sure the chest pains must have been indigestion. They even gave me that green antacid stuff. Until they finally did the CT scan and found the fluid. And this last time, they were getting mad at me for being in too much pain to lie down for the CT scan. Hello! I had a condition so severe apparently that you wouldn’t even let me stand up to pee! Severe pain under reproducible circumstances… I know you learned about this somewhere! And the second trip to the hospital recently was completely useless except to confirm that no, I didn’t have internal bleeding, and that yes, I realllllllly appreciate Percocet. Everyone was worried I would become addicted to the stuff and abuse it. Never even came close. But lord, was it a god-send when I needed to get anything done.
My complete lack of strong reaction or appreciation for drugs recently kind of makes me wonder about alcohol. Certainly one of the big reasons I never had a drink was because more than one person in my family had an overly-strong appreciation for it. But with the non-reaction to the drugs, I wonder whether I would have any particular reaction to the alcohol. But of course, what still keeps me from drinking isn’t the fear of alcoholism, so much as the momentum. I’m willing to drink, but under what conditions will you allow yourself to have that first drink? Who do you trust yourself around? And where? And when?
I do think to much. Did I mention that?

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!