Strange
Day

Adventures in drinking still proceeds slowly.
Last 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.