When I re-read several of my latest blogs I realized that I had mentioned drinking in about four or five of them. Anyone out there with an active imagination could possibly get the idea that I have a drinking problem; and that wouldn't be fair. I mean, I actually do have a drinking problem in that I can't drink more than two good shots of anything without crawling into bed with my dog and going to sleep with him wrapped up tightly in my arms. He being part Dachshund prefers to be under the covers at the foot of the bed, and not being squeezed. The Beagle in him tells him to run for the hills, at least I have my faithful pillows in these cases. They never fight back.
Here's the ugly, bald-faced truth about me and my drinking problem. I was about twenty when I decided to have a drink - and it knocked me out. There I was sleeping on the couch of a good friend and I woke up to her reading me stories out of a magazine; I think she thought I was paying attention. She was up walking around holding the neck of the bottle, and it may have been a second bottle in fact, but I was only able to open my eyes half way and I was thinking about becoming intimate with the toilet...after ONE lousy tequila shot.
It has improved, I can do two now. I'm older, I have built up my resistance, and let me tell you - if I've had something to eat I can think, yes think about doing a third glass of wine but that's as far as it goes. My mind can entertain my body, my spirit can use up all the images I can conjure and I am the life of any party whatsoever as long as I'm tossing back something that hasn't been fermented. I can apple juice the best of them, and when it comes to 100% white grape juice...no one holds more than me. Don't even give that look kid, I will nail you to the floor with my ability to put back the fruit.
So, when I say I cook with wine, or I drink when I dance, or even that I grab a bottle of rum and write - that is EXACTLY what I'm doing....writing while holding the neck of a bottle that may be full but I'm not able to empty it. I can dream. I can think. I can pretend, I can even act - - I just can't actually drink it because the ink in my pen starts to wander off and I find myself curled up with the dog again; waking up to friends laughing at me for being such a wussy. Hey, I didn't make me. I just experimented to the point that I realize through trial and error (mostly error) where I am, who I am, what I can and what I cannot do. At least I'm honest. (Oh, but I'm bold in my writing aren't I? Hardcore, tough, on the edge, and over the top friend.) I'm...I'm...a lightweight.
Now beer, that's another story. I can't do one without putting it down because of taste. I reserve the right to have as many 1/2 beers as I can take - after 1/2 I'm looking for something to get that taste out of my mouth fast. Beer is for boys; that's my new motto. Beer is for boys!