Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A is for Alcohol

In the past, I've talked about finding a drink that made me seriously consider alcoholism. 

Now to people who have had that in their lives, I realize that's not funny.  Never being a part of that myself, it cracks me up.

Let's see....

There was the hot chocolate w/Godiva liqueur, kahlua, and a dash of cinnamon.

There was the unnaturally refreshing cranberry-and-mint mojito in Vegas that blew me away on a hot summer day.

And at Xmas, I bought myself a bottle of Gingerbread Kahlua. 

Shut. Up. 

Mixing that with some milk (a la White Russian) and I've found myself a new obsession. 

I don't have an addictive personality by nature [she says with nearly roughly $20K worth of yarn in her basement]....

All right, all right.  I'll be more specific...

I don't have a substance abuse personality by nature.  I'm WAY too cheap to be addicted to anything that lasts less than a few hours.  Also, if last year's events didn't send me to a future rehab situation, nothing will.

I don't like wine.  I don't like beer.  I like vodka or rum with juice.  I like sweet stuff like Kahlua, or  Tuaca and eggnog (had once a year at my in-laws annual Xmas Day dinner party).

Ooooh, and Cider.  I really enjoy a good cider.  Angry Orchard makes a really good apple and a stellar Ginger Apple Cider. 

On New Year Eve's, Dave took me to a really nice steak house.  Amazing food!  The manager suggested a pear cider.  As much as I like apple ciders, I LOVE pear ciders.  The brand was one I'd never heard before - Fox Barrel - ohsodelicious!!!

I've tried drugs here and there in my life (future post), but nothing really grabbed me as worth my time.  The same goes for alcohol.   I've done my fair share of drinking (hello, college-and-being-stationed-in-Germany, why yes, I would love a tipple!), but even in my drinkingest days, I rarely took it too far. 

I always loved to go out dancing and quickly discovered that if one is too drunk, one can not dance, one can only fall.  In Germany, I was usually the designated driver on the rare occasions we weren't cabbing somewhere.

I'm not saying I've never been drunk.  I have.  Lots.  I've been drunk enough to puke.  In the way-too-much-information category, the drunkest I've ever been, I tried to pee in a plastic bag.  It didn't go well. 

I used to be able to hold my liquor.  I have a shot glass from Theta Ki at Fresno State that says 100 club.  You do 100 shots in 24 hours.  They told me, "You're a girl, you only have to do 25."  I said, "I'm a woman, I'll do 100."  One hundred shots of tequila in 24 hours.  The trick is to remember one had 24 hours to do it!  Many people try to knock it out and pass out or, you know... die.  I did 3 or 4 shots at the top of the hour, then drank water like crazy and danced like mad to sweat it out.  Rinse, repeat - free shot glass.  Stupid!!

In Germany, they had these tiny bottles that were shaped like the I-dream-of-Genie bottle and were full of a lovely plum schnapps.  Each bottle was about one shot's worth.  We'd turn the little bottle upside down, slam it against the bar a couple of times to make it fizzy, flip it upside, twist the top off, and quaff. 

There was a guy on the rugby team, named Woody that shared my birthday.  On our birthday, we went to the club we all hung out at (The Rock) and he dragged me to the bar and bought two boxes of these tiny bottles.  Twenty bottles a box.  He said, "Happy Birthday!  A box for you, a box for me!"  And we were off to the races.  Woody is a foot taller than me and outweighed me by about 60 pounds.  I matched him bottle for bottle until both boxes were done.

It was one of the few times those guys on the rugby team ever saw me in a dress. It was my birthday, so I wore a dress and some really funky tights and my usual Doc Martin boots.  I was on the dance floor, drunk (cabs that night!), dancing and having a great time.  As often happens at The Rock, a fight broke out on the dance floor.  A guy drew his arm back to punch someone else, and in his draw back, his elbow caught me right at the top of my nose, right between the eyes!  I remember thinking, 'Don't fall.  You're wearing a dress, don't fall.' 

I didn't fall!

Woody and the other guys ran up to me to see if I was OK (and to punch the guy that accidentally hit me).  "Are you all right??"  I said, "Is my nose broken?  If my nose isn't broken, I'm fine."  Woody was a medic and assured me my nose was intact.  I smiled and said, "I'm good then!" and we all started dancing.  The next day, they were all abuzz about at how well I could take a hit and joked about making me actually join the rugby team.

In my drinking days, I'd usually get a good buzz on, then stop.  I've had exactly one hangover (never drinking Jim Beam again).  That's pretty amazing considering how many times I've had too much.  I've never blacked out.  I've driven buzzed exactly twice.  Once in high school and once in the Army.  In high school, I realized how stupid it was and that I  never wanted to risk my beloved Mustang for something so stupid and so easily avoided.  The time when I was in the Army, I didn't realize how bad I was until I started driving.  I lived right off post and was driving from a party on post.  There was no one else on the road so I got myself home.  Not proud of it - definitely not my finest hour. 

Other than that, if you've ever had a few too many with friends, you know, with certain precautions and a modicum of self-control, it can be great fun!

That was all in my twenties.  When I got back from Germany, I never really drank much.  When I got out the Army for good two years after Germany, I stopped pretty much altogether. 

After having kids in my thirties, I am a complete lightweight when it comes to drinking.  I drink maybe once or twice a year, and two drinks has me buzzed enough to stop.  I'm a cheap date!

What's the drunkest you've ever been?

Pouring some Gingerbread Kahlua into some milk, toasting your health and the New Year, and calling it a night, Ruth!