For the last year and a half or so I’ve been pretty damn sober. Granted, for a good year of that I was either pregnant or breastfeeding, so alcohol was a big no-no and despite my mother-in-law suggesting that wine might somehow help me produce more milk, I imagined a drunken baby and decided against it. Although I don’t really like wine anyway, so it wasn’t any sort of hardship to turn down her offers.
I’ve actually never been much of a real drinker. I can’t help it. Aside from my college days (and the few years directly after when oddly I drank way more than I ever did in actual college), I’ve never been one to pack away the alcohol. I attribute this mostly to the fact that the only real drinks I like are generally so sugary that more than two of them makes me tummy ache. Unlike many of my friends, the thought of a beer on a hot day never sounds good. I don’t want to sit around sipping on bourbon and Coke because, well, it doesn’t taste good. A glass of wine poured for me at dinner always gets finished off by my husband. It’s not that I don’t like the effects of alcohol; it’s just that the taste is not one I’ve acquired.
It probably doesn’t help things that when I went on the big diet a few years ago, I realized just how many calories alcohol has, so it became a forbidden substance. Unlike Diet Dr. Pepper, there is no margarita lite that still gives me most of the same great taste with no calories. Ever since, I drink on special ocassions like my birthday or big parties, but for the most part, I stick to water and diet Coke. Seeing me drink is actually such a rarity that when we were overseas and my in-laws were buying, my mother-in-law actually made multiple comments about how I obviously wasn’t pregnant and that maybe I wasn’t a tee-totaler after all. I just smiled.
Tonight though, we went out for Mexican food. As part of a promotion for a fairly new place, they had $1.99 frozen margaritas. How could I pass that up? I had one and my head was spinning. I don’t know if it was not drinking in almost a year and a half or a sign I’m getting older, but one cheap ol’ margarita made the room start spinning a bit. Well, if not spinning, at least made things seem sort of slow like trying to move through water. I was blissfully happy I didn’t have to drive because when I went to stand up, I had to focus and steady myself.
My words had that slight slur to them and I started bringing up odd things like my amusement with the Steak N’ Shake sign that said, “Halloween milkshakes lurk within.” Here it is over an hour later and I still feel that sweet little buzz of alcohol corsing through my body.
I’m not sure there is a point to all of this. I’m tipsy and so I’m guessing there doesn’t really have to be. I probably shouldn’t have polished off that big fatty meal with an extra dose of alcoholic calories, but man, the frosty sweetness of lime and tequila were just so tasty tonight.