Life is great. I can't complain but I will. Those statements are quickly becoming my Summer 2009 mantra. What am I whining about today? I want drinks. I want happy hour. I want to get kacheery. I want the Lush Life that I've enjoyed in the past. Hah! I realize that life is long gone. It was a crazy carnival ride while it lasted, my misspent youth. And by "youth" I mean all the years between 15 and 41. It was a helluva time.
I drink one beer a day, normally a dark one, as a lactation aid. It's somewhat controversial on whether a single beer a day can help a nursing mom produce more milk but hell, I enjoy it and my baby isn't being harmed. Yes, I could simply take brewer's yeast but what's the fun in that? My lone beer is a gift from Bacchus for being a working mother.
But I'd really love to throw caution to the wind and breastmilk down the drain guilt free and go out on the town for multiple drinks. I'd love to fork over my hard earned dollars and do a shot of Jack, Coke back while waiting for my col'beer to arrive. And repeat that scenario an hour later, preferably in one of my favorite gay bars being served by one of my favorite gay bartenders, the ones who really know the meaning of "cocktail" (nothing dirty, just a beautifully poured drink).
I think back fondly on the days when relaxing after work meant pouring a glass of wine and arranging a plate of cheese and bread or crackers to nibble on while cooking dinner. I'd have a big red or maybe a prosecco with whatever cheese I fancied at the store that week. Nowadays my one beer is usually warm by the time I finish it between nursing Ryder and eating my own dinner.
I've become a beer snob, too. If you can have only one drink you'd make sure it's a good one, no? My favs this summer so far are Breckinridge Vanilla Porter and Shiner Smokehaus, the delightful "smokin' sommer bier" from the folks at the little brewery that could. I go back and forth between the dark & deep porter with the hint of vanilla and the refreshingly bright Helles-style Shiner with the little bit of smokiness.
I want to drink copious amounts of margaritas with my girlfriends on some sunny patio somewhere. Only with our current heat wave make that a sunny yet air conditioned enclosed patio somewhere. And top shelf ritas, please. I'm not wasting my time on cheap tequila. Republic will do me fine and I'll be keeping it local. Patron for shots, of course.
Alas, the Lush Life is no more. Long live the Lush Life! I can't afford to waste my baby's meals by polluting it with alcohol to the point that it's garbage. But I can still dream of the day, 8 months or so ahead in time, when I can call all my friends and squeal "happy hour after work!". I'm sure by then I'll be the cheapest drunk you can find, kinda like junior high was for me. Life is cyclical, right?
And por favor, no e-mails or comments listing the nearest AA meeting. I'm not an alcoholic. I'm just a reformed bar girl who's finding out that forbidden fruit is the sweetest.