Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Loved the comment the other day by Anna Fricke about how people's drink selections define them as much as anything else. Drinks are sometimes who we are, sometimes who we want to be, and sometimes our downfall. I have a deep love of champagne; it doesn't give me a hangover and fits with Lord Byron's instructions regarding what women should consume in public -- the only other thing is lobster. I've often felt bad about hating wine since it is the quintessential grown-up drink. But I can't bring myself to drink it, not red or white. I've learned to like beer; women who like men often find themselves in this position. I'm a fan of the great Texas beer, Shinerbock. There's a bar in Ft. Worth called Beer Magic; I like to joke that beer magic is simple -- if you have it, men appear.
For every long relationship I've had, there's a spirit involved that reminds me of the man -- so far, I've managed to ruin or reminiscence fondly on gin, scotch, and tequila. I suspect there might be men who like more exotic liquors, but I'm probably not destined for them in this life. My first husband made himself sick on Thunderbird, alas illustrating the dangers of marrying young. I enjoy Bloody Marys, Mimosas, all sorts of potions. They all say and promise things that they don't really deliver. But it's when you stop caring what you put in your mouth or what comes out of it that you're in trouble.
Michelle's Spell of the Day
"Don't bother trying to join the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. It turns out they're apparently against all three." Wiley
Drinking gin and tonic video tomorrow!
Benedictions and Maledictions