I Was Always Such a Great Drunk

Written by Kat Hurley, from The Year of Magical Dreaming

It’s fall. The smell of whiskey and hoppy brews sneak out of the bars and onto the streets to tempt those of us who know just how delicious are the pairing of season and sip.

In year’s past, football would have been enough excuse to grab a beer. Although I could really care less about football, I was always just in it for the beer.

Lately though, I’ve been in this weird transition where somehow the booze don’t quite sooth like they used to. The idea of a drink always seems more fun than actually swallowing it back.

I should clarify, I’ve never been much of a liquor girl, but over the years became a little bit of a beer and wine snob (of the $12 – $24 bottle variety). This time of year I want nothing more than a nut brown ale in an open air bar on a crisp afternoon, or an evening with a spicy shiraz, fire place, and a good book.

This transition is strange because I don’t recognize either face. For what seems like years now, I’ve felt like I’ve been hanging on hard to that old me, the cooler me, the one who could drink all of us under the table.

I was always such a great drunk too. I was mostly staunch about my limits. I rarely threw up. And I knew just the right amount of pizza to Gatorade to ward off even the slightest hangover.

On the flipside, this more zen me, this meditation is my vice, me, I don’t trust either. Does this mean I have to give up all those amazing nights of dancing? Karaoke? Wannabe Britney sexscapades?

I’ve never had a problem with drinking, except in college. Depending on how you look at it though, the only problem was studying, the drinking I mastered, really.

I have no real reason to stop except that the curvy glass isn’t wooing me like she used to. I’m just as charming without her. I’m just as fun. I drive with two eyes instead of one. I wake up with money in my wallet and a clear head. No trace of her on my lips. And not one tear shed.

This likely isn’t forever, more of a for now. I’m just trying the new me on for size, the slimmer, more independent me.

I have yet to meditate anybody under a table.

A girl’s gotta have her goals, right?do essay for me