Lord knows I've put in my time abstaining from alcohol. I was once married to an alcoholic's son who considered the substance most evil and rarely did it enter our home. I didn't care, because it wasn't important to me, and while it still isn't, I've spent just shy of 2 years lifting boundaries and I am not now opposed to the occasional drink.
A year ago today, however, I would have taken a sip of beer and spit it all over the place because I thought it tasted nasty. Nick would buy hard ciders for me to drink socially when everyone else hit the ale, and eventually, just like my coffee that I would take with large amounts of flavored creamer, hard cider was way too sweet for me and I wanted the pure stuff.
This isn't the surprising part. I've proclaimed for years that you can train your taste buds—this from the girl who would only take her vegetables peeled, deep fried, and served in red cardboard adorned with a golden arch. Now, if not for Nick, I would be vegetarian. Honestly, I saw the new Charlotte's Web a few weeks ago and I was crying by the end. I haven't been able to eat pork since, and now have the occasional nightmare that a cute barn animal is looking at me and saying in the most adorable voice, "I don't want to be Christmas dinner!" Anyway, that's neither here nor there. I grew up on a farm, and my father was stern on instituting the order of the food chain...so it's a deep struggle for me.
But, back to beer. I can drink a lot without feeling it. More than Nick, for sure. Not more than Brenda, but she's been practicing longer. Thursday nights, Nick is in a golf league and I spend them with my aunts and, more often than not, we end up chilling at the local pub and laughing with the bartender. Last week, a biker guy sat next to Brenda and talked to her for what seemed like hours. I was introduced as the niece and was thereafter referred to as "Little Niece" as opposed to "Laura". I heard bits and pieces of their conversation as he became increasingly inebriated, and he made a comment when I ordered another beer...my third and final of the night, and the third different type . And, while I couldn't hear exactly what he said, I heard Bren's reply, "She can drink a lot more when she's in the mood."
I remembered that last night as we caught a sort-of happy hour with Jim and the bartender asked if we wanted another pitcher. Nick and Jim told him "no" and I stayed out of it. He persisted, looking pointedly on me, "Maybe a little one?" Defensive, Nick replied, "Yeah, she can put it away!"
You know, it's funny. When I first started this blog, I never would have posted this. "Oh, what will people think!? I drink, I don't abuse it, but what if they think i do?" I was very concerned about what I wrote about and how I portrayed myself...but if I've learned nothing else (I've actually learned more than words can ever say) it's that life is short, judgments are stupid, and so are you if you let what someone else thinks bring you down. In the end you have yourself and your maker. Please the both of you and you win.
