Wine and whiskey on the carpet at Thanksgiving? No worries. I’ll be too drunk to care! Photo: Philip Serracino Inglott via Wikimedia
This WSJ article notes that alcohol hits people harder in their 40s harder than it does us youngsters because aging decreases muscle mass, the water in the body and the enzyme that breaks down alcohol. I argue this happens sooner, as I’m totally feeling the effects the first few months into my 30s.
I used to be able to party on Campus Corner, go to bed at 3 a.m., then pop back up in enough time to adequately dress myself in black slacks and a blouse in order to be at work at 9:30. All I needed to perk back up was a large lemonade from Chick-Fil-A. No food, Ensure, or Pedialyte needed. Some days, I’d wake up, only to turn over and drink the rest of the Budweiser left in the can that managed to stay upright on my nightstand.
Those times, sadly and responsibly, are behind me now. Meaning, I’ve got to save my drunkenness for important times. Times when I’ll get maximum exposure. Times like holiday family gatherings. I should stop the pretending and accept my induction into the Drunken Auntie Club. I’ve already envisioned myself at Thanksgiving doing a tipsy jig to Al Green on the Old School R&B station on Pandora and insisting all of the kids “Come give me some shuga!” in my best Auntie voice as I slosh an amber-colored drink called ‘This is for Grown Folks’ on the floor.
Ah, how loved I’ll feel when my mother and sister glare at me through slits that used to be bright, approving eyes. The sense of accomplishment that will fill my heart when my younger brothers declare to their friends, “my big sister is embarrassing.” And, the giddy joyous giggles that will overtake me right after the whiskey does. * Insert dreamy sigh *
I’m ready. Let me take notes from Mariah Carey and prepare my tipsy acceptance speech.
