A CUP AND A HALF OF CHEER

I am not that big of a drinker.  By that I mean I don’t consume much alcohol.  Though as a kid my dad lovingly referred to me as “the guzzler”, a descriptive term used to highlight my ability to drink a glass of anything faster than most people.  Water, oj, milk, pop, coffee, tea, it just didn’t matter.  I could and still can drink fast.  But in my defense, I do everything fast – eating, driving, thinking, speaking, working, creating.  My throttle is just stuck wide open. It’s probably a good thing I never have liked feeling drunk or even buzzed. It’s probably a good thing that alcohol tends to burn holes through my stomach lining or I would be a two martini a day gal.  Age and intolerance for the effects of it on my body just don’t allow it.  I do though love the taste, love it going down.  Most mornings I have my cup of coffee finished long before my husband has half of his gone.  The same holds true with eating.  I am long done and waiting at the finish line with a clean plate while he is still talking and eating.  I am going to purposely slow down eating and drinking this week.  They say that we eat less if we eat slowly.  And if we sip something slowly we don’t bombard our system with too much liquid at one time.  I once knew a person who chewed their food 30 times with each bite.  Unbelievable.  It was painful to watch.  And, for a speedster like me, it seemed like a waste of valuable time!   Alcohol does the opposite to me that it does to most people.  It does not make me sleepy but actually makes me wired, unable to go to sleep.  My middle sister can’t handle alcohol at all.  My sisters and I went away for a weekend while I was going through my divorce.  I brought with me a bottle of wine to share with them.  One night in the hotel I poured all three of us a glass.  Diane drank half a glass and soon became so sleepy she could not stay awake.  Not me!  I played solitaire in the bathroom the rest of the night (kidding!).  We have some friends who consume great quantities of adult beverages.  I marvel at; 1) their ability to consume that much alcohol in one evening and still be standing, 2) that they can drink beer, wine, and mixed drinks all at the same time, 3) that their livers are still functioning, 4) the line between drinking and alcoholism.  I realize you build a tolerance for it.  I haven’t really been working to improve my tolerance for it.  Nor do I possess an addictive personality.  One night this past summer I stopped after work to meet my husband and some of his staff for a drink in celebration of one of their birthdays.  I had eaten little that day and decided upon a margarita.  Because it tasted so good, I consumed that drink very quickly reverting back to my“guzzling”  tendency.  They were a bit stronger than normal too.  I ordered another one.  As I am finishing the second one it hits me – that warm, in the tunnel feeling.  You can clearly hear all that is going on around you, but you are almost detached from it in slow motion.  Those two drinks kicked my butt.  To be honest, I don’t really care for that feeling.  Last night my husband had an executive Christmas party.  There were 14 of us milling around one of the country club’s private rooms.  It was beautiful, the food plentiful and the drinks flowed.  Doug and I both ordered a glass of wine.  And, both of us took about an hour to drink our glasses of wine.  As we sat down to eat, the waitress brought both of us another glass.  I whispered to Doug, “I don’t know about you, but this one glass of wine has just kicked my ass!”  He was feeling it too.  Neither of us ventured anywhere near finishing the second glass.  We looked around at the majority who had already consumed 4-6 drinks and were going strong.   I wondered how a few of them drove themselves home, how their digestive tracts handled that many drinks in combination with rich food, and how much money was spent on just the alcohol alone.  The highlight of the night was catching my husband gazing at me across the room as I stood glass of wine in hand, talking to a group of people.  His silent love language with that look said it all.  Later he whispered to me, “You are the most beautiful woman here.  I am so proud you are with me.”   I told him that was the glass of wine talking.