Sometimes I believe that I was born into ignorant bliss, a long descendant progeny of people pretending to be things they're not. A child of nature belonging to people who wore a smile although their world was crumbling around them. Other times I think that these things were done to me, that I'm simply a product of the injustice I've endured. That maybe those demons I speak of are just haunted remnants of a previous life, rather than wounds that others can see. They come and find me late at night when my mind is still.
No matter where these proverbial demons come from, no matter how deep seated they are, and no matter who may be involved, they sting like a venereal disease. (... not that I would know.) And quite frankly, I only see one true solution. In my crazy lady brain, there remains to be only one, solid resolution. Only one way out of said treachery.
Alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol. To numb my weary brain.
It's why the Irish invented whiskey. It's why Winston Churchill was such a successful prime minister. It's why people go out for happy hours with their friends and co-workers. It's why Italians always bring wine to dinner. I mean, the word whiskey literally means "water of life". How can you refuse to back something so grand that it was as valuable as gold in frontier country? Something proven to prevent cancer, lower your risk of stroke and reduce the development of heart disease?! (Seriously, look up that shit on BuzzFeed. It's insanely informative.) Friends, I am living proof of its wonder, of its ability to heal!
Sometimes when you're drunk you can see better. -Damien Hirst
I remember once, a very, very long time ago, long before I was married, I was on the cusp of breaking up with this boy I had been with for years. The reality of it was that I had put up with his bullshit for far too long. I was really torn on what to do (... oddly enough, right? Me? Indecisive? Never!, she said pretty sarcastically...) because I loved this boy. (Or at least I thought I did?) But he was terrible to me. (Or maybe I had just misconstrued his behavior?) And he had cheated on me with my best friend. (Maybe it was somehow my fault? Maybe I had pushed him into her arms?) But we had all the same friends! (Shit, I could make new ones. Come on, it's me.) I was practically part of his family! (Let's be real. Once you've seen one boisterous, Italian family from New Jersey, you've seen them all.)
[Imagine this in every aspect of my life. Now you see why I don't sleep.]
Anyway, the point is, I was deliberating this with an old friend of mine. We were sharing a bottle of VO because I was too poor back then to buy Jameson with my ever active drinking habit. I was rambling on about my idiot boyfriend, asking my friend for some sound manly advice. Usually, he'd mumble something like, "Kate, whaddya worried about? The guy is a certifiable douchebag." But this time was different. He grabbed my glass, filled it with cheap whiskey and nudge it towards me with his index finger. Because we had grown up together, become like brother and sister, I rolled my eyes and started rambling again. "No," he held his finger to his lips, "no more neuroses. Just drink your whiskey and let's think on it."
When we were roommates, there were times when we actually lost weight because we were too poor for groceries. But we always had three types of liquor in our fridge. Whiskey. Vodka. Rum. The cheapest our town liquor story carried. Except for the random weeks we had extra money and my roommate would splurge on his Captain...
It's like that Terri Clark song, "I Think the World Needs a Drink"...? Like maybe if we took two seconds to sip our cheap whiskey and ponder our life's decisions, they wouldn't seem so goddamn dreadful. Maybe it gives some of us the power to think with a clear head.
An intelligent man is sometimes forced to be drunk to spend time with his fools. -Ernest Hemingway
But while in some cases a moderate amount of alcohol may pacify and produce a vision of clarity, there are others where your problems may seem all the more amplified. Those demons may not disappear no matter how intoxicated you become and they'll be right there waiting for you in the morning when you sober up. The empty handles in your half wrecked kitchen become reminders of what you tried to escape. The party has ended, your hangover is unruly and your dilemma is still engaged. Aspirin and a clean slate seem like distant, teasing miracles and despite it all, you'd murder your own grandmother for another whisk of booze.
And the problem isn't the booze, friends. Sometimes it's the courage it produces. I could literally fill a book the length of J.R.R. Tolkien novel with all the idiot mistakes I've made under the influence. And I'm not talking about stiffing Chili's on their bar tab kind of haphazard accidents. I'm talking about huge, colossal, monumentally life altering mistakes. I only wish I was embellishing.
One of my favorite quotes from the adult cartoon Archer is, "I AM drunk. Or I wouldn't be talking to you." They aren't just pretty words. I can identify with that one hundred percent. When I was single, there were so many times when I was completely surrounded by idiots doing idiot things because they were idiots. And I just sat there. I just sat there, sipped my drink, tapped my red, patent leather Jessica Simpson pumps and blinked my Dior glossed eyelashes. Like I was getting paid to be there. Like my enormous and shapely rear end was somehow glued to my bar stool. Because I was too inebriated to care or suggest that they go away.
I was too far invested in my bottle of whiskey to admit that just the sight of any proverbial idiot man child was pissing me off. That their jokes weren't really that funny at all. And as a matter of fact, they were downright terrible. That they had some weird black food particle stuck between their two front teeth and I couldn't stop staring at it. That I wasn't gazing, I was gaping at the fool who had barbecue residue in his teeth for the last hour and had never even realized it. That when they spat out things like, "Kate, I'm not an asshole," I literally almost did a spit take in their face because hello?! That's the very first thing that assholes say! That their self deprecation started out as mildly charming but now it was bordering on annoying. Like, okay. I get it. You clearly suck at life. What gave it away? The fact that you borrowed the restroom three times and never bothered to check your goddamn teeth?!
If it's even remotely possible, to this day, I find that when I drink, I am even more forgiving than normal. Way more tolerant of bullshit. That as crazy as it sounds, I am actually more apt to endure even the most obvious of idiots. Maybe it's the numb brain that maximizes my patience and prevents my typical sarcastic quips. On the contrary, I sit there with a genuine smile, thinking to myself, "... is this fucker for real?" I should just say to them, "As a matter of fact, I AM drunk, you pestilent piece of shit, or I most certainly wouldn't be talking to you."
Moral of the Crazy: Now, don't misunderstand. I'm not saying run out there and drink all your stresses away because obviously that doesn't work. (RIP to my home girl, Amy Winehouse) I'm not saying that alcohol makes people more tolerable because honestly sometimes, it does the exact opposite. Sometimes no matter how much Jameson you destroy, those people are still utterly unbearable. And sometimes, the people drinking the alcohol develop these cute little quirks when they're drunk that turn out to be super annoying. Personally, I shamelessly repeat myself. (It's terrible...) Drunk or not, but allegedly, it's much worse when I'm drinking heavily...
Drinking can be dangerous, especially when you're forced to engage with people who have food stuck in their teeth. So do it wisely and in moderation. (I mean, let's be real. No one specified glass size. They just said "in moderation"...) And it obviously goes without saying but two things: Always flash your smile in the mirror when you use the restroom and protect yourself. Only drink Irish whiskey and Italian wine.
I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly. -Winston Churchill
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