I Am That Chick You Were Warned About....

I quit drinking all together last year- but in recent weeks, I've found myself out at more bars than I've been to in a year. And it's been fabulous! I remember WHY I loved to go to bars so much- there's drinking, and smoking, and funny people, and entertainment. It's loud, if you don't wanna deal with something, you just pretend you didn't see/hear. I love the ritual, even, of getting ready to go to a bar. You know the whole shower, brush the teeth, actually apply makeup for the first time in months, and make sure you look like you could melt butter thing. It's lovely.

And then, when you get there, it's a matter of finding the people you know, all getting drinks (which sometimes seems to require an act of Congress), and sitting down to scream "what's up?" and listen to some really bad or sometimes really good music, and have a good laugh at no one's expense. Plus, there's a lot of camraderie built when you go out drinking with friends- you learn so many thing about people that you wouldn't otherwise know because alcohol takes the filter away- and no one gives a damn. They just say it. And, upon leaving, you know that you know more about those people you were just with than most do- and maybe even more than you wanted. But, you know them, almost in a Biblical sense, and you've become brothers and sisters in a few short hours- all because you had some drinks together.

The drive home, though, is my absolute favorite step in a night out. I feel accomplished. I went out, I had a good time, and there's still a good buzz in my head. I get into my car, light a cigarette, and turn on something good to listen to. As I travel home, I'm chilled, contented, and I'm also high on an adrenaline rush because I'm trying to slip home like a thief in the night- that is, without getting pulled over. And the thrill that I may get caught is just as important as the nice mellow feeling of being a little drunk and the contentedness that comes with a mission accomplished.
Mind you, I'm travelling to my home, not anyone else's, and I'm by myself. My love of a good private thrill doesn't go so far as to take people home- or to go home with someone else for that matter.
But, I am the girl that likes nothing better than a party. Without it, I find I'm not a very happy person. I don't know whether it's the cumulative experience that makes me feel better or if it's the alcohol, but it does something good to my soul.

Alcohol does, indeed, rip families apart. But I find that it brings mine closer together.