Day 26

Tonight my dad made corned beef and cabbage for dinner, with Key Lime Pie for dessert. Then, because I was in attendance and am the pickiest eater imaginable, he also made peas and rolls, with sugar cookies for dessert. For the record, I did eat some corned beef, but I wasn't touching the cabbage. Uh-uh. But! Like he does every Sunday, my dad fixed me a vodka cranberry, today in one of the red Solo cups he found an excess of in my Grandma's pantry. He teases me and calls me a lush but keeps juice and a big bottle of vodka just for me.

I find alcohol fascinating! Mixed drinks make me think of Professor Snape's Potions classes in Harry Potter- mixing powerful liquids to find the desired result! I read in a book once that cocktails came out of Prohibition, when the alcohol you could get your hands on was awful and terrible quality so they started mixing in different things to make the drink more tolerable. 

I didn't always like alcohol though. One fateful day, long ago, I sat on my mom's lap at the kitchen table. She was drinking a beer and I was indulging in a little milk.Well! Imagine my surprise and disgust when I took a massive swig from the wrong container! I remember gagging and retching and swearing off beer for the entirety of my lifetime. You want to know something though? I still hate beer. Vodka's great, tequila's nice, and bourbon's tasty, and ever since I a shot of it in Italy, I've got a soft spot for Limoncello but beer? HELL NO! Just... ughhhh. Shudder inducing. The closest thing I'll drink is apple ale.  

When my sister and I last traveled out to Tulsa, my aunt and uncle took us to an amazing bar called "Valkyrie" and I got to try.. ABSINTHE! Well, an absinthe cocktail. Pretty good, with just a little bit of a spicy bite to it.

You know the funny thing? When all my peers were partying in high school, I never partook. Not interested, hell, not invited! I just wasn't cool like that. For that matter, you wanna know something else? Aside from my doctor-prescribed meds and cold medicines and the like, I've never done drugs. Not once! And when I tell people that, they laugh and don't believe me. But it's true.

And I couldn't care less. It's just not my thing! 

Once, a long time ago in Arby's, I was eating with my sister and this guy came up to me, really shifty-looking.

"Hey," he murmured.
"Hiiiiiii," I said, perplexed.

"You know where," he cleared his throat, "where I can get some herb?"

"Beg pardon?" I squeaked.

My sister rolled her eyes. "No," she told the guy, "we don't, sorry."

And it wasn't til later that she told me what the hell "herb" is, and I felt terribly lame.

And that's all that's on my mind today. Aside from my refrigerator door opening itself occasionally, and the upcoming memorial service for my Grandma, for which my sister loaned me a really nice dress. 

MONDAY tomorrow...

Sarah