Romancing the Drink


I have an entire series of blurry, “Bright Lights Big City” photos of this night – I have no idea who took them, but they are PERFECT depictions…


More and more I am inspired by readers who write to me with comments and suggestions.  Some of their musings are pure poetry…  I try to read every comment with an open mind, and sometimes a word or phrase will stay in my head and become the seed for a new blog post.

Yesterday I got this comment from Kristen:

I am not responsible for the first thought, but I am for the second. I don’t “romance the drink” – I don’t linger on the smells, sounds or tastes of my addiction. I focus on today, recovery, not yesterday.

First, isn’t this a gorgeous passage? And second, it was in response to a post I wrote describing the smells, sounds and tastes of my old buddy white wine.  I am a sucker for great writing (and a good salesman).  In fact, intelligence tests have shown I only listen and learn if I am captivated by the teacher…

The seed was planted.

Do I romance the drink?  Do I remember my wine habit a little too fondly?  And is it dangerous to do so?

I have likened my memories of alcohol to an adored ex-boyfriend who was bad for me. After all, I spent a lot of time drinking and I hate to think there was nothing redeeming about that time in my life

There was also an ex-boyfriend I don’t remember fondly – someone so cruel I want to pretend he never happened.  Maybe that’s the ex I should remember, whenever I reminisce about alcohol.  The one who nearly killed me…





Speaking of dancing with the devil, go back and read my post The Masque of the Red Death.. If I survived, I’d probably remember Red Death as the good dancer with the fabulous costume, right?

Today I’m not drinking, because there is no romance in it…

How come you’re not drinking?