Vodka and Other Ruminations

It’s Sunday and the end of blogging Week #1.  It was a good idea to do this blogging thing – it gave me a healthy focus – that and Joey.   No anti-depressants, acupuncture or Chinese herbs for Sarah.   I know how to heal myself.

So the date.   He never showed – he left me a message that his work event ran longer than he anticipated, whatever that means.   Is it wrong I was relieved?  I sent him a message that it was just as well we didn’t meet – that I am probably emotionally unavailable for a while yet, going through a tough breakup.   I never heard back from him.

But Schaller’s on Friday – it was a lot of fun.  The evening started crabby, talking my friend off the despair ledge, getting a late start, too much traffic, worried I was standing up my date (hadn’t gotten his message at that point).  But once we were there and the martinis were flowing we were very silly and silly was fun.   I sang well which was a relief – my voice is back and only once did I almost lose my composure.   It was “All of Me” – the way I do it slowly at the beginning before picking up the tempo.   I don’t think anyone but Liza knew I was in trouble – maybe Bobby, the pianist, knew too.   I’ve never been on stage and lost it before – and I did get through it, barely, with some awkward pauses between phrases while I swallowed down tears that threatened to spill over.   Liza said she whispered to herself, “Come on. You can do it,” and was relieved when I rallied.  

And then there was the funniest part of the evening.   While I sang "All of Me" so believably and with such pathos, there was a man who was riveted.   He stood with his friends at the bar, transfixed.  When I returned to my seat he came over – handsome, young, sure of himself.   We chatted.  He flirted.   I looked on my smart phone for lyrics to a song he wanted to sing.   He made fun of me for being so North Shore and said I was probably all style and no substance.  He mocked my long fingernails and the problem I was having with my phone.   He asked me to feed him one of my olives which I did.  He thanked me with an unexpected kiss.    And then he left, saying, “Sweetheart, I’ll see you around.”  He didn’t look back.  It was perfect…..a flirt, being appreciated, a kiss…..but nothing more and no need for follow up.   It’s all I can handle now.   I hope I never see him again because I’m already fond of that memory.

No new bad habits….that is my motto.   Most of you know about the epic list I made years ago.   I can pinpoint the day when I decided to grab life’s brass ring.   I itemized all the things I needed to fix about myself - the list was huge.   I needed to lose 175 pounds and become fit, tend to my grooming and beauty, find creative outlets, become less angry, learn intimacy skills, face up to my unhappy marriage, and more.   I challenged myself to do it all – to give myself a shot at happiness.   Since then I have lost 125 pounds, my health is fabulous thanks to lots of exercise and clean eating, I sing seriously, I write for mental health, I have visited the chasm of childhood insanity and survived stronger, I left a marriage that deadened me, my relationship with my kids is so much better, I am comfortable with physical intimacy, I got rid of the television and my home is a creative sanctuary.    It’s wonderful and amazing and I’m proud of myself.   I attribute the changes to a strong will to live and thrive, a good support system and a lot of discipline.

So…no new bad habits.  Why would I want to start anything that would dilute or undermine the progress I’ve made?   To be fully present, to be joyfully functioning, you need to challenge yourself daily and be on the lookout for anything that holds you back, makes you complacent, keeps you from living well.   There are times to say “no” to yourself.    We all know what we need to be well.   It’s just so damn hard at times to put it into practice.   Rules, rules, rules – yuck.   But if we make rules for ourselves because we love ourselves, because we are being our own good parent, that is good.

Vodka.   I’m not going to drink it anymore.   It’s a new bad habit.   I’ve never been much of a drinker – until the renaissance I maybe had 1-2 drinks a month.   Then the separation and I was out 4-5 nights per week.   Suddenly the social activities I planned all included liquor:  all the singing stuff I do, dinner with friends, even drinks after the writing group.   Liquor everywhere.   And then an affair with a certain pianist and a new love and appreciation for a well made martini, fussing over the choice of vodka (splitting hairs over whether Stoly, Grey Goose, Ketel 1, or Belvedere was the best and debating the merits of a blue cheese stuffed olive over a traditional manzanilla pimento stuffed one).

So I’ve come to love a good martini, or two or in the case of Friday, three.   And each martini is the equivalent of at least two drinks, so wow!   And many of my friends are hard drinking martini lovers as well, so there is camaraderie there.   But this is not good, right?   I’ve never until this last year been a drinker – I’ve led my entire life as a bit of a prude, making a fuss over having a single glass of wine.   Why would I want a new bad habit to take me into the last chapters of my life?   And older people often DO acquire new bad habits.   My mother was never a drinker and now she has several glasses of wine a day to squelch her loneliness.   This is feeling like a potentially slippery slope.    I also never want to be a person who sits alone at a bar, part of the lonely heart’s club, sipping a cocktail, and waiting for someone to talk to me.   Put me out of my misery before I am one of them.

New rules.    #1 No more martinis – alcohol limited to a single, wonderful glass of wine, then switch to tea.   #2 Alcohol limited to three nights a week which means no more than three glasses of wine per week  #3 Never drink alone at home or alone at a bar (I don’t do this now, but I will remind myself to never start).  And having made all these rules, I will make them the norm, but feel free to break them once in a while.   If it’s New Year’s and I want a martini, I’m going to indulge.

So, boring post I know, but this blog is about being well.   I am sincerely worried about the effects of alcohol. I worry about my friends who are drenching their pain in booze – I just wish they could be happy without it.   I worry that it’s so easy to anesthetize ourselves when we should be facing up to whatever is on our plate and not trying to escape through the use of substance.   Here's an idea!  What if I invited my friends over on a Friday night and I put on some new age music and we sat around on yoga mats and held hands and closed our eyes and were comforted by each others’ presence?   What if we used calming music and a peaceful environment along with each others’ warmth to decompress from a stress-filled week?   We could drink ginger tea and eat grape leaves and play board games and feel really great on Saturday morning.