Godamn, I Miss Drinking!

Every year, as I've mentioned in one of my 500 blogs, I partake in what is known as "detox January." This has been going on for quite some time now, and I'm not even really sure what this has done for me in days of yore, since come February I go right back into that swinging, alcoholic lifestyle everyone loves me for.

I guess it's more of a mindfuck thing...if I don't drink, then everything else in my life will become healthy by association.

I will say, it's been 11 days and I am quite enjoying the mornings of waking up without a hangover, and not smelling like American Spirits Lights mixed with bar sweat. I have more energy, and, since I am not smoking, I can breathe again.

However, I picked up my latest copy of Time Out NY--that rag of all things hip and trendy--(insert facetious tone here) and I was salivating at the description of all of the new bars and drinking holes that were listed.

I started getting that anxious feeling, you know the one...like when you step into semi-annual shoe sale at Bergdorf and you want to buy everything? And your heart starts beating madly and you sweat a little? Yea, that was me on the northbound B train while going over the Manhattan Bridge this morning. I read about a new wine bar on Atlantic Avenue, and another place in Dumbo, and places with fireplaces and places that serve drinks with paper umbrellas and places with longass happy hours and places that would be perfect to molest my boyfriend in...

Fucking detox January. Who are we fooling, really? I mean, the minute the clock strikes midnight on February 1st, I'm going to bathe myself in 10 gallons of Bluberri Stoli and rub lemon twists all over my naked ass self.

Or maybe, just maybe, I can learn to sit in a bar and sip seltzer. That would be something new and different, eh?