30 days off/On the wagon AOLAB 5APR2014.

So it is official.

Outside of a slight gray area slip sip due to taking communion the other day in an ornate church down in the CBD, This April I am off Alcohol. In its entirety. In New Orleans. Working part-time at the party vortex that IS India House.

yep. It’s been a long time coming. Just by breathing in the atmosphere alone within city limits you can end up with a blood alcohol level of like .8. & i’m like the superlight weight these days…but frankly said, over the past quarter I started noticing that its not even doing the same thing in my system anymore.

I USED to be lit off just one beer for like ages…which was comedy in itself due to going to college in the middle of the grain alcohol country that IS Ohio, slamming through all levels of inebriation underground in NYC and abroad, then doing business in Japan where you don’t DO business without being able to get controllably shit-faced with the salarimen.

But from like November onward I watched it shrink from a glass or two of wine with dinner with no issues, to  not even being able to stomach a whole beer by the middle of February. I moved gingerly to Mead- like a shot of Mead dining out, solely for shits & giggles for the Valkyrie in me. I may have had four glasses of wine last month, & like half a bottle of champagne while watching Dog Day afternoon or something…but I really haven’t enjoyed it. & I used to enjoy wine immensely. When I drank bad wine(it can go bad?! iiii know! I thought that was an urban legend too!) & was hellishly shiested for like a weekend, I Finally was like “Woman, your body is trying to tell you something.”So I started looking into what can feasibly happen when you stop imbibing..

My inner-add-on to all this is that both of my grandfathers drank, as did most of their generation after coming back from WWII, I guess. & both families went through a lot due to that long before I arrived on the scene. I grew up surrounded by the silence of the scar tissue from the unspoken about things they apparently did. But at the same time, one of them used to give us shots of gin to calm us the frank down when he baby-sat. & it worked lol. And it is why  I cannot drink Gin to this day lol[and possibly why my tolerance was so high when I was younger lol].They’re both home in Heaven now, but I’ve been aware of their hearts in the spirit a lot lately. Which helped me decide to just test it out and see.

In one way I thought this out a lot. In another way, yes this means during Jazz Fest its a no-go…which i’d forgot about, but the only day i’m keen on is Santana day,& i’m not really one to be dropping cash on festival price gouged beer as it is. The slip-up that God gave me a pass for- I really wasn’t even thinking about the wine when I went up to take the wafer- was also something that has to factor in. It may also mean i’m not making any Italian food all month because my sauces love to be drunk, burning off prior to eating or not lol.

Another place I was encouraged in this was in that Sharon Stone article for Shape Magazine. It was the first time i’d heard what I was witnessing in me regarding the shift happening to someone else. So perhaps this is par for the course. I came out of Ethereal enjoying food in a more sacred way. Maybe that can happen here. Better wine, less often.

Or it may be like how the 2nd of April felt after being on fish the brunt of March. & by “felt” I mean “devouring BBQ beef brisket for dinner after a lunch of leftover duck after a dinner that started with bone marrow-” whilst planning a BBQ run to Memphis all on surreal autopilot. Though I pray to God it won’t be… although, I have a sneaking suspicion that Mongolian beef two nights in a row after all that MAY be why i’m feeling a little ‘eh’ today. It may very well be I’ve congested myself up w/this feasting after a month of clean-eating &my body is simply not amused.  We’ll find out, because i’m hitting a festival the week I come off of this.

But the funny thing was…as soon as my body realized I was seriously  not playing about April[which wasn’t until the last week of March]…I had what went down like the Best glass of plum wine of my Life  on Saturday. But by the same token, my true last drink, a “Belle Epoque” from Restaurant R’evolution on the 31st was not so special at all…because I could taste that they didn’t just change the glass, they tweaked the recipe. For me? That’s a little too much awareness. & made me underscore walking this out.

I’ll keep you posted.

No, I don’t have a name for it, but we know i’m gonna name the whole deal Something.

Be Blessed & see you on the other side.

 

 

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