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Wednesday, August 03, 2005

In Progress

So, I haven't posted in a couple of days, and let's face it, Monday was a cop out. This is no way to treat a newborn blog.
So, yeah. Sooo.... yeah. What's new. Been drinking a lot of coffee, smoking a lot of cigarettes. Drinking other peoples beers, which they keep conveniently leaving at my house. What's good for the wallet's good for the gander. Well, goose, I guess. Except I'm not really a goosey sorta person. Not a ferret either, that'd do, except they're too much like weasels. Not cat or dog, too done. No herbivores, especially ones with hooves. I am not a hoofed mammal.
Okay, so I don't know what animal I am. Year of the horse, but there's that whole hooved mammal thing there, so that doesn't help. (Like the way I typed hoofed once, and hooved the second time, so I'm guaranteed to be right at least once. Yeah, I'm sneaky like that. Gotta figure out what's up with my spell check.)
There we go! This post is about....The Beer. Tonight, I have broken a four year old promise to myself. I have failed me.
See, when I was pregnant, I was hot. And cranky. And had allergies. And lived in a hot, cranky, parking lot. And I really needed a beer. But that's just not kosher when you're preggers, so I just dreamed of beer.
And then it hit me: after all those years of having woken up to consume the half empty can of luke warm Canadian left on the dresser before rolling my sorry ass off to work, I did not, truly, want a luke warm, nasty-flat can of Canadian. When I dreamed of beer in my preggers days, (and these were deep, meaningful dreams, full of graphic, sensual detail, and the foam, Oh the foam!) stop....drink beer....
I dreamed of great, wondrous beers. Of Irish pubs with fifty different beers on tap. Of ice cold bottles of Corona when it was hot, not to be touched without a wedge of lime, of pints of Guinness by a fire and pool table for those days that are pissing down rain. So many beers. So much love. (I can't elaborate right now, got a heineken sitting in front of me. It's like trying to think of one tune while another's blasting in your ear.)
Anyway, I made a vow to myself. I would never again settle for a shitty beer. No cans. No warm beer. No macro brewery crap. And never again would I drink a bud light, just cause it was there and free. Beer was to be loved, treasured, and appreciated for all it's true worth.
And now? Tonight, for the first time in over four years, I am speaking to you while drinking a can, yes, a can, of beer. The first time I have cracked a can since before pregnancy.
I have truly, deeply, failed. All it took was opening my fridge door, to be face by cans of beer, and no mix for the rum, and I folded like a Russian gymnast.

Well, at least it's not bud light.

Oh! Oh! Let's see what happens when you huck your post into Babel Fish, translate to Greek, then back again!

Thus, I have not placed in certain days, and him you face, Monday it was spo'la outside. This is not no way is faced one newborn blog. Thus, yes. Sooo.... naj. Who young person. Pj'nontas of a lot of coffee, that smokes a lot of cigarettes. Pj'nontas other beers of populations, which they confortably keep in my house. Who good for the good of wallet for gander. Well, goose, I suppose. Apart from I am not really person sorta goosey. No a koyna'vj nor, that'd, unless it is too much as the weasels. No ga'ta or dog, that becomes too much. No one herbivores, specifically these with the hoofs. I am not hoofed mammal. All right, thus I do not know which animal I am. The year of horse, but there this entire the thing suckling there, so it does not help. (As the way that daktylogra'fisa hoofed a time, and the second time, thus are guaranteed in order to I am right at least a time. Yes, I am sneaky as this. The Gotta calculates what above with the control of my orthographic errors.) There we go! This place is for... The the beer. Tonight, I have broken age promise of four years in with. With I have failed. See, when I was e'gkyos, I was boiling hot. And unstable. And it had the allergies. And in a boiling hot, unstable, part of spaces of quartering. And needed really a beer. But this precisely not kosher when you are ami'hanoj, thus i dreamed precisely the beer. And then me it struck: after all those the years you have woken up you consume up to half the void it can the hot Canadian left winger luke in my kommo' before roll dreary donkey in order to works far, genuinely, did not want a luke hot, unpleasant can Canadian. When I dreamed the beer in my ami'hanes days, (and these were deep, important dreams, complete graphic, sensual detail, and the foam, OH the foam!) beer of attitudes... drink.... I dreamed the big, marvellous beers. From the Irish bars with fifty different beers in the tap. From the cold bottles of ice of crown when he was boiling hot, in order to it is not touched upon without a wedge of lime, pjntw'n Guinness from table of fire and lakes for those days where under the rain. As a lot of beers. So much a lot of love (I cannot shape immediately, I took a heineken meeting front from with. It is as the effort to think that his one you coordinate the other anatj'naxi in your ear.) En pa'si perjptw'sej, made my oath in. I would not install never again for a shitty beer. No container. No hot beer. No long brewery crap. And e'pjna never again a light of eyes, precisely cause that was there also free. The beer was to be loved, and it appreciated for all that it deserves genuine. And now? Tonight, for first time in above four years, I speak to you pj'nontas the a I can, yes, a I can, the beer. The first time I have ragj'sej the a I can from then before the pregnancy. Genuinely, deep, I have failed. All that it took did not open my door of refrigerators, in order to he is person from the containers of beer, and no mix for the rum, and folded as Russian gymnast. Well, at least it is not light of eyes.

6 Comments:

Blogger Sara said...

Being an avid beer drinker (albeit an avid crap beer drinker) being pregnant and thus not able to drink did not sit well with me at all. Especially since I was surrounded by drinkers. But one night while at a bar for karaoke with my man, his mom, my sister and her hubby, watching them all get wasted and being green with envy and fat with child(ren), something hit me.
It was a bottle of O'Douls. No, it didn't literally hit me. You know what I mean. O-freakin-Douls. I hate near-beer. And up until that point, I never saw a use for it. But I love the taste of beer so much and I needed to not feel like an outsider and O'Douls saved me. It kept me sane.
Well, as sane as you can possibly be with so many hormones in your body and so little alcohol.

8/04/2005 10:14 AM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

Sara: One of my friends got me this bottle of non-alchoholic 'champagne' as a present - it was apple juice based, and I'm seriously allergic to apples. Yet I stared at that fizzy apple juice for days, almost willing to risk puking my guts out and swollen lips and face, on the off chance it might taste anything like real champagne.

8/04/2005 10:18 AM  
Blogger Boo! said...

Yes, I remember not being able to drink or do anything fun for a loooong time twice. Never again. Never ever.

8/04/2005 11:57 AM  
Blogger Truecraig said...

Babbelfish is the shit! Canned beers (except maybe Fosters and Guinness) tend to taste like cat urine (don't ask how I know that). Being pregnant is something I hope to never be (no offense meant) and luckily, I have no womb in which to grow a person. So there's that.

Me likey how you writey. I'm just sayin'.

8/05/2005 7:26 AM  
Blogger Impulsivecompulsive said...

Mmmmm...cat urine. No wait, that's not what I meant to say. Shit. Now you all think I'm weird. Dammit. (Maybe they didn't notice. Just keep moving.)
Mmmmm...guinness.

8/05/2005 8:16 AM  
Blogger bnlv said...

Your posts are a riot! 'Tis good to know there are others that respect 'BEER.'

10/10/2005 3:15 AM  

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