Since I am taking this blog quite personally and still intimately-revealing, I thought it is the best place to refer to writing now, when I have just came back from a party and feel sleepless and slightly drunk. Better here than anywhere else. Even if I delete this post tomorrow it will ease me now. Because it is about alcohol. There are four stages I pass through when drinking.
The first is totally sober and adequate. We all are there most of the time. (I hope so). The second is nice and easy yet fully controlled. Nothing I’d later be ashamed of. The easiness of the conversation comes and I even managed to speak some long-forgotten languages. The third one is short, but dangerous. I am starting to lose control, but is very likely to agree any weird idea. The limits are there, of course. I am not going to run naked across the city, but with a little convincing I could be talked into something I thought of, but never dared to try. This is where I start pulling up my hosiery every minute, which is a bad sign. Fortunately for me, it is a relatively short phase and once it is gone, I am getting into the fourth stage which is the overpowering desire to fall asleep. Wherever and whatever.
Red wine works best, but it works with pretty much anything else. Just remember that catching this fine third line is easier with weaker drinks.
Sh-h-h-h. Don’t tell any of my men.