I don’t like beer or wine. 

Apparently, when I was a wee tot, I loved beer.  My Dad used to tell me that he couldn’t open a beer without me showing up and telling him, “Want some.”  I even have vague memories of liking the taste of beer.

Not anymore.  Gack.  It tastes like dirty underwear smells.

And I am soooooooo tired of people telling me that they have a wine that I will like. 

No, you don’t.  Because I.  Don’t. Like. Wine.

I also don’t like any kind of booze straight.

What I like is a ridiculously sweet drink where the taste of the actual alcohol is well concealed.

So, I really don’t like booze at all.

What I like is the effect booze has on me.

I am a fun drunk. 

I know alcohol is supposed to be a depressant.  Not for me.  It cheers me the fuck up.

What I don’t like are the day-after effects of booze. 

My digestive system is “touchy” at the best of times.  It is absolutely cantankerous after drinking.

I just got to the point where it wasn’t worth it. 

I miss drunk me. 

But I don’t miss puking, nauseous, cramping diarrhea me.