Whisky & Cherries (Blog)

It’s before noon on an icy, cold New England Wednesday and I’m googling what types of alcohol are permitted for those with a gluten intolerance.

(I have a gluten intolerance.)

I am not a drinker. I am a prolific marijuana smoker, but haven’t had much alcohol since my early to mid-twenties. (I’m knocking on 40’s door.) It always made me incredibly sick, but after my celiac diagnosis two+ years ago I now realize it was likely due to my intolerance for the gluten the alcohol I was drinking had in it; not the alcohol itself.

I had always assumed it was just the alcohol itself, and could never understand why it made me so damn sick but not any of my friends (or family members, who are prolific drinkers).

Pot is great and all, but it turns off my common sense receptors when it comes to food… and I’m heavier than I’ve ever been in my life now. I’m ready to give it a little break and move onto other unhealthy coping mechanisms.

It’s 20motherfucking20, I had to quit my job several months ago to stay home with my kids because of the whole homeschooling thing (Covid), and truth-be-told I was incredibly unhappy long before the ‘Rona ever showed it’s ugly mug, so my emotions are all over the damn place and I need a pacifier.

I’m also desperately lonesome, thirsty (absolutely fucking parched) for connection and conversation, and my bank account is negative. Christmas is approaching, I have two children; one who still believes in Santa and believes the old, fat, red dude will bring him a brand new gaming PC (spoiler alert: not going to happen), and the other who is a teen and wants clothing I can’t afford.

I am eternally grateful to be where I am during all of this, but I can’t get into much detail about that. This is no longer a private blog and hasn’t been for a long while, so I must be cautious with what I choose to share. (Something of which does not come easily for me. I am, and always have been, an open book.)

I desperately want to make money again, but I’ll admit I’m far more desperate to just simply be around other adults right now.

I miss the conversation.

I miss listening to the petty drama of people who think the world owes them. It was such a welcomed distraction.

I’m a thousand miles away from my family and closest friends, and I have never felt as desperately lonesome as I do now.

So, subsequently, I want to start drinking again, because clearly that is the healthiest way to manage my emotions during the holidays. *raises eyebrow* 🍻

I’m thinking whisky.

… which is funny because I can’t honestly ever remember having whisky in my life.

I’ve had a weird craving for it for months now, and I’m ready to go buy myself a bottle, but it needs to be special. Not some marked down, bottom shelf bullshit. If I’m going to start drinking again, I want it to be special. This is a momentous occasion.

I picture myself sitting by the fire in my highly sophisticated grey sweatpants and Christmas llama slippers, sipping on some top-shelf whisky with a few maraschino cherries within. Maybe even an Old Fashioned. 🥃

[Marian Hill’s “Whisky” plays softly in the background.]

🎶 You’re on the top shelf, and I’m looking up
Perfectly crafted
Bartender tell me
What’s in that cup
Yeah I got to have it
I know you won’t burn when I drink my glass
I know how to drink it I learn pretty fast
So take me to bed babe, and I’ll close my eyes
Yeah I like the whisky with my lullaby

Throw it back, throw it back

Sip it slow. 🎶

I’d wish for good conversation to go along with it, but one Christmas miracle at a time is only fair. Electronic conversation (text and such) will have to do for now. I’m grateful for my friends. They keep me sane. They keep me grounded.

🎅🏻 🎄

Dear Santa,

Bring me phenomenal whisky and maraschino cherries.

Please.

Forever yours,

Lonesome in New England.

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