Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend...

“Ingratitude is treason to mankind.” James Thomson

Friday 29 July 2011

I really should try to learn.

Despite having grown up in the States during the Just Say No era*, it turns out I am not very good at saying no, and despite my best efforts (jimjams wardrobe, general dishevelment, allowing my communication skills to atrophy until social intercourse is prohibitively trying for all involved), I seem to have a social life and friends and a fair amount of interaction which involves alcohol. Apparently I cannot refuse alcohol.

I belong to a group of Ladies in my neighbourhood who sing together. Yes. I have finally achieved the status of suburban singing matron, which, if I am honest, has been my life's goal along with eating in nice restaurants and antiquing. Ah middle age, where have you been all my life?

The singing Ladies drink wine. I love wine, but I am not very good at it. My increasingly elderly metabolism is easily bedrunkified and I can't be counted on to maintain any decorum at all. Don't even get me started on spirits. I can drink a little real ale with some dignity, if I can get past the feeling of looking like a hod carrier in a dress.

I'm feeling a bit fat and exhausted, which I put down to regular alcohol consumption. It must stop. I have no confidence that I can Just Say No and am searching for a passive way to get people to stop offering it to me. It seems mean to just stop bringing wine to rehearsals. Maybe bring a bottle of soda water instead? Hang a sign around my neck? Antabuse?

I'd like to join a book club as well, but it could kill me.

*...or perhaps because of it. I am contrary.