Not a Secret

If you can discern anything about from me from this blog, it is that sometimes I like to drink. I don’t think that’s a crime and I don’t think I have a problem. Maybe you can tell me otherwise. Champagne happens to be my favorite apéritif/meal/digestif of late. Lily Bollinger shares my sentiments toward champagne:

“I drink it when I'm happy and when I'm sad.
Sometimes I drink it when I'm alone.
When I have company I consider it obligatory.
I trifle with it if I'm not hungry and I drink it when I am.
Otherwise I never touch it, unless I'm thirsty.”

But there is one thing in particular that bothers me about drinking: having to see pictures of myself after the fact and where the effects of a cocktail are clearly evident. Alcohol causes my mouth to hang open awkwardly and my eyes to droop lazily.


The loss of facial muscle control is staggering. And no, I am not naked. I was wearing a strapless dress.


Yikes!

I know I’m not the only one with this problem (I have evidence), but in the meantime, please share in my embarrassment. Thanks.

Also, if you don’t understand the purpose of blogs let me instruct you (Robert). I want to read and write things that make me think, learn, laugh and… eat. And maybe I can get you to think, learn, laugh and eat as well. And if you stick around, maybe just once, I can aid in getting you laid. No promises.