October 29, 2003
In vino veritas
I think I'm addicted to wine. I'm not saying that I'm becoming an alcoholic. But I am saying that the flavor and that certain quality that hits my tongue and makes it feel all warm and good is just too sweet. Because we have like almost a hundred gallons of (red) wine in the place now (totally long story that I'm not going to write about), I'm drinking it regularly now. I'm not getting drunk or even tipsy off of it, either. I think I'm developing a resistance to it. I don't know, can you do that? Anyway, it's to the point that I'm starting to long for the sensation that the wine makes on my tongue and that wonderful taste it leaves behind more than the high.
And I just love the fact that it's so good for your heart. I'm so glad that some of my favorite things (wine, garlic, sex) are good for you. I'm so tired of hearing about how bad everything is.
I haven't had a cigarette in months. I know, tell me about it. You can go either way on that one. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry." OR "Oh, that's fantastic!" My neighbors on each side of me smoke, and they go outside to do so. Every night I can smell their secondhand fumes drifting into my open window, and I enjoy it until I have to close the window.
I guess I don't have an addictive personality because I know that if I bought a pack of cigs tonight, I could smoke a couple and be done with the pack and not have to finish it or make it a regular routine. I've always been like that.
I wish the US would sell the 10-cig packs over here. They're sold in the UK and in Europe, and I thought they were a great deal, especially when you're just going out for the night, and you don't want to smoke that much. You know, have a couple, share a couple, and then you're done. Easy. Oh, whatever.
I just heard a car accident outside. Do I dare and be the lookie-loo that goes out and stares? No, I guess not. I am in the ghetto after all. Could be bad.
