What if there are no right answers
I spoke to a friend last night who started crying on the phone – she was in self-loathing mode and was beating herself up for recent behaviour that seemed to involve alcohol and men. Hmm, I said, well, welcome to the club of women older than a teenager and younger than an AARP card, who can’t seem to act right. Another girlfriend told me Saturday night that she overindulges in alcohol, the social lubricant, particularly around men she is most attracted to and so she was most concerned when a recent beau sent a text that said “don’t drink 2 much 2nite.” Of course, her problem is she falls asleep when she drinks 2 much, the first one simply goes hog wild at high octane levels.
There is some lethal combination about men we woman want and the need to self-medicate that doesn’t seem to have an answer except maybe, okay I’ll give you this one, don’t drink when around them?
In the meantime, men are tricky creatures too – they use alcohol in the same way – to embolden themselves in situations they find intimidating.
Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just walk into a room and sniff each other’s butts and hold our nose snug in each other’s crotch the way dogs do – without a care in the world?