The Drinking Game.

Rainy days are for staying in. Curling under the covers with the window open as rain patters rhythmically outside, they are sleepy days of comfort and staying in. 

Not if you’re visiting some of the best wine country around though. Oh no- rainy days here in Amador County, California are for wine tasting and tipsy times.  

See, I love me a good ole fashioned drink. 

French Gimlets, Moscow Mules, Lemon Drops, Baileys on the rocks, Guinness, a fancy glass of wine, and anything with champagne are some of my special beverages of choice.  

Like anything though, I find them best when they’re drunk in moderation.  Anything in excess causes the greatest pleasures (and in this case, drinking) to cease and become ordinary. 

There’s another reason I don’t drink excessively: I don’t like how my body feels after it’s been drowning in spirits.

I’ve never been quote on quote “drunk” before, but the other night, I had a taste of what it felt like to be past tipsy and dangerously close to losing my inhibition.  

I was with my roomies, we were at home, and we played a Harry Potter drinking game. It sounded innocent enough, but after about four/five shots of vodka and a lemonade chaser, I was beginning to lose my senses.  

When I’ve been at this stage before, I become painfully aware of the fact that I am no longer in complete control. I fight against this uncontrollable weight that fogs my ability to think clearly and I halt drinking at once to avoid the inevitable change in mood and oncoming sickly sensation. 

I get called a party pooper and a sore loser for not being “loose enough”, but I simply stand my ground and continue playing my own character in this drinking game.  

They say you’re a prude when you deem yourself designated driver night after night, a drunk when you’ve drunk too much, a loose cannon when you can’t hold your liquor, and you’re made to feel left out of you’re not as hammered as everyone else at the party/bar/club. 

Forgive me if I choose to avoid awkward situations where I’m not in control of my body, or hungover mornings, or a bank account that reminded me of how much money I spent the night before on drinks.  

I’m not saying I don’t like drinking or I don’t care for alcohol, I’m just saying that in this drinking game, I’ll chose how I want to play, what I want to drink, and how much I want to drink.  

I don’t need to be drunk to “have a good time” and I certainly won’t fall privy to society’s pressures to drink a certain amount to fit in and have fun. I know what limits my body has and I know what I’m comfortable with, and I’m sorry but six shots isn’t good on my mind, and it certainly isn’t good on my body. 

To that, I’ll toast you with my fancy glass of Nuee Ardente from local winery Lava Cap, and go about my rainy day.