Day 03-views on 'the juice'

I had my first taste of beer when I was twelve. I thought it was gross and moved on.

I didn't have my first "real drink" until sophomore year in college. And I didn't start drinking until my junior year, when I successfully made up for lost time with my new-found love for tequila and house parties.

My mom was always one of ‘those parents’ that didn’t care if we drank –as long as we didn’t really drink, and we did it under supervision. If we wanted to try things, she would let us, probably with the reasoning that feelings of deprivation and curiosity would overtake us and we’d turn into guzzling heathens. Her (rather clever) tactic was to allow us beer first. It is an ‘acquired taste’, afterall. It’s also convenient and cheap and pretty disgusting to a twelve year old living out a short-lived career as ‘beer nurse’ on football Sundays. So that was the end of that. Later on I discovered colorful fun things like Mike’s hard lemonade, but I never got very far because I felt guilty about drinking and was kind of opposed to it. [Unfortunately for me this was also around the time I discovered coffee. I wish that hadn’t stuck]

Back in the day I didn't have friends that drank, or smoked, or did anything else really. I remember this strange disconnect between me and my friends and "those that did drugs". Yes, this was a label. We had movie nights and downtown nights where we walked around and goofed around and hung out in playgrounds. That was my kind of fun.

Now I know people that smoke, drink, ,'shrooms, watch bad TV, and every so often go into manic-rages onset by cocaine. Quite the change from five years ago, when I was oblivious, didn’t go to parties, and never even held a solo cup.

These things make me fear for my sister. She seems to be a lot more ‘in the know’.

These things also make me grateful for my social skills.