Gee. What to write…

I find myself not in a blogging mood and not having been in one for quite a while. I don’t write in mine. I don’t read others. Nothing personal. I’m just not interested at the moment.

I’m going out for drinks tonight. I don’t do that so often anymore. My doctor tells me I have a drinking problem. She says that you’re only meant to have two standard drinks a day. She tells me that there is positive evidence that alcohol is cancer-inducing. Lots of things are cancer-inducing. Last week, my workmate told me that Rice Bubbles is cancer-inducing.

Doc: Do you drink?
Me: Yes.
Doc: How often?
Me: About once a week or so.
Doc: How many drinks?
Me: Um… about four or five [conservative count].
Doc: Is that schooners, midis, spirits?
Me: Schooners, I guess [is pints an option?].
Doc: So that would equate to what… seven standard drinks?
Me: Um… I guess so.
Doc: Do you think you have a drinking problem?
Me: Um… no.
Doc: I think you do.

Didn’t I come in to have my Asthma checked out?

You’re an alcoholic.

__________

I bought Ryan Adams’ new one (Cold Roses) for the second time last week. Thank goodness that Ryan, for me, transcends any kind of sentimental associations that one normally attaches between songs and significant life events (e.g. trips, chance romantic encounters or your first taste of Habibs). To allow someone enough power to taint my appreciation Ryan’s music would be unforgivable. Fortunately, I enjoy hearing (to paraphrase Lisa Simpson) the sweet country soul in his voice as much now as I ever did.