The worst part of dry January is having to use the word “mocktails.”
This is my favorite dry January joke. This is my third such year of forgoing booze in the first month of the new year, and I use this joke every time. I am clearly somewhat less interesting without alcohol. Like party games or brunch or furniture shopping.
A funny thing happens when you tell people that you’re giving up alcohol for a month. Most commonly, it triggers some sort of guilt or resolve in people. “Oh I may try that, too, but I have this party next week…” Or some other “Yes, except no I’d actually rather not.” Let me be clear: I am not the friend who needs everyone else to try the diet or sign up for the half marathon. I’m not asking you to join in. I am literally only mentioning this so you know why I’m turning down that beer or not texting to meet for a glass of wine or why my skin will look like it was kissed by Tinkerbell by Jan. 31.
But my favorite question so far has been, “Why not give it up entirely? Why just a month?” Because drinks are delicious and I’m 30 without children so I prefer the path of least resistance when it comes to making plans. I’m simply: A. Taking a break to delude myself for a month that I’ll tackle that project/workout with vigor/clean the hall closet/try to sell the bag of clothes behind my dresser and B. Giving my sweet liver a break after the Jay Gatsby party that is December. … Continue reading “Sippin’ that (nonalcoholic cran and seltzer)” →