As part of the examination on Saturday, the vet found a lump on one of her mammaries. These kind of lumps are usually benign, but it's come up really fast - last time I checked her for lumps was only a couple of months ago and it wasn't there then. Anyway, if they end up having to anaesthetise her, the vet said they could remove the lump at the same time, and that would definitely make me happier.
And after all this I'm going to go home and cuddle my dog a lot. She, meanwhile, was all *tragic look* "If I must" as I told her to get in the cage at the vet's. She's such a good dog. One who will probably poop in there later
On Saturday night a small group of friends and I gathered for the first in what will probably be a series of experiments entitled "Get Tats drunk." This stems from a previous conversation with tieke in which she described some aspects of alcohol as a social lubricant that I thought might be worth investigating further. One of my issues with alcohol has been an inability to achieve a state that I enjoy without there being negative side effects, and I was musing about whether there's a way I can do it without that. Also, I'm the eternal optimist and forever thinking that maybe this time it'll be different.
We decided to approach it scientifically - there was a spreadsheet recording type and volume of drink, time started, time finished, food eaten, comments about feelings etc. I had prepared by going to the supermarket and buying a dozen Coronas. Yeah, I know, a dozen wtf? I only really wanted about four, but you can't buy them in singles or small numbers at the supermarket so I got to experience what it feels like walking around in public carrying a Duz. It feels weird when you've never done it. I felt like I should be sneaking furtively, but there's no way to sneak furtively when carrying a large box that's labelled BEER! LOOK, BEER! HAVE YOU NOTICED? THIS PERSON IS GOING TO USE DRUGS! From my perspective I might as well have had a flashing light and a siren as well, but anyway.
So I now have a record of my alcohol consumption. In future there might be graphs. Anyway, the conclusion that was reached from Experiment 1 is that I don't like beer enough to drink it sufficiently fast to achieve any kind of altered state. I averaged just over one hour per bottle, and that was with me focusing on trying to drink it fast. After one I developed a fuzzy feeling around the outside of my face, and after three I might have been a little more garrulous than usual, but at no point did I feel like an uninhibited party animal that's 10 feet tall and bulletproof. There were tests involving standing on one leg, touching my nose and reciting the alphabet backwards, none of which proved difficult.
So then I tried sake. Sake being about three times the percentage by volume as beer, we thought that might work. After the beer it seemed pretty palatable but about half way down the glass my throat started to close after each mouthful and it was an effort to finish it. By this time it was after midnight and so we all went to bed.
Woo, party on!
I woke up feeling brain-fuzzy but with no other ill-effects. So while I failed to get drunk, I also avoided having a hangover. I guess that's a win. There will be more experimenting in future, possibly with a stronger type of alcohol if I can find one that I can swallow without retching. I can generally smell whiskey from across the room and there's nothing in that smell that makes me want to put it in my mouth.
So why am I putting myself through this? Because everything else I might use for the same purpose is illegal, and I think that occasionally it would be nice to just be able to indulge in drugs openly. It makes me sad that people are given no choice of recreational substances so folks who don't like alcohol are expected to just go without an outlet for their natural desire to sometimes alter their mindstate, or sneak around as if they're doing something bad. Fuck you, prohibition.
Meanwhile, we got our winter firewood delivered on Saturday. There was stacking and now our woodpile looks reassuringly big. Then it turned nasty-cold yesterday, but since I haven't heard back about whether the firebox is safe to use (it's had tiles falling off and this is apparently usually a sign that the internal box has been breached and too much heat is escaping) and we didn't want to risk burning the house down. I pulled out my feather lined slippers and my giant wool jersey instead.
WTF weather? It's March. It's not even the equinox yet. I demand more warmth! Now's good.