Signs you're growing up:
In preparation for a night of drinking on a work night, you eat lunch late in the day and make sure it's starchy and good. So as to soak up the alcohol and prevent unfortunate situations like your last two nights out on the town. Your birthday haunts you still.
As you sip your first drink of what could be a long night, and you realize it's mostly Jameson with just a drop of ginger, make a mental note to either stick with whisky or switch now - NOW - you know you can't mix!
Decide that even though you have no idea what this place really is, if it's described at The Real Deal, it's a good idea to go!
At the first site of El Presidente gigante, rather than balk and order another drink - perhaps something more dainty or feminine - you dig deep and come up with the courage for the first sip of your giant beer...and decide you don't know how you ever lived your life before this first glorious taste! And then partake of two more rounds!
When you hear something along the lines of "met this woman who may or may not have been a hooker," you recognize the outward hilarity of such a statement, and then surprise yourself by being intrigued by the possibility of any situation that involves a woman who may or may not be a hooker. The potential is mind-boggling.
As you sit listening to some good tunes, hanging with some good friends, sipping Aquavit with a Norwegian and smoking your very own pipe, you think, "Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta."
You recognize when a friend needs a damn slice and set off in search of sustenance.
You try very hard to articulate to the friend in need of a slice that you can, indeed, relate dude. For real. And you need to fucking write. And you know I'm right.
When the bouncer tells you the bar is closed, you are not compelled to yell "F you!" and threaten his life by insinuating that you'll have your 7 foot tall brother kick his ass. You're just growing up so fast!
You actually learned how to post pictures on your blog.
To Dane! To Sam! To Puerto Rico and new beginnings! To Presidentes and Caridad and growing up. And to New York City, for making it all possible.
And to all women who may or may not be hookers.
Salud!
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An unrelated post...
To all on our path...
The Road Not Taken
TwO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Hasn't it though???
To all who share this road...my cohorts...for every steep climb, and every well deserved downhill slope, we travel together on the journey to the best we can be.
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