C2H6O and me

One of the most interesting dichotomies in the human psyche (or at least in my psyche) is the concurrent desire to be special and to fit in.

I think that it's safe to say that most of us want to be different. To be unique (or, rather, to appear to be unique; clearly we all are singular). To stand out so that people are impressed.

At the same time, different can be scary. Different can be isolating. And I think that it's safe to say that most of us want to fit in. To belong. To be accepted.

I guess it's easy to say, "Everyone should be accepted for their differences! The collective is enriched by each individual expressing herself/himself!" To a certain extent, this is true; life is more interesting because of differences in people, and quirks (positive and negative) are often endearing to us.

The fact is, though, that we each make judgments on people based on what we see and hear from them, and in my opinion we reach those judgments on standards generally based on our own looks/capabilities/personality and/or on what we see as "normal" in those areas.

If I speak to someone that I think is terribly boring, or not bright (i.e., stupid), it's going to make an impression on me. And it's not going to be, "I'm so glad that my life has been improved by that conversation with a human doorknob." Ireally try not to judge people, and I understand that first impressions are often inaccurate, but I think I'm probably going to be less likely to talk to that person again because most of the time I don't like speaking to people like that if I have any choice.

But this blog isn't about me. Or, rather, it is about me, but it's less about me judging than it is me feeling judged.

I, like everyone, have my idiosyncracies. Some of them come and go... for most of my college days at Northwestern, I kept some silly vow not to get my hair cut outside of the state of Oregon. Which meant that I was constantly shaggy. When I finally broke the vow, it was disasterous... a certain future ex-wife of mine gamely tried to cut my hair (if I remember correctly, it was because I had died it black after getting it cut in the state of Oregon, and my brown roots made me look even more ridiculous than normal as it grew out). And while she succeeded in "cutting" it, she did so only in the strictest sense... my hair was cut, but it looked like ass.

Some of my quirks have had a longer shelf life. My abstention from alcohol is first and foremost. I've thought a lot about why I do not and (save for some sips of beer as a kid and a single half-shot of something or other in middle school) have not imbibed. Sure, part of it is deeply rooted childhood memories (nasty taste of beer, seemingly embarrassing behavior by family members after consuming booze). And part of it is a fear (of lack of control, of killing of brain cells, of drinking to excess too often... ).

As one might detect from, say, every entry of this blog, I am absolutely capable of making an ass of myself without the help of chemical alteration. I am totally willing to put my foot in my mouth with little or no justification. And I am almost incapable of not beating myself up over each and every one of the things that I do wrong.

Heck, I remember one time in law school where I hadn't done the reading and I got called on to answer questions about a case, and as I glanced through the material and tried to BS my way through I ended up making a cogent but entirelywrong argument. I remember one time at a high school party where I made a joke about counting the number of people at the party with fewer than ten fingers or toes, and seeing a guy smile at me oddly... and that guy turned out to be missing a finger, as it turns out. I remember rolling my ankle and falling down on the sidewalk, tearing a hole in my shirt and scraping my elbow... of course, that was only like 2 weeks ago, and my scab is still lingering, so that doesn't take much of a memory.

I think that I've got some fear that my natural ability to make mistakes is going to grow exponentially with the intoxicating effects of alcohol.

But I think that it's laso largely a combination of inertia and stubborness. Not drinking is part of who I am. I've been relatively happy without it, and I get some sort of odd pleasure at carrying my Sprite around the bar (I sometimes fancy that someone thinks that I'm, like, in recovery or something, rather than a guy who's frightened). I also take some pride in having been the way I am for so long in spite of everyone I know (save one, who actually might drink wine occasionally; I haven't discussed it with him recently) partaking.

It goes back to the dichotomy of desiring to be special, but also to fit in.

Because, let's be honest: drinking does have at least two benefits. The first is that it acts as a social lubricant. With a bit of the sauce in me, maybe I'll have the guts to talk to more people (girls)... and even if I make a fool of myself more often, I would imagine that I could meet and get to know more people, too. The second benefit is that it's just something that helps one fit in... not so much that all the cool kids are doing it, but just as I've spent entirely too much money on my wardrobe recently so I don't have to worry about whether my jeans look ridiculous (actually, I think that some of my jeans DO look ridiculous, but the places I go they seem to fit right in), at some level it would be kinda cool to sip on a beer and not have to worry about what I'd say if someone asked my why I'm drinking a Sprite.

Another potentially positive aspect of drinking is wine. There's so much history and science and current information about the process and the vineyards and the wines themselves... almost everything appeals to me about drinking wine except, well, drinking wine.

I'm not saying, here and now, that I'm giving up the ghost. I'm not ready to start boozing it up just yet. But as I continue to emerge from the post-separation funk (and feel like I'm really not just turning to alcohol to replace something else) and I continue to think about it, I think that it might happen. And happen relatively soon.