Iced Tea and Diet Coke

I just got back from a fantastic weekend in Florida. For one thing, spring is abominably late coming to New York this year. Even though the daffodils are blooming in the park, there's a constant, miserable chill in the air. Second, after a recent family trip to Spain that was heavy on drama and pork products but light on relaxation, I needed the proverbial "vacation from the vacation." Third, this was the perfect opportunity to try out my New Lifestyle. No, I'm not renouncing material possessions and shaving my head. I am, however, shelving alcohol for an indeterminate period of time. Why? Lots of reasons, not all of which I'm ready to get into. The gist of it is pretty simple: I feel a lot better when I don't drink. You know that whole "tolerance" concept? My brain does not recognize this concept. Most of the time I can drink a glass of wine at dinner and be fine. In fact, nine times out of ten when I drink, nothing happens. But the tenth time, all hell seems to break loose: I fall over (see: last summer; in front of Pianos; toppling over onto parked bikes), I puke and my friends have to take care of me (see: New Year's Eve; West Village sidewalk; barely after midnight); or--best-case scenario--I start texting people (read: men) I should not be contacting (read: booty-calling). My hangovers are miserable, I hate losing out on sleep, and I'd much rather ingest the calories in chocolate or cheese form. So gradually it has become pretty obvious: Why drink at all?

Granted, sometimes it seems like this city oozes alcohol from every pore and orifice and drain pipe. It's hard to escape the Friday night bar outing, the Tuesday happy hour, the bloody-mary Sunday brunch. Drinking is a convenient excuse for practically every event. Friend's band is playing a show? No thanks, unless there's free or cheap beer. Watching the game? How can you even think of doing that without a beer in your hand and a six-pack in the fridge? Birthdays: Prime reason to get drunk! Even more than the alcohol itself (for most people, at least), it's about the Tribe mentality of drinking. So, for me to step outside of that tribe potentially means feeling left out. I have great friends who ostensibly don't care if I'm drinking toilet water as long as I grace them with my presence. But how much fun is it gonna be if I'm the only one sober?

The answer is, we'll see. But so far so good. The experiment began this weekend, where I managed to get through the triple whammy of Obnoxious Flight Delays, Beach Vacation, and Open Bar at a Wedding without any alcohol. I stuck to Diet Coke and iced tea. Here's what I did: I danced my ass off at the reception. I bought a great pair of sunglasses. I laid out on the beach. I got sunburned. I stole Bulgari (excuse me, Bvlgari) toiletries from the hotel maid's cart. I survived a wardrobe malfunction. My fears about being branded with the Outcast iron at the wedding because I wasn't boozing it up were totally unfounded; in fact, I don't think anyone even noticed. And here's what I didn't do: I didn't send out a single embarrassing text message, I didn't fall over, and I didn't wake up with any hangovers. I don't expect that every social occasion will be this easy or fun, but this weekend made me optimistic about my prospects.