Saturday, May 15, 2010

Thank god for Advil


Pic taken at dusk. In that inbetween light, the roses look so other-worldly.

Not all hangovers are created equal, no they are not. In fact, though of course always the result of drinking too much, the severity and mood of every hangover seems quite different, at least to me.

One of the fortunate aspects of growing older is that it becomes increasingly difficult to drink enough to get a hangover. The headaches begin before the party ends usually, or I have the maturity or at least presence of mind to stop with the liquor and launch into a big glass of water before it's too late. When I tie one on these days, it's dainty - a pastel ribbon twisted into a pretty bow - as opposed to a noose made of rough, heavy rope, yanked tight around my head (which is what hangovers felt like during my early adulthood.)

Last night's festivities included some red wine which sounds quite civilized, doesn't it? I mean, we weren't drinking it straight from the bottle, after all. But then Manuel switched on some Brazilian music and began to dance around. The next thing I knew we were dancing and going on and on about how we would miss each other when I move out. It was sweet and sappy and very loving.

When I noticed John had decided that washing the dinner dishes was more entertaining than watching us dance, it occurred to me that perhaps Manuel and I had become a little more unglued than we suspected. Sure enough, this morning I'm gulping down Advil, large glasses of water, and I felt the need for a triple latte, too.



That said, this is a happy hangover, if that's possible. I don't feel remorse over getting a little bit carried away last night. Today is the ninth anniversary of my move into this house. Just as it was nine years ago, the birds are singing, the air is clean, a sparkling green crystal. The children are playing on the sidewalk and the neighbors are all out, pulling weeds or chatting.

When I moved to Tennessee Avenue, I had nothing, and I do mean NOTHING. I was scared, bitter, lost and desperate. After nine years, I've become part of the tapestry of Tennessee Avenue. I've watched the kids grow up and the parents grow older. I remember many of the old neighbors who have passed away or moved on. I hold so much of the recent history of this street. Indeed, my feet feel perfectly at home here on the brick sidewalks, tracing the same paths that citizens of Tennessee Avenue have followed for more than two hundred years.

It is understandable, perhaps even appropriate, to get a little sloppy at the idea of moving away from Tennessee Avenue on the eve of my nine year anniversary. OK, maybe not appropriate. OK. Mea culpa. Happy Saturday to all. Cheers!

22 comments:

ellen abbott said...

A safe haven for you and a nurturing space. It has done it's job and you are ready, poised to fly.

Elizabeth said...

The old bitter/sweet
excitement, renewal, tristesse
you make me want to move too.......
hm........

k-brow said...

I have a love-hate relationship with moving, I really do.

I am so much less alcohol tolerant these days that I rarely get hung over, though anything beyond a glass of wine or the rare tiny martini would do it for me, I imagine. I do remember once in college having a hangover that I cured by going for a long run. Those were the days!

Are you moving far away? Still staying in the Capitol Hill 'hood?

Barry said...

Nice to live in a neighborhood with a history, one where people stay long enough for you to watch the children grow and the parents age.

I'd drink to that, if I was allowed.

lakeviewer said...

All things come to an end; we must find new challenges to grow on.

Linda Sue said...

ow.
I realize that my poor old body can not tolerate alcohol anymore- maybe a margarita with a pile of beans and rice to lessen the effect...you are a better woman than I. Tristesse, great word from Elizabeth...mixed emo's. Exciting, can't wait to see your new digs.

Ronda Laveen said...

A lot of wine, a little dancing, some reminiscing and the knowledge of the fact that this move will be different. You aren't bitter, scared and alone. Sounds like you found stability and Tennesse Avenue. Does it get any better than that?

I have an anniversary today too! My 34th wedding anniversary. May 15, 1976. Wow, that sounds so long ago!

Susan said...

Best of luck, Reya. When I first got my computer, years ago, I scribbled all over the border of the monitor. One thing that stares at me everytime I sit down is this quote: "It is human nature to change. If we're not developing, we're deteriorating."
Here's to your development!

Reya Mellicker said...

Thanks to all!

In Chinese medicine they say that change is so intrinsic to health that if things don't change, illness will result.

Today Manuel and I have determined that the fairies got hold of us last night. There were only two empty wine bottles. That amount, shared among three people with an after dinner, should not have caused such silliness.

Yep. It's the fairies' fault. That's my story and I'm sticking with it!

Natalie said...

You are obviously loved, Reya. :)

lacochran said...

You're moving? I go off on vacation and everything changes. Do you have time for lunch some time so you can fill me in?

Mary Ellen said...

Hope the move is a positive one, to a neighborhood you will feel happy and settled in, with good birds, flowers, light, neighbors, and all that you have celebrated on Tennessee Avenue.

Nancy said...

It sounds like a very appropriate thing to do. Hope your headache clears out soon.

lettuce said...

you're moving! sorry I've got a bit out of touch. Exciting!

I only have to drink a couple of glasses these days, to feel just the hint of a hangover headache in the morning :o/

The roses look so beautiful. They are not quite out over here yet so seeing yours is a lovely prequel

Val said...

where to Reya? best of luck with the move - it is a big upheaval but can be energising and refreshing x

Val said...

where to Reya? best of luck with the move - it is a big upheaval but can be energising and refreshing x

Pauline said...

Moving house can be such a mixture of excitement and mourning. I've only moved once where there was nothing but pure joy at "getting out of there." Hope this move proves beneficial to you in all ways.

Mrsupole said...

A new place can always be so exciting. While leaving the old brings about so many memories, be happy in knowing that new is the beginning of so many memories. Soon you will be making friends around the new neighborhood and who knows what will happen.

Glad your headache wasn't too bad but always make sure you eat something when taking an Advil. It can tear up your stomach and cause ulcers, a problem worse then any hangover. Take the move slowly and stressfree, then all will go well. Plus since your have purged so much stuff that should really help.

You all should christen the new place with a new bottle of wine. Oh yeah! Life is great.

God bless.

Steve said...

Appropriate! Bravo for your celebration, and the exciting changes in your future!

Reya Mellicker said...

Steve if you approve, then all is well. Details on the new space as soon as all the details are worked out.

Merle Sneed said...

My best wishes. Being part of a community is so important to us human types.

Kerry said...

Oh it sounds like a lovely sweet night. Good for you.