| October 21, 1999
Make Mine A Double
I want a drink.
Specifically, I want a gin martini. A double, or maybe a triple. Or a quadruple. I don't care.
I don't care what variety of gin, or what brand name, or whether it's shaken or stirred, dry or wet, yin or yang ... just so long as it's strong, and it's ice cold, and it's served in one of those fancy-pants little martini glasses.
(Or in an I.V., maybe.)
And don't forget the olives: I want at least four of them. No. Wait. I want eight of them. The olives are the best part, especially after they've been marinating in the gin and vermouth for fifteen seconds or so. As a matter of fact ... forget the martini. Give me a bucket of gin-and-vermouth-soaked OLIVES. Just so long as I can eat enough of 'em to get that warm, fuzzy, pit-of-the-stomach, forget-your-troubles c'mon-get-happy feeling.
And just so long as I can forget that this crappy, ridiculous day EVER happened.
blurb #1 will go HERE: yep ... that's it. that's all i have the *juice*
for tonight. don't panic. i'm fine. i work for a raving lunatic, and
i've had a couple of pretty awful days, right in a row. [he hands me a
list of ten telephone numbers, saying that i need to get EVERY
SINGLE ONE of these people on the phone right now
for an incredibly important phone conference ... and then he leaves
the office for the day. the whole week has been like that.]
self-important blurb #2 -- probably having something to do with the WEATHER: california actually DOES have autumn, i am pleased [and astonished] to report. details to follow, this weekend.
special *howdy* to: anyone who reads this journal entry and feels compelled to worry. don't. i know that craving a martini -- and actually stopping at the black & white for gin and vermouth -- are two entirely different things. i'll be ok.
here's where i'll ask
a *relevant* question:
amazingly profound thought of the day: When anyone announces to you how little they drink, you can be sure it's a regime they just started. ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald ~