Politics, Beer, & Theatrics

Ah, Saturday.

Two cups of coffee, and I have a strange mix of fandom stuff and politics rolling around my head. Mom and I had a chat this morning about President Bush, the Iraq thing, the "war on terror" and the Patriot Act II. I'm angry and I'm scared, and for the first time in a while I'm almost ashamed to be American, ashamed that I answer to that name when, to the rest of the world we're starting to look like a bunch of paranoid, howling fanatics.

I think I'm going to hook up with the local anti-war protesters. It's time. I've had it.

And that's enough of that, because I don't want to end up a ball of anger for the rest of the day.

I'm having trouble wrapping my brain around the theatrical_muse challenge for the week: Is there ever any reason to get blindingly drunk? I envy the mun behind londo_mollari right now. I mean, I can't see irina_derevko as a heavy drinker; hell, I can't quite see her really drunk, though maybe... And shadow_anna? Hell, she's dead.

There's only one way I can think to do this, and I can't do it now, in the half hour I've got before we're heading out to the library.

What I need to do is just get into character and start writing- well, channeling, I think, for this. Write for a while, and then ask Anna, and ask Irina- hit them with the question, and see what they say.

I know what I'd say, but that's me. I don't drink a lot, which I guess is what happens when your father's an alcoholic and the same genes are in your mother's family, too. I'll have a drink now and then, with friends or with dinner, but not often. The most I ever drank was before Michael and Jonni left town. Michael used to pour the stuff into me, and Jonni used to work as a bartender, and made some very cool stuff. But even with them, we didn't always drink. Sometimes we had nothing stronger than Kool-Aid, and we had the best time...

Probably the closest I ever got to being really drunk was their 4th of July party, the summer we all worked the fireworks booth in the sweltering Fresno heat, cooking in our little box in the Wal-Mart parking lot. By that point we had all more than earned the right to get drunk. (Although as an aside, beer and fireworks really do not mix, and we were all a little put out with the guy who thought it'd be cool to toss a lit firework up into the air... we took away his lighter after that, 'cause, um...no.)

And even that night, I wasn't what you'd call blindingly drunk. With my prescriptions, I'm not supposed to drink at all, so the little bit I have now and then hits me pretty hard. That, and I'm a small person to begin with, so... I know my limits, and I'm careful not to hit them.

But that being said, I really could have gone for some alcohol over the holidays, with my relatives. Nobody drinks at my grandmother's, and maybe it's for the best- the Goddess only knows what they'd say if they got good and drunk, or what they'd do, but sometimes they seem so uptight, I think a drink or two maybe wouldn't kill them.

What the hell do I know, though? Maybe boring and tense is better than...not. *shrugs*

And I should spam you guys with some fanfic, or something, but I'm too lazy to go and scare it up right now. Alias stuff is in Irina's journal, Babylon 5 is in Anna's. I'll post them to the sites when I get a chance, and when I remember.