I have been drinking Coors Light for years. It used to be a rare indulgence, but ever since the Great Emotional Train Wreck of 2012, there has constantly been beer in my fridge. A few months ago, I asked Shannon (my favorite beer expert) what one might graduate to from "piss beer," as it's affectionately known in the beer world. She made a couple suggestions and I did buy a different beer on that particular shopping trip, then went right back to my safety.
It's not that I won't drink anything else. I have found other beers I liked, such as Great Basin's Nevada Gold. I like to think of this as a huge step in legitimate beer. Coors Light has been a safe bet for a long time in terms of cost, taste, and carb count, but after a recent discussion with the dietitian, I think I can explore a bit more. I'm uninterested in wine, and while Southern Comfort and I shared many an interesting night, I am trying to be a good diabetic and she is a bad influence.
Tonight I bought Sam Adams' Boston Lager. I think this was one that Shannon suggested, but I'll have to double check with her. I know it was some Sam Adams beer. I was told a while ago that my Coors Light problem means I like lagers, which would explain why I hate every pale ale I try. I don't know that I will hate them forever, and like with Yorkshire Pudding, I will continue to try.
What I find interesting about my purchase is how it represents the way I incorporate change. I was just strolling along through the grocery store, thinking about buying some beer and just like that, I was done with Coors Light. I had asked questions some months before, had sampled other beers almost unintentionally, but there was never a conscious decision to switch. I could have guessed that I was interested in a change, but there was no decision- it just happened. Now, I could go back and revert to the old standard, but while I'm sure I will taste Coors Light again, I do feel like it will not be my preference.
There are a lot of things like this in my life: really comfortable habits that I continue on autopilot, but I feel really optimistic when something like this happens. It makes me feel like I am not stuck, like my life will not look the same in ten, five, or even one year from now. It makes me happy that I can surprise myself. I keep thinking about how much I love my apartment and how I don't want to leave it, but it is a fact that I will leave it eventually, and it is also true that it will not always meet my needs so perfectly.
Way back when I was 13, I went with Amy to visit her dad in California. Amy's grandmother made a dinner one night that was so tasty, we asked for seconds. Her grandmother asked us why we thought we needed more just because it tasted good. That stumped me. It seemed so obvious why we wanted more, but I have been mulling over that question for... how old am I now? I still can't say why, but I do know that leaving on a good note is a learned skill. I just had that lesson reconfirmed yesterday when I out-sushied myself. One more roll... was I insane? No more sushi without several people to share it with.
So Jennyway... I am pleased with myself at the moment. My apartment is clean and cozy, I have a small veggie lasagna in the oven, and I actually needed a bottle opener to drink my beer! It's a little intense, but good, and that's pretty much how I'd like to describe my life, so I guess I tonight is about making a toast to other surprises to come. Cheers.
No comments:
Post a Comment