Beer Goggles

Once upon a time, I was bit a drinker. Okay so I closed down the bar, but that is besides the point. A few amaretto sours or some other fruity chick drink made otherwise dull people more entertaining, stupid people seem smarter and some so-so guys seem absolutely spectacular.

Yep, I'm talking about the beer goggles. Before I was married and boring, I had quite a few mornings when the beer goggles made Friday seem way better than it felt Saturday morning. It was a world where I drank a lot and never got hangovers, where drinking beer upside down seemed perfectly natural. A land of tube tops and body glitter. A land I'm pretty glad I'm out of, but it was fun while it lasted.

What does this have to do with cancer, you ask? Apparently, there's some research that says alcohol feeds breast cancer cells. It's always been acknowledged that the sauce isn't GOOD for you, but feeding my cancer? Wow- that blows.

"We've known for some time that even moderate amounts of alcohol increase the risk. What's new is that this study shows alcohol speeds up the growth of any breast cancer cells that exist."

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/portal/main.jht.../ftdrink102.xml


Then again, almost everything we do can "cause cancer." Our air, food, cars, yada yada yada. I could go on a whole environmental rant. But don't take away my mojitos. Please!

It's a tough line to walk- that enjoying your life thing while doing all you can to prevent recurrence. It's a line we walk every day we decide to grab the regular milk cuz $5 for a small carton of organic milk is ricockulous. Or when we have that cheeseburger or take a nap instead of hitting the gym. There's a happy medium somewhere. A place where you don't have guilt over what you could have done differently. If I didn't toss back dozens of body shots off that random guy in Mexico, maybe I wouldn't have gotten cancer. Then again, I wouldn't have the great story that makes me chuckle even now. (it involves dancing on a bar, and a head injury, but trust me- it's freaking funny)

Thankfully, I don't drink nearly as much anymore. I prefer to remember when and who I fell asleep with. Treatment made me a lightweight, anyway. But I'm not going to turn down that strawberry daiquiri on a hot afternoon, or the Christmas morning mimosa. I want to live beyond breast cancer, but I still want to live, you know. So raise a glass and toast.

"To saying fuck you to cancer. And not letting it get in the way of having a life."

Gulp.