[Montaine's Scrapbook] The Cellar Door

[Phoenix]

In Which Jules Makes a Confession

[Montaine]

Cheers! Despite her recent, and might I add well-deserved, promotion, wonderful old Cas has continued to grade our threads in Zeltiva and we are, of course, forever thankful for that. One such thread is Stubborn Logic, a sequel of sorts to Intertwining Roots, in which Monty and Tock reunite and discuss that most favourable of topics: Pash. It all goes well and results in both characters getting thoroughly drunk, which leads us nicely to our topic for the evening, morning, afternoon, delete as appropriate: alcohol. I thought long and hard about what I should discuss next. The Edinburgh Fringe Festival was an obvious choice considering I am in fact writing this very scrap from Lothian Road in the heart of Edinburgh itself, but given that another thread of mine is waiting in the wings it made more sense to leave that topic for when I got home and had seen all of the comedians I was going to see. Though I suppose it wouldn't hurt to say now that I have seen four of five, and they were all fantastic. So, if I wasn't going to talk about that, I needed another topic. I had considered music. It is an important facet of many people's art and entertainment, though as anyone who knows me very well can attest it is not one of mine especially, but seemed worthy of discussion. However, ultimately I came to the conclusion that a more worthwhile topic was at hand. That is to say, I am currently drunk. Worry not, I am in control of my faculties to some extent, but I have little doubt that the befuddling effects of ethanol will make some difference to my writing. This is something of an experiment, if you will, for the more sober version of myself to see how the more inebriated version of myself communicates. I fear, however, that my diatribe will not possess my usual consistency and structure. I apologise in advance for any unexplained tangents, or if this is difficult to follow. I am not currently in the most well suited mindset to judge. Many societies suggest that alcohol is a negative thing. Inebriation is looked down upon, and with good reason. It is a drug, far more pervasive and addictive than many illegal narcotics in circulation today. I'm not fully aware of the comparative studies to ecstasy and marijuana, but am under the distinct impression that alcoholism is far more damaging than their effects. I am not, however, necessarily supporting a change in law in favour of the legalisation of such things, nor the banning of alcohol, as I am hardly in a position of any medical or legal expertise. This is simply one explanation as to the inherent problems that alcohol can cause. Given my current state as I write this, one can assume that I am not of the belief that alcohol should be illegal. This assumption would be correct. From a moral or health perspective, I suppose I should perhaps be in favour of sanctions against such action. Alcohol so frequently leads to problems, and the only benefits it provides is a certain amount of social lubrication. But these benefits have their own negatives to balance out besides the issue of alcoholism, that is to say hangovers. I am young in body, and a student, and as such I am contractually obliged not to have hangovers. Though once, when I consumed over half a litre bottle of vodka in one night I did spend the next day giving a handy demonstration of the human body's ability to regurgitate anything. I'm pretty sure I brought up a kidney in that particular adventure. Yet I cannot deny that the pros of alcohol seem to outweigh the cons on a case by case basis. Obviously certain people should not drink. Alcoholics, for one, and my mother who possesses a rather depressing allergy to alcohol. I regret that she discovered the somewhat detrimental effects of her condition long before I was sapient enough to be aware of when she was drunk. My father is arguably a reserved man when sober, but becomes positively chatty after a few glasses of wine; I would be exhilarated to witness my verbosely sober mother under similar circumstances. Hm, my segue light is flashing, I was talking about something else apparently...ah yes, outweighing cons. Alcohol makes one feel good. It makes one feel good in a way hard to describe to non-drinkers. I suppose it is similar for smokers. I don't smoke and I didn't drink until about a year ago, in my first year of university. I had drunk once before and found the experience underwhelming. I had a few screwdrivers, while my more alcohol tolerant acquaintances got so drunk that one of them peed in the shower. Needless to say, that experience didn't endear me to the substance. Another inherent problem with it is this: it tastes foul. Now I know that tastes vary from person to person. I am incredibly aware of this fact. I am a very picky eater, fussiest of the fussy, but even I cannot conceive of a person who actually likes the taste of alcohol. It is simply a means to a euphoric, drunken end. I can only tolerate, generally speaking, two types of alcohol: wine; and vodka mixed with fruit juices. It irritates me no end that my favourite alcoholic drink is also the campest one extant: the vodka cranberry. You might be able to come up with camper ones, but in my world of nerdy recluses this is about as camp as it gets. It occurs to me that I have rattled on a fair bit without addressing anything in particular, as one tends to typically do when drunk. The fact that a key aspect of this specific scrap was the inebriated nature of its author suggests that its meandering tone is an integral part of its success, I suppose. Needless to say I won't remember having written this come the morning, so that'll be a nice surprise. I'd request that the customary responses to my rambling scraps be written utterly pissed (read: drunk) for this particular entry, but I won't push it on you. Also, I think I corrected all the spelling errors, else every tenth word would have been a jumble of mismatched letters. So, um, cheers? Word of the day: toast, noun, cooked bread. -Monty

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Drunk Monty is a definite win!

You seem much like me when I'm drunk: still articulate, with a tendency to ramble. I found this post to be quite entertaining, and you made me laugh (which is a marked difference from the usual, more stoic and serious tone of your scrap, the "Dreaded Page Six" not withstanding).

On the subject of alcohol being illegal, in case you're not too familiar with American history (I can't say if you are, but since my own knowledge of British history is mostly limited to the Revolution and their involvement in the World Wars (events I'm only familiar with because of their overlap with American history), I'll err on the safe side and assume you're not much learned on the subject). In the early 1900's (I don't feel like googling the exact dates at the moment), our government tried banning alcohol. Nationwide. Not just by law, but by Constitutional Amendment, the highest legal authority we have. Which I find somewhat ridiculous, since the Constitution is meant to be about our RIGHTS, not about enforcing laws. But anyway, it proved so ineffective, and there was such an increase in crime (illegal alcohol smuggling), that it was repealed a few years later. Making it the only amendment to our Constitution to ever be repealed.

So. Yeah. People like to drink.

On another note, 'my segue light is flashing' is an EXCELLENT phrase. I'll have to remember that one.

On the subject of the bad taste of alcohol: biologically speaking, that's our bodies' way of saying "Don't drink this!" Since alcohol is, in fact, poisoning us. The effects of drunkeness are signs that the alcohol is having a negative effect on your physiology. One not at all dissimilar to inhaling paint fumes or other noxious substances. It's just a mild enough poison that we can get our bodies used to it, and unless you drink way too much at once, the negative effects are usually mild in the short term. Long term, of course, it leads to all kinds of problems (liver disease being the first to come to mind).

And while no, I wasn't drunk while writing this (I'm at work waiting for a pizza to cook so I can drive it to someone's house), I might consider adding a second post later tonight while drunk. Though I haven't been drunk since last Christmas, so no promises.

[Pash'nar]

oSo, I think I've read Stubborn Logic a couple of times now, just for the giggles. I try to think of other people, getting drunk in a bar, talking about Pash, and it entertains me greatly.

I don't want to quote the whole post, but this one is my favorite in the whole thread. I kept trying to imagine Monty squirming in his seat, torn between feeling jealous and guilty and confused all at the same time, hardly sober. And then I get to wondering when Pash will have a chance to share the more serious parts of his life with his unlikely friend and what that will be like.

And then, I scroll down a little and read this from wasted Tock and totally lose my train of thought entirely:

"Ya mean my Sailor Man done been hiccup done been the one what you's 'ad a 'ard on fer since ya were too young ta know what ta does wit' it?"

... among other things.

As a side note, I'm incapable of replying drunk since I'm still growing the second mini-human. And while I have no qualms about others drinking, I for the most part have avoided it because of alcoholism in my immediate family. That part of drinking is no fun, but is obviously a much deeper issue that is unrelated (for the most part) to casual, recreational consumption of alcohol which doesn't bother me.

Anyway, instead I suppose that next time Monty and Pash hang out, if there's enough alcohol involved, we can have some story time of a different nature than usual. And see what goes from there.

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

Yes, that thread was a blast. I had a great time with it. And, Tock is hardly 'ladylike' at the best of times (which is part of the subject of myself and Monty's latest thread, "The Meaning of it All"), but when she's drunk, she has an absolute sailor mouth (pun intended, Sailor Man!)

[Montaine]

Okay, this image is kind of big, but a friend shared it with me and it's kind of cool so I figured I'd put it here too.

Someone, in essence, made an instructional manual about me :

[Minerva Agatha Zipporah]

This explains so much about my life...

[Vhast]

I love this illustration. Jules and I were just talking about this exact same thing the other day. I too, am an introvert.

Nothing beats lounging in your favorite chair with a good book, beverage of choice, phone turned off, and no one else in the apartment/house to trouble you with senseless racket to get your energy back.

Thank you for sharing this!

[Naama]

Yep, that pretty much sums me up as well.

I get annoyed by being forced to go out because to me it's just a waste of my time unless it's something I particularly enjoy. (I don't like to go to parties and clubs, and dislike getting random invites from people unless they're my best friends.)

I also hate being bugged by family. It drives me up the wall. Grr, don't touch me, leave me alone. >:[

Thanks for sharing, monty.

[Seven Xu]

Well, it's that time again. Come in, come in, and settle down. It's season change in Mizahar and despite what you may have heard we are not entering Fall. I mean really, Autumn is such a great name, it ends in 'mn'! Anyway, nevertheless, it is that time of year when I sit back, fall asleep, and let someone else do the work for a change. I chose this season’s guest speaker for one simple reason: I forgot that I needed to find someone to do this and they were the first name I clicked on AIM. It was only fortunate felicity that my desperate clicking fell on the name of someone with whom I have a lot of fun, and an excellent writer to boot. I present to you our own half-spider-half-mope, that’s right, I give you…Seven! -Monty

Getting Back When Monty asked me to write this, I was flattered. Guest scraps are such a neat idea, I mean, where else would other people post thoughts and delightful rants if not invited by Montaine to speak in his scrapbook? Insults aside, it’s neat. Thanks for the soap box; I’ll treasure it for as long as I write this scrap. Because you want too many words from me, expect much rambling. It took me a while to come up with a proper subject. I didn’t want the subject to be too controversial, or negative, or weigh it down with too much of my own opinion. I also didn’t want to repeat what’s already been done, or what potentially may be done in this particular scrapbook in the future. That being said, I chose to scrap about nature. Why? Because fall is here and it’s beautiful, and my love for nature is a side of me that I don’t often let out all over Mizahar, and I know that Monty is horribly, horribly opposed to stepping outside the four walls of his off-green British dungeon. I was born in the country. The back country—the “down home”, population four-hundred, dirt road country. People have accents where I’m from that many in the city where I now live, only three hours north, would have difficulty deciphering. That being said, I really start to miss home when I spend too long away from it. There are too many people in the city (okay, so there are 600,000 people in my city and it isn’t huge but that’s too many) and I start to get “concrete anxiety” when I can’t walk out my front door barefoot and roll around in the grass. I’m not kidding. Go roll around in the grass, if you can. I’ll wait. Totally refreshing and awesome, right? Oh, you’ve got a little … right there … yeah. You’re good. When I was younger I’d go on regular camping trips, starting on Victoria Day weekend in May, usually going until snow fell in November, and usually hopping between tenting in the warmer weather and going to the grandparents’ cottage at a campground/cottage place in late summer and fall. Labour Day weekend was a huge weekend at said campground. Competitions were held all weekend, and you could win neat things and money. While I never won anything spectacular, I did participate in the various canoe races, lumberjack stuff (I don’t know what else to call the two-person sawing event, or who can boil this can of soapy water the fastest; shut up it’s fun), and fishing tourneys. There were also politically incorrect staged raids at night, men dressed as moose, and the burning of fake houses that amused any young child. But I digress. When I went camping at the end of July, it was like some great relief to be out of the city, but I’ve been stuck here since, nearly a month now, and I’m starting to feel the itch again. I was talking to Quasar yesterday morning about how she’s never lived in a place where the trees changed colour in fall, and she was asking me to describe it to her. I said “in a couple of weeks” … well, on my way to work this morning, I noticed what I probably didn’t notice before. Trees are changing now. I felt bad, like I was taking it for granted, because not everyone is fortunate enough to enjoy fall as those of us that live in cool and wooded enough areas can enjoy fall. So, tomorrow, I’ll be heading out of the city. Not far, but far enough, to an area that was levelled a couple of years ago by a small forest fire. I’ll be hiking for hours, and filling my boots (and later my freezer) with blueberries, and baking blueberry everything in the coming weeks. Word of the day: fall - the season of the year that comes after summer and before winter. -Seven