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Exceptions are allowed

Half a solo red cup of beer. I had that tonight. Technically, a blue cup, but "solo blue cup" sounds wrong.

I was at the second anniversary party of Southeast Barber Co., where I get my haircuts, founded by the guys who ran the Heads High barbershop I was going to for years, even before I moved to the neighborhood near it. It's a good place run by good people (and I like that Southeast Barber Company has enough of a relationship with the gallery that took over the old Heads High space to have fliers for its shows at the new barbershop), and we were in the mood to celebrate.

That beer was my first drink since a glass of wine I got from my Uncle Bill Paulson, a winemaker in the Columbia River Gorge, back last summer. Before that, I hadn't had a drink of any type for a while. ("Drink" as in alcohol: if I weren't drinking anything at all, I'd be dead. There. Satisfied, pedants?) Here's why: sometime in the past couple of years I realized I hadn't had a drink in a while, And I decided Okay, I'll wait to get a drink until I've gotten a new job.

This has been a good plan. It's one of many ways to remind myself of what my current goal is, to work again. I also felt okay with making this exception tonight, and back in the summer. I had the drink, I enjoyed the warmth, I enjoyed the party...both before and after my drink.