Kilt

I’ve never been…”in”, “hip”, naturally cool.  In college, I really wanted to hang out in a coffee shop with the rest of the drama department, smoke, read antiquated Russian novels and drink coffee…really strong black coffee.

I physically can’t smoke, I suppose I’m happy now that I’m not a smoker, but at the time I really tried.  My body must have picked up on the whole arsenic thing and it just wasn’t having it. My taste buds didn’t cooperate with coffee either and Nabokov…eh, not so much.

Instead, I hung out with my much cooler, deeper, friends drinking tea and fanning second hand smoke.  Tea is not cool in college.  It’s cumbersome to make and there’s never the right stuff at a coffee house.  I really should have gone to school in England.  So, I was still with my group, but always just on the outskirts.  An image for most of my life really.

I’m a grown up now, and I’ve recently become much cooler.

Last week I found a beer, I’m going to start calling it “my beer” because I’m so excited.  It’s probably not cool to be excited, but I’m still way on this side of nerd so it’s okay.

I never liked beer before.  Not sure how it’s possible to be born Irish and not like beer, but I was that girl.  I drink wine or if it’s a bad day or I’m in Mexico, I’ll drink shots of tequila, but never beer.  Most of it is awful and I don’t understand the whole “cold beer on a hot day” or a beer after work.

Again, I’m not part of the longneck, frosty mug club, not cool.   But not any more, now I have a beer.  Kilt Lifter by Four Peaks.  It’s a local brewery, so that makes it even better.  This beer is creamy and yummy and my tastebuds don’t pick up that funky after taste most beers have.

Sort of sounds like I’m doing a commercial, but I’ve been beerless for so long I just can’t help myself.

I had it in a frosty glass and it was very good.  I think beer may hit me harder than wine and it does fill you up, so we’ll have to see, but the point is…I have a beer.  When someone asks, “What’ll you have?”  I can say, “Oh, I’ll have a kilt lifter.”

Silly, but sort of thrilling at the same time.

My thoughts from the laundry room.  Oíche mhaith (That’s goodnight if you wear a kilt, or you’re lifting one for that matter.)

2 thoughts on “Kilt

  1. Good thing the German side of you is coming out.
    Otherwise, you could be writing about discovering your favorite Irish whiskey and finding yourself on the spin cycle.
    Great Post.

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