I still remember my first beer. I was 17, and visiting a sorority for a pre-rush weekend. Rush is the autumn body count when sororities compete for new members. The weekend I went to was kind of a preview in the spring of 1975. I got invited by the Chi Omegas because my mom was affiliated with them when she was in college. We must have done something other than party, but that's chiefly what I remember because it was also the weekend I got my first hangover. I wandered around the Friday night outdoor parties with a plastic cup of beer in my hand, meeting cute college boys and figuring that if I felt this good on two cups of beer I'd feel twice as good on four cups. Ever since then, a keg of Budweiser smells like liberation and retribution to me.

Now I categorically refuse to drink bad beer, but there was a time when I'd drink anything to get a buzz. My family, being religious teetotalers, didn't have any friends who drank. I was treated something like the preacher's kid at school when it came to illegal drinking parties because everyone on that small island knew my folks were religious teetotalers. I still resent never once getting to go to a kegger in the woods, you know. Once I got to college and had access to the parties I was reckless. Unfortunately, alcohol never was my kind of buzz. Beer was too filling and smelled like old tennis shoes. Hard liquor generally made me sick to my stomach. Wine was unpalatable; I just couldn't drink it. Of course, I would drink it if that's all there was, but I was always sorry and always swore never again. For years, I assumed all wine tasted like Annie Green Springs which was all we could afford in college.

I have a pet theory which is that there's the perfect buzz drug for every body chemistry; at least one, if not more, that makes you feel really good with no particular bad effects until you slide down the slippery slope away from moderation. Alcohol doesn't work with my chemistry. I get sick fast, and the buzz isn't worth it. Speedy drugs were a favorite with me, and I tolerated them rather well, but they were expensive and I was always pretty broke in the 70's. I've smoked cigarettes off and on since 8th grade whenever I want to feel like I'm mad, bad, and dangerous to know. It's all for effect, though, as I never have gotten anything like the energy lift most smokers seem to get. Obviously not my drug. Marijuana was my drug of choice, and I really miss smoking it, but I haven't touched the stuff since September 7, 1984.

Yes, I remember the last joint just as clearly as the first beer, and not because it's more recent, either. It was a pretty big deal to stop, cold turkey, and change my lifestyle. I decided to go into therapy instead of running from my problems (which happens to be the main reason I was doing drugs). I think it was a wise decision, but I mean it when I say I still dream I can smoke pot again without any repercussions. I also tend to hang out with the pot smokers at parties; old habits die hard and I like being around it even if I can't partake. Unlike beer, I like the smell of marijuana still. It smells like comfort and relief to me.

Sometimes it's really boring being an upright citizen, but at least I have an interesting past. I drink coffee; it's my only vice now. That, and telling rambling stories.