So I'm here, finishing up my homework for the night. Another class in its final week - a few more posts, a short good-bye and hello to the next group of students.
And now I'm drinking screwdrivers, wishing I had grenadine, because I have the tequila and would like to make those magically-colored tequila sunrises that were such a pivotal part of my late teen years (when I was too young to really be drinking but looked old enough to make it into bars when the drinking age in my state was 18.)
Even without the tequila and grenadine, the taste of the orange juice mingled with the inner heat of the alcohol brings me back to drinking at clubs miles away from my home; places where no one knew me, where I could get wild and be myself.
Here I am some years later, wishing I could get back there. Is that possible?
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