1. there comes a moment in one's drinking, when a certain level of clarity is reached. whether this is actually clarity or a muddled drunk version thereof is completely beside the point - it feels clear, and one can see things through it, which is good enough for me.
2. i am shy. i hate talking to people whom i don't know. sometimes i hate talking to people i know. i don't like all people i know and for them i require alcoholic lubrication.
3. it makes me feel good. it makes me feel sexy, lucious, lovely and smart. it makes me feel happier. i know this sounds sad, but there it is folks, the truth.
4. sometimes it makes me write poetry which, when viewed in the cold harsh light of sobriety, tends to suck, but not always.
5. it makes music better, though not nearly as good as herb, but herb is not always readily available or safe (especially during our sojourn in that little country down south, where i routinely had fearful visions of fully armed commando types swarming our place were i to have even a puff - such is my canadian paranoia about the usa)
6. it makes philosophical discussions with people whom i like even better.
7. did i mention how good it makes me feel? if you can hit that plateau of a good buzz, and maintain it with well paced glasses of wine, you are flying. one thanksgiving at tony's i had the buzz on for several good hours, before succumbing to sloppy drunkenness (the typical end point for our lovely annual thanksgiving celebrations)
8. blerk. the fount of inspiration runneth dry - must get another drink