Throwin’ Up

I have always been a terrible drinker. Since my very first sip, barfs were inevitable and somehow never a deterrent. My mom would drink a glass of wine, my dad a glass of wine, but drinking was never a prominent factor my childhood, nor was smoking or drug use. This was during the Just-Say-No days, and my parents were for all intents and purposes healthy thinkers and doers, having been raised by relatively healthy thinkers and doers themselves. There was no turmoil in my household that was caused by substance abuse and for that I consider myself lucky.

The kids from my high school were very sophisticated and parties tended to feature marijuana over alcohol, but I still wanted to try before I got to college, because I knew that I would have to go to college. My best friend and I would raid the half jewish liquor cabinet in my house and the full jewish liquor cabinet in hers. I would pick something, plug my nose and take it down. Her dad sometimes quit smoking cigarettes and so I would try smoking and inevitably barf. Peppermint Schnapps with Coke, things like that. I remember we had Godiva Liquour.

I went to a private but decidedly not liberal arts midwestern college a few hours south of Chicago. My parents (my mother) made me go to college, and she made me go to that one. I am pretty sure she selected this particular school because my boyfriend at the time went to University of Illinois, which was an hour away by bus. I couldn’t have gotten into U of I if my life had depended on it, because my gpa couldn’t have been higher than 2.1– not that I remember specifics but I do know it reflected 4 years of daily theatricals, much suffering and subsequent rebellion. She full-on ignored any offensive I put out, so trained to parent me towards marriage, becoming a teacher like her, home ownership, and my own parenting. It was like a line on a running track. You may know there are other lines but those are reserved for the other people.

So after 18 bewildering years in a very upper class leafy Jewish suburb north of Chicago, I was placed in setting where people had straight and even blonde hair and blonde EYELASHES and American-made cars. Some had acne and some didn’t even know ANYONE at the ivy leagues and a lot of people were bi-ii-iig.

I had never met people who were farmy. It never occurred to me that there were Irish and Italian! I’m pretty sure these facts were lost of my mother too. These people had never heard of a matzoh. My mom, of course, ‘advised’ me (she did so much of this) to rush a sorority. It was the jewish one, but here at this University even the Jewish one wasn’t totally Jewish. Well, It was like half. Just like my home.

I learned about Catholic School and Kegs. I did beer bongs of Milwaukee’s Best. And I would barf and I would keep on going. SO what? This was so prevalent that when I would walk up the four flights of my dorm stairwell I would turn Right to the bathroom before turning Left to my room.

And this was really the beginning of my life. 1997 was my first year of internet service, my first email address (gr8ful1@camelot.bradley.edu) and first first dip into adulthood. Only later did I learn that I can’t tolerate beer because of my Celiac Disease, but what of it? It was barf and me, me and barf, from years 18-37.