43. Breaking the seal

I’m not drunk, but I was like ten minutes ago before I went pee. Too much information? Well that’s what I’ve been thinking about. Why does drinking alcohol make you hafta pee so much? The logic in me says, “Well any liquid you input will have to output eventually.” Yeah, sure, but how come it feels like we pee way more than we drink?

Well, this is because alcohol is a diuretic.

Other diuretics include: coffee, cranberry juice, green tea, and water.

A diuretic tells your kidneys to clear out your bladder a lot more often. Your kidney says, “I just went pee like five minutes ago,” but your brain doesn’t care. Your brain thinks you’re doing this on purpose. It’s only doing what it was designed to do. The heavy intake of alcohol is literally telling the kidney to stop absorbing liquid and to flush it out as soon as possible. This is done, says research, by reducing the production of the vasopressin hormone.

This is why we try so hard not to break the seal.

There’s nothing worse than having to pee every five minutes. It sucks. On top of that, you risk the chance of dehydration, which doesn’t bode well with anyone’s plans for the evening.

Anyway, the point of this thought is to encourage everyone to drink more water. Drunk or not, water doesn’t encourage your kidneys to flush your bladder every ten minutes. Drink enough water and yes, you’ll hafta pee soon enough, but it keeps your vasopressin hormones alone. And when you are drunk, it helps balance out your kidneys and keep you away from the bathroom and more involved with whatever party, concert, or solitary moment you’d rather pay attention to.

I’ve had my fair share of drunk nights. I know the curse of the broken seal.

It’s our body’s way of telling us that we’re on track to have a wild night we’ll never remember. Drinking water might not help you steer clear of repeated visits to the toilet, but it’ll at least keep you hydrated and prevent a hangover.

Drink safe, friends.

27. Alcohol

It’s strange to think that there was a day in my youth when beer was the most disgusting thing I’d ever encountered and it baffled me how my parents could drink such a thing. What were they, crazy? Might as well be chugging barrels of Elmer’s glue. There was this red liquid called “wine” that felt like a tingly fruity punch to the mouth and made your insides go all warm like the inside of a toasted Pop Tart. I stuck out my tongue at these adult beverages, shunning them like taxes and full-time jobs.

Then I grew up.

And there came a day, sometime in college, when after a hard day of working at the coffee-shop, there was nothing better than coming home to or going out to get a nice cold beer. Not a Coke, not chocolate milk, not a glass of water… No. Beer. In my belly. Now.

Two things are intriguing about that evolutionary leap:

1. My parents were right all along.
2. People change.

My mom used to love clams, then, one day, she became allergic to them. As a kid, my sister’s first taste of wine was quite a similar experience to mine, but someday she’ll sit down with a nice Italian dinner or a sappy chick-flick, and a glass of wine will just feel right. I mention this because I’ve learned of an important facet of the human condition: We can hate something for a long time, then turn around and love it. We can love something for a long time, and turn around and hate it. This can happen overnight or over a summer, sometimes by our choice, sometimes due to outside circumstances. The point is, nothing is forever.

Your admiration for Pabst Blue Ribbon will not be the same in ten years.

With beer, I’ve gone through a fluctuating relationship, at first swallowing any drunk-inducing brew available, now a bit more refined in my choice of hops intake. With wine, I’ve found my favorites, but I still like anything with a neat label on the bottle. With hard alcohol, we got off on a rocky start, and there was some vomiting, and we didn’t speak for a while, but ever since a semester abroad in Istanbul, we’ve been getting along much better. People change. Or, to be more specific, our tastes change. This is part of growing up.

Your admiration for anything will change. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a dozen years. Whatever you’re doing right now, whatever you enjoy, whatever you hate, whatever you’re afraid of… None of that will exist in the same way tomorrow. We’re always changing. We’re always growing.

Grab a beer. Pour some wine. Order a round of shots.

Let’s drink to Now.

Today is the last day you’ll be who you are. Tomorrow you’ll start becoming someone totally different.