Friday, February 11, 2011

Sick

I'm sick. I haven't had a new beer in five days, so you know it's bad. The blog is suffering.

Things started with so much promise last week, when I drank a new personal favorite, Anderson Valley Hop Ottin' IPA and beer number fifty (milestone!), Samuel Smith Oatmeal Stout. But things took a turn on Friday morning, when I woke up with the realization that I was definitely losing the fight to a cold that I'd felt coming on all week. But I wasn't worried about it. I would take care of myself. I would rest. I wouldn't drink beer.

Then Casey proposed Happy Hour. And she validated my idea that beer would make it better. And since this whole blogging about beer idea was stolen from inspired by her in the first place, it's clearly all her fault.

(Casey's beer blog can be found here, by the way. Somehow I wasn't equally inspired to start running marathons.)

So a group of work friends and I headed out to Cantina after work. In a conscious effort to expand my beer adventures and branch out from ales, I ordered a Delirium Tremens. The waitress asked if I wanted 13, 16, or 23 ounces (at 8.5% ABV - is she nuts?) and I longed to be at a real beer bar. I know this is supposed to be one of the best beers in the world, but I found it too light and sweet for my taste. Next up was BBC Holidale. Nicely balanced, smooth, and malty, but with none of the big alcohol flavor I expect of a barleywine, I wasn't sure what to make of this beer. Last beer at the bar, Ridgeway Bad Elf, tasted like hops and Christmas. I headed out and met up with Aaron, grabbed a bottle of Opa Opa Red Rock Ale, and immediately recognized it was a bad idea. I drank exactly half the bottle so that it would count toward the list before crawling home to bed. (Good thing I made those rules last post.)

Since then my life has consisted almost exclusively of coughing, sneezing, literally blowing through at least four boxes of tissues, staggering through the work week in an overly medicated haze, and not drinking beer. The only exception was Sunday, because not drinking beer during the Super Bowl would be nothing short of un-American. I managed to put back a Harpoon IPA and Harpoon Belgian Pale Ale while watching the game, reminiscing of Wisconsin, and wondering how I could get my hands on some New Glarus beers this year.

But there's hope for me yet! In three hours I'll be on a plane headed to Southern California, where its sunny and warm and beer will get a second chance to make it better.

Beers Down: 56
Beers To Go: 309

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