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incandescensI don't usually feel "artistic", but I'm currently drinking absinthe, and really it deserves an adjective of its own. Absinthine? Absinthism was an accepted term for a type of insanity, though one suspects that it was used more widely than it might have been. Such a convenient catch-all.
My father attended a memorial service in Cambridge today, and he reported on the snow when he came back. It sounds beautiful, if inconvenient. Fortunately there weren't any major hold-ups on his journey (rail to London and then rail from there to Cambridge). It's ridiculous how a little snow can seize up most of Britain's transport network.
My mother tells me that the smell of aniseed is very strong. I would regret this, but, really, what's wrong with the smell of aniseed. It grows on one. And there's a fifth of the glass yet to go.
The kick comes after drinking it. The liquid is cool -- cold water, cold absinthe, sugar -- and sweet, but you feel the bite on the tongue and the roof of the mouth as you sip it. Then the warmth up through the bones of the face, and then you swallow, and no particular kick, but a few minutes later you might notice that things are a little more vague -- no, not vague, there's no blurring, but there's that slight sense of detachment, and the brain operating at new and interesting angles.
I never have more than one glass. (So far.) I've never got actively drunk on it, just mildly happy. It's not the swimmy sort of drunken happiness, though; not the feeling that you get after the third glass of wine or the second of brandy. (If you require far more than that to get you drunk, my admiration or commiseration.) That's because the absinthe contains both an upper and a downer, giving what I believe is known as the "speedball" effect, so you have the buzz while still believing you have the focus. (I would say "while still having the focus", but I am not one hundred per cent convinced of this.)
One of these days I'll write a character who actually drinks absinthe, so that I can make some use of this, but I don't have anyone who I can really justify it for yet. Tch.
Flashback to earlier entry with nun-running quote. So what's wrong with nun-running? I'm sure they'd fetch a good price. And monk-running, too . . . wait, we know where that one goes.
My father attended a memorial service in Cambridge today, and he reported on the snow when he came back. It sounds beautiful, if inconvenient. Fortunately there weren't any major hold-ups on his journey (rail to London and then rail from there to Cambridge). It's ridiculous how a little snow can seize up most of Britain's transport network.
My mother tells me that the smell of aniseed is very strong. I would regret this, but, really, what's wrong with the smell of aniseed. It grows on one. And there's a fifth of the glass yet to go.
The kick comes after drinking it. The liquid is cool -- cold water, cold absinthe, sugar -- and sweet, but you feel the bite on the tongue and the roof of the mouth as you sip it. Then the warmth up through the bones of the face, and then you swallow, and no particular kick, but a few minutes later you might notice that things are a little more vague -- no, not vague, there's no blurring, but there's that slight sense of detachment, and the brain operating at new and interesting angles.
I never have more than one glass. (So far.) I've never got actively drunk on it, just mildly happy. It's not the swimmy sort of drunken happiness, though; not the feeling that you get after the third glass of wine or the second of brandy. (If you require far more than that to get you drunk, my admiration or commiseration.) That's because the absinthe contains both an upper and a downer, giving what I believe is known as the "speedball" effect, so you have the buzz while still believing you have the focus. (I would say "while still having the focus", but I am not one hundred per cent convinced of this.)
One of these days I'll write a character who actually drinks absinthe, so that I can make some use of this, but I don't have anyone who I can really justify it for yet. Tch.
Flashback to earlier entry with nun-running quote. So what's wrong with nun-running? I'm sure they'd fetch a good price. And monk-running, too . . . wait, we know where that one goes.
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Date: 2003-02-01 06:38 pm (UTC)Hm. Chain smoking, beer swilling monk-running. ^_^
And now I shall hie off to bed with images of a very pretty, very evil villain who shares Homura's voice dancing in my head....
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Date: 2003-02-02 12:17 pm (UTC)Who's the villain, btw? :)
Re:
Date: 2003-02-02 12:21 pm (UTC)And yes, I should visit at some point. Or we could meet somewhere where absinthe is not frowned upon. ^_^
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Date: 2003-02-02 12:34 pm (UTC)I would offer to bring a bottle of the stuff (absinthe) next time I visit, but I think that'd probably break a US law or two, unfortunately.