Whiskey gingers: My beloved

The only thing that makes the feeling of getting off of a week-long duty stint full of students who should know better but just can’t help themselves feel more like euphoria is the stiff drink I get to have when I go home after passing off the duty phone.

Tonight’s poison: A tall, dark, and handsome whiskey ginger.

In the words of Hannah, this is the drink that makes my world go ’round.

Sure, sure, I talk about the beauty of a good IPA with good friends, and at some point in the past five years I’ve gotten over my (well-deserved) fear of tequila, and, though it’s been years and years since I’ve had one, there’s still a special place in my heart for vodka/crans.

But the drink that I continue to put on a whiskypedestal time and time again starts with a strong pour of Jameson followed by a splash of Canada Dry (because anything else is inferior, and you all know it (even though I’m upset with Canada Dry right now for their support of the Salvation Army (but that’s another issue for another blog post))).

And maybe had I not gone to Ireland and drank the elixir straight from the fountainhead, I wouldn’t have the appreciation and love for Irish whiskey that I do right now.

And maybe I’d always feel like my life was missing something.

But I guess we’ll never know.

So tonight, I’m working on my second whiskey ginger and loving the way the world feels as it turns.

Until tomorrow,

slánte! xx

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