living dangerously

I’m approaching one full year of trying to conceive. One full year in which, for the most part, I’ve lived like a nun. No drinking, no needle drugs[1], plenty of exercise, vegetarian diet, sex on schedule. Well, it’s time to get real. I’ve been at this almost a year and if I’m honest with myself, I know it might take yet another year[2] to make this happen.

So today I am making a decision. I’m sick of living like a prohibitionist (aside: I must not be the only one engaging in this illogical behavior?). Because I’ve been a vegetarian for 10 years and exercise is therapy-on-the-cheap, those things won’t change. And fine, if I’m being honest, exclusively-scheduled-sex ended long ago – cannot celebrate enough the benefits of spontaneity.

But about the drinking: I’ve never been a heavy drinker but, it turns out (deep insight here), a social beverage now and again is actually pretty great. Wine with dinner? Cocktail after a tough day? An eye-opener first thing in the morning? A beer with the game (who am I kidding, I don’t watch any sort of “game”)?

I have no idea why I’ve been so incomprehensibly paranoid about drinking – even on days when I literally could not be pregnant, I still refrain. (The arm-chair psychologist who lives in the back of my head suggests that it’s my way of “taking control” in a situation where I basically have none. Whatever.).

The point is, I’m willing to cop to my irrational behavior because C has gotten into making some excellent, winter-citrus-inspired cocktails and damnit, I’ve had enough of being a teetotaler. Not to mention that every drink politely declined in mixed company – combined with the ohmygod-Clomid-bloating-weight – becomes further proof to my in-the-dark friends that I must be pregnant. Which, while kind of entertaining, is really just sad – boy will they be disappointed in 9 months.

There’s also this, helpfully pointed out by a very insightful friend: because I am *cough* brave and, ahem, strong, I remained (relatively) emotionally stable during a week in which I both recovered from a chemical pregnancy AND confronted the end of 30 Rock.[3] So I’m drinking. Because I earned it.

Without further adieu, the drink that makes drinking again much more worthwhile (after the jump).

Rosemary Infused Blood Orange Cocktail[4]

(the drink was pretty, too)

We get really into winter citrus around here. Oranges, blood oranges, pomelos, tangerines, grapefruits, clementines. As the family mixologist (that’s a thing, right?), C recently put together this little number. Before then, we had never “infused” anything – let alone a cocktail. But don’t be scared. It’s deceptively easy and the result is a refreshing, sparkly, shock to the system.

(Adapted slightly from 101cookbooks)

[For rosemary infused syrup]

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup water

1 heaping Tbsp. fresh rosemary leaves

           

3 Tbsp. gin

3 Tbsp. fresh squeezed and strained blood orange juice

1-2 tsp. rosemary syrup

sparkling water (we used lemon-lime Poland Spring)

To make the syrup, put the sugar, water and rosemary leaves in a small pot. Simmer the mixture for about 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from the heat and let it infuse about ten more minutes. Strain the mixture and set aside.

Fill a tall glass three quarters of the way with ice cubes. Add the gin, fresh juice, rosemary syrup and top it off with the sparkling water. Garnish with a thin slice of blood orange.

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[1] Totally kidding, mom.

[2] What’s that, you say it could take several years? No thank you. I am not yet ready to confront that potential reality.

[3] The end of 30 Rock means other, more personal things for this author. No less than two TSA agents, one remedial-puppy-school teacher, one law school professor and several close friends and family members have said I look just a touch like Tina Fey (uh, this version?). But without Tina gracing the airwaves on the weekly, how will anyone know that I, anonymous lawyer-blogger, look like comedic royalty? Devastating self-absorbed is the word that comes to mind.

[4] Thoughts about these recipes? Are they interesting? Worthwhile? Confusingly unrelated to the rest of this blog? Your candid feedback is welcome. No, really.