Weekend charter: Drinks anyone?

Drinks, anyone?

OK, so I’m the one who suggested this week’s theme and I realize now it does not make me look so good. But hey, I am what I am (I can hear you sing, don’t deny it) and now that my sister tried to make you think she’s some sort of angel on earth, I’ll be the little devil. I don’t care how unpolitically correct it’s going to sound, so there you go : I like to drink and I don’t really get people who don’t, but I like to enjoy all the pleasures life can give me, so... I like wine, red especially, even though as I grow old, I slowly drift towards rosé in the summer and white for the aperitif.

But what I really love are cocktails. They look gorgeous in their large glasses, with ice and sometimes, when you’re lucky, an umbrella (eh, eh, as Rihanna would say). My favourite is the caïpirinha, a very dangerous mixture made of cashaça, a Brazilian alcohol, lime and cane sugar. I’ll always remember the first time I tasted one. I was in Cuba and, well, actually, I don’t remember much except from the next day when I woke up with a massive headache and walked to the restaurant through the hotel hall facing smiling faces. I think I even heard someone congratulate me, but I chose not to ask why. A girl has her dignity.

Once more, I was supposed to be a real reporter and take you to a new Parisian bar where you can create your own cocktail and name it after yourself “Little Miss Perfect”, your former boyfriend “Stupid Troll” (sounds good, doesn’t it ?) or your cat “Gudule”. I think all cats should be called Gudule. Dunno why. My cat’s name is Zoe, though. Anyway.

Isn’t that great ? Isn’t it way better than naming a stupid star no one will notice ? They’re called Le Pixel Bar, it’s the 6^th arrondissment . I can actually hear the oohh’s and aaahh’s of our non French readers. Yes, the 6^th, the Latin quarter. Saint Germain des Prés, Rive gauche. Even I think it’s romantic, and I’ve lived here forever.

After trying lots of combinations, I wanted to take you and a few girlfriends at the Wagg to shake our booty (I like Beyonce more than I like Rihanna, after all) but guess what, it never happened. And this time, it wasn’t my sisters’ fault. I got sick. As in, really sick, couldn’t eat, couldn’t drink water, nothing, but since I lost 3 kilos, it’s OK. I’ll live.

To make it up to you, and to show you how professional I am, I’ll go to the Pixel Bar and try all the cocktails on the menu pretty soon. I’ll do my best to drag sister3 so that she can take pictures. I’ll write all about it, it’ll be fun. The night will be glorious, and so will be the hangover, I guess. But hey, let’s live a little.

Marianne (who cannot post today because she is on strike so is entrusting her sober older sister to do for her).