She had two bottles delivered directly to my door within two hours. I told her my number one choice of drink is txakoli, the slightly effervescent and dry white wine from the Basque region of Spain. But nope, I had to be the most me possible. I could have been normal and said wine or even something slightly more specific like sour beers or maybe given a brand like my beloved Bud Light. When my now fiancé was first flirting with me, before we’d even met in person, she asked me what my favorite booze was. It meant put one or two cans of Coke in the fridge for later. The one fridge was always overfull and underchilled. A billion people shared the one fridge in this old house, which still had murals on its walls, depicting the original German owners’ family’s journey, or so that’s what someone drunkenly told me after they got Iced 5 at a party. I was sleeping with one of the boys, dating him even, which I continued to do even after coming out to him in a bizarrely public way as not bisexual but a lesbian. Senior year of college, I sometimes slept in an old, massive house full of boys plus two girls even though I didn’t live there. Her mother recently added me on Facebook, and a part of me wanted to say something, but I didn’t know what. We were once something like sisters, but then I lost track of Kelsey or she lost track of me or she left me behind or we departed each other. It sounds cliché to say the cans were the color of the sky on a sunny day, but they were. They come in silver now, but the cans then were a piercing blue. Hers had fewer rules than mine, and in fact, Kelsey was allowed not only to pack a Diet Pepsi in her bagged lunch for herself but also a second just for me. She didn’t even have an older sibling, but there was something about her that seemed further along than me, already middle schoolian in her knowledge of pop culture with swear words in it, in her tendency toward diet sodas, which I thought were only for moms. We were both fifth graders, but in my mind she was like a cool older kid. I hated its flavor, my palate forever sensitive to the gummy aftertaste of aspartame and other sugar substitutes. In fifth grade, I drank Diet Pepsi because Kelsey did. Here’s an incomplete personal queer history of carbonated beverages. 3īut enough about the literal history of carbonated beverages. Then some Swiss amateur scientist named Johann Jacob Schweppe with an awfully familiar last name swooped in and said let’s bottle and sell this shit to the masses. But more importantly, he invented carbonated water. He is often credited with the discovery of oxygen, which sure, important stuff. Mainly because he was highly critical of the Church of England. In the mid-18th century, a dude - ok, a scientist - named Joseph Priestley lived next to a brewery and became obsessed with the bubbles in beer and the gas that produces them. The Autostraddle Encyclopedia of Lesbian Cinema.LGBTQ Television Guide: What To Watch Now.
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