It was recently brought to my attention that I look great drunk. I don’t mean to brag…

OK, stop it. I didn’t say I’m more attractive when you’re drunk. I have no idea whether or not your alcohol consumption has any direct or indirect link or influence (so to speak) on my appearance or your perception of my appearance. I’d like to think that a few drinks in either direction wouldn’t entirely change how I look to you.

But, if a drink helps, well, then drink up!

This isn’t to say that I think I look awful sober or anything. It’s just that I look more attractive while intoxicated. It’s true. Pictures don’t lie and while flipping through hundreds of them (not all of myself, I promise) the other day, I started seeing the pattern.

Granted, it took me a while to identify the actual pattern because I’d had a few drinks (not true).

Anyway, the photos in which I was either holding a drink, in a setting where drinks were being served or clearly slightly-to-somewhat-more-than-slightly (I’m 1/2 Irish, but aren’t we all?) inebriated were notably more attractive than the no drink, dry setting and sober selections.

I even asked my husband to confirm my theory and (after first confirming that it wasn’t a “does my butt look big in these jeans?” type trick question) he actually kind of agreed.

What can I say? I’m a good-looking drunk! It seems, the alcohol may have given me a glow of sorts, an unexplainable airy quality, a certain gin-es sequa, if you will.

In layman’s terms, I looked hot.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and when I was beholding a margarita (on the rocks with salt, please!), I was looking (and feeling) quite fine.

It’s hard to say for sure, but I imagine this phenomenon probably has more to do with the increased level of confidence and reduced inhibition that comes with having a cocktail (or two) than the actual alcohol itself. And, while I admit there weren’t any photos of me stumbling, falling to the floor, completely shit-faced, ‘where the hell am I and how did I get here?’ drunk, I doubt those pictures would have been as attractive. I probably wouldn’t have saved them either.

While few and far between, I’m sure I’ve had those moments (i.e., college, 21st b-day, every St. Patty’s Day and New Year’s Eve for as far back as I can recall, my NBA going away party, my 20s). Luckily, my friends and family were never so mean as to snap and save blackmail shots of me. Or, maybe they were too drunk to remember where they put them? Either way, phew!

Now, before you jump to any conclusions… I’m not planning on adding beer run to my weekly To Do list or making daily trips to the liquor store to improve my outward appearance. I have enough to do already, and besides, it’s just not a priority for me these days.

Being a mom, my outward appearance is more about sweat pants, headbands and hair clips. I’m satisfied with that. My satisfaction increases exponentially when I manage to make it through a whole day without getting pooped on, peed on, or covered in apple juice. But, had I discovered this link between beauty and binging 10 or so years ago, perhaps I’d have been singing a different tune. Of course, I didn’t need a reason to drink back then.

These days, the drinks are even fewer and further between (and thank God, so are the pictures). As a full time writer and stay at home mom, coffee is more often my beverage of choice (and necessity). Don’t get me wrong. I still enjoy the occasional cocktail and the even-less-occasional buzz. But, now, I’m happily married and the mommy to a very sweet and mischievous toddler. Most days, I’d choose a shower or a nap over a drink.

Besides, since becoming a mom, my tolerance (the one I worked on for many, many years) has diminished. Back in the day, I was proud to say I could hold my liquor. Hell, I could hold yours too! To this day, every time I see an ice sculpture, I remember the days when I’d happily step up to the ice luge, ready and willing to take a shot of Jim Beam. Yep, I was that girl! I laughed at the notion of being hung over, and I could drink most of my friends, guys included, under the table (or even over the table when properly challenged).

It’s been a long time since I’ve attended a party with an ice luge. In fact, the last seven parties I’ve attended each had balloons, bubbles, ice cream and cake instead. I honestly can’t recall the last time I was challenged to a drinking game of any kind. And, that’s OK!

I’ll happily work the bubble machine, instead of the funnel. I’ll make cupcakes instead of Jell-o shots. And, as for “quarters,” well, it’s no longer a game. It’s a choking hazard. We try to keep those and all small objects as far out of our daughter’s reach as possible.

These days, I have a completely different list of priorities. I’m someone’s mom! She tops that list, and you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing.

Plus, I’m a much cheaper date. I still look great, but it only takes one drink to get me there.

Cheers!