One of my favorite LJ ploys was to maximize the attention-garnering effect caused by my living in this exotic little country in Central Europe, about the size of Maine but oh-so-rich in history and culture. Mozart. Hitler (no, he wasn't German, he was born and raised in Austria). Chocolate cake. Sauerkraut. The Alps. Etc.

One quirky fact that caused lots of US-based comments was that the drinking age is 16 here (not really enforced) and that the soda vending machine in front of mom-and-pop store around the corner also offered canned beer. Well, not anymore. There wasn't anything about a change of regulations in the papers (there probably weren't any to start with) but some time after New Year's day, those beer cans were suddenly gone. Same with the soda machine in front of another grocery store in my neighborhood.

Official smoking policy is another matter entirely. Starting with January 1, all public cigarette vending machines have to be equipped with bank card readers for age verification. Don't ask me how it works. I suppose the user's age must be encoded somewhere on these cards. You don't have to enter a PIN code or something but it's still bothersome, especially since my source for smuggled ciggies (same brand but half the price) has dried up.

It's only the government trying to be supportive, I guess. Course it won't stop me from smoking, and the non-availability of vending machine beer only meant that I had to drive to a gas station (no such thing as a liquor store here) to buy a couple of bottles to curb a mild attack of hypomania yesterday. I don't even want to discuss the politics of addiction or, hell forbid, health issues. My doc sometimes accuses me of constantly trying to retreat into some sort of hedonist land of milk, honey, and oral fixation without accepting the fact that you have to earn the rent for your little mansion there as well (and even cleaning it up once in a while); of course he's too sophisticated for throwing around phrases like "facing up to the challenges of everyday life" or something like that. Alright, he doesn't exactly accuse me of anything either. Little hints cropping up during therapy talks, diagnoses of my Dad as a 'harmony addict' (harmoniesüchtig), or asking innocent questions about my net surfing time.

I'm not an entirely unrepentant sinner. I try to leave my ciggies in another room so I won't chain-smoke in front of this machine without even noticing. I've successfully limited myself to three beers a day, one for lunch, two (or just one) before bed. I'm not proud about my smoking, and less beer should work miracles for my weight. It's just that I seem to have achieved some sort of emotional euqilibrium after all these years, and I'm loathe to give it up, even if it involves admittedly unhealthy crutches. I got my first small taste of mania at 22 without even knowing when I was still exclusively depressed and gave up smoking for two days - I felt nervous & giggly all the time until I finally started again. I'm sure if I started experimenting with complete alcohol or internet withdrawal again, I'd find some other sort of mischief to keep me running smoothly - either that, or some 'interesting' mental/emotional states that I feel unable to handle at present.

Hope I'll be at least able to do some weightlifting at the gym tonight before having a brew or two.