Absinthe Mixes Well with Girlfriends

Sometimes, I "need" a drink. But lately I've been so consumed with research (studying the diverse and critical audiences of Girls, analyzing social advocacy through material consumption, examining how social media has empowered restaurants to (1) create a voice for themselves and (2) join the critic conversation) that I've confined myself to my desk most evenings. It's been this way ever since my brief breath of fresh air--three days in the Jura mountains; photos and stories to come. Simply put, I miss my friends and our girls nights. It's almost been a month since we've had one. A French bank holiday had fallen on a Monday, a very productive one for me at that, so I'd invited Rachael and Lorelei out for a drink. We wanted to try a new-ish wine/cocktail bar in the 10th, Joséphine; and somehow, I managed to arrive 10 minutes before them both. It was quite uncharacteristic of me as I'm usually late so I took the opportunity to grab a seat at the bar and order my first solo drink, ever. Doing so has been a goal of mine and I knew they wouldn't mind. My first cocktail of choice? The aptly named Joséphine: chartreuse, calvados, lime, absinthe, grapefruit zest. It was refreshing and flavorful, accenting botanical notes of "the green fairy" (a spirit which coincidently originated near the Jura). I also felt its effects soon after drinking. Eventually though, once they'd arrived and both enjoyed first drinks of their own, we moved on to a second. I intended to order another cocktail but was unimpressed with the other options. It's not so much that they were uninspired as I just tend to shy away from whisky-based drinks. I switched to red wine instead. And by the third glass, we ordered the house fries. Maybe it was the generous portion of our crispy midnight snack, the classy, art deco, jazz-rock vibe (good to know: there actually is a DJ/live music Thursday-Saturday nights), or most likely, the multiple glasses I'd had to drink, but soon enough, Joséphine became one of my favorite bars in Paris. The staff and end-of-the-night crowd ended up being so friendly, too, that we stayed until closing. Being a grad student in the City of Lights is often hardly what romantic Parisian dreams are made of... but sometimes, sometimes it really is.
P.S. I will be 25 years old one month from today. And, I could use a drink right about now.