In defense of day drinking

I’m a huge fan of having a beer, or a glass of wine, or a shot of whiskey at three in the afternoon.  Need that 2:30pm cup of coffee to get you through the rest of the afternoon? I highly recommend adding a shot of Jameson’s.

I used to have my beer or glass of wine with dinner, or while watching tv after dinner.  But then, if I wanted to go somewhere after dinner? Up to the grocery store to pick some things up, or a joyous Target run, or going out to a friends house after dinner?  hey, I’ve been drinking, so those car keys are off limits! Guess I’ll spend another evening in.  #sadface

that’s the genius behind day drinking.  Have a drink (or two) in the afternoon, and you’re sobered up by dinnertime.  You can drive safely, use super sharp knives in the kitchen safely, entertain the inlaws without slurring your words, do whatever you want, because you’ve already sobered up, yet you still have that happy warm memory of a recent buzz.

Life your life on your own schedule.   If you typically get 8 hours of sleep and have 1 drink a day,  that doesn’t mean you have to sleep for 8 hours in a row or sleep when everyone else is sleeping or wait until dinnertime or cocktail hour to have your drink.




secret language

do you have a secret language with anyone? Your significant other, your best friend, your kid, your dad? a secret language that is all in-jokes and movies lines and things only that person understands?

My husband and I have a secret language full of movie quotes, science fiction references, video game references, and other injokes. I don’t know if we could go 24 hours without one of these references. Shit, I don’t know if we could go 12 hours.

And I feel like it strengthens our relationship to have so many private in-jokes. A term we were throwing around earlier today was “peach cookie”. It’s a reference to a low level health power up in a video game we both played years ago, and I say it in a particular tone of voice that imitates a character from an online flash cartoon called “Radiskull and Devil Doll” from back when flash was a brand new thing and google barely existed. In our private language, “peach cookie” means something is fun and will help you feel better either physically or emotionally, along with the emotional connection of “I have been with you since we saw this flash cartoon and since we played this video game, and I have happy memories of experiencing those things with you”. I can communicate all of that by just saying “peach cookie” in a particular tone of voice.

My husband loves the movie Buckaroo Banzai. I’m just lukewarm on it. We do the call and response of “what’s the watermelon for”, “I’ll tell you later”. That call and response means I have a special and very strong bond with you and every time we use this phrase or anything from our secret language that bond gets stronger.

I hope everyone reading this has a secret language with someone. A language full of in-jokes and references, and little ways you tell that person how strong your bond is with them, and that every day it gets stronger.

no, that is not ok.

As part of my job, I am often working in grocery stories. I don’t work for the grocery store company, but I take my work materials in, do my thing, and when I’m done I take my materials back to my car.

The other day, I was training some new people in a grocery store, and because I was training people, I had more than the usual amount of stuff with me. When I was done and taking my materials back out to my car, I had nearly a full shopping cart of assorted work stuff.

Allow me to set the scene. It’s January. about 15 degrees outside. and windy. I push the shopping cart to my car, open the trunk, and am putting boxes and cardboard and bins and other things in my car as fast as I can. It is freakin’ cold outside, it’s been a long day already, and I’m in a rush to get to my next appointment.

A middle aged man walks by and says “You sure got a lot of stuff”.
“Yep,” I say.
he just stands there, as I am putting the stuff in my car.
“I’m gonna call you little red riding hood. That ok with you?” he says.
“no, it is not ok”. I reply.

From the look on his face, I am assuming no one had ever said “no” to him. It took a minute or two for him to get his composure back, which I’ll admit was a bit entertaining. He said a few other things to me, but I confess I couldn’t hear him very well because it was quite windy, I had a scarf over my face and ears, and in a windy environment the quality of my hearing goes practically to zero.

to all the men out there who feel they are entitled to my attention, to all the men whose goal in conversation is to get me to smile for you, or get me to tell you my name, or have a drink with me, because you feel you are entitled to my attention, here is a tactic that might actually work for you:

“It’s very cold out here and you seem to have a lot of stuff, may I help you put it in your car?”

because that will get me to smile. You are doing something FOR me, instead of TO me. You are doing something that helps ME instead of helping YOU.

Because I am not looking for some random guy to give me a nickname that I haven’t heard a million times. I am not interested in a random guy telling me my hair is pretty, or asking me if it’s true about how wild redheads are in bed, or any of that shit. My award winning resting bitch face was born from that kind of shit.

To any man who feels like they are entitled to any woman’s attention, you know what would be nice? offering to help her put her stuff in her car when it is 15 degrees outside and she has her hands full. No guarantee that I will take you up on your offer, because maybe I don’t want your help and also I’m not obligated to say yes if you offer assistance. But being selfless instead of selfish would go a long way in thawing my resting bitch face. Might even get me to smile.