Month: August 2012

Too stressed to type?

The move from the old to the new LBHQ is 75% done, with only odds and ends (plus dirt) remaining at the old place. Over the years we’ve come to call this the “shrapnel phase”—everything left to move is odd-shaped, loose, and defiant of categorization.

In some ways the shrapnel phase is the worst part of a move. You no longer have a truck (or we don’t, at least), so all this crap has to be moved piecemeal in car trips. You’ve moved all the stuff you care about and use everyday, so it’s hard to generate enthusiasm to finish the job—you start to think about abandoning the shrapnel…but you’re not quite sure what might be hiding in it or underneath it (like the brandy glasses that disappeared two moves ago?). Psychologically, you’ve moved on. You’re in a new place; you’ve put things away nicely, and it sure looks tidy without…the shrapnel.

And that’s where we’re at, my fellow inebriates. The mega-stressful part is over, and there’s a sense of renewal and rebuilding. But there’s that nagging pile of crap back at the old place, which we really should go and get. So my dad’s doing it today. And once it’s done, his stress level should  go down.

Which is bad. I mean, yeah, sure, I like my dad and all; I don’t want him to give himself an ulcer. But I’ve been enjoying the way my parents have coped with this move—they’ve bought alcohol. And I worry that when they’re finally finished moving, they’ll stop doing that, or at least reduce their liquor spending to the dull roar they aspire to.

This is what we had been buying per month:

  • Beer: 1 case plus the occasional specialty one-off
  • Wine: 2 bottles

This is what we bought up to and during our move:

  • Gin: 2 750mL bottles plus mickeys for our Shoot-Out
  • Beer: 3 cases and two six-packs
  • Wine: 3 bottles

This represented a sizeable uptick. Sadly, I can’t count on them to keep the spending up. They’re already remorseful. Did it at least relieve their stress?

Apparently not. No one wants to be my paws tonight on the keyboard. Looks like we are stressed.

A mighty flame followeth a tiny spark (OMG!)


My Fellow Inebriates,

We are getting a new hot water tank today. (How much vodka is that worth?)

Apparently it is a top-of-the-line model that will save us a bundle. This is good, because the kids could really use more frequent baths (not that I’m one to talk).

The new unit replaces an old hot water heater that featured compelling Dantean imagery:

 

Clip Snark, this one’s for you.

ASTROLIQUOR for August 17-23—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

As an Aries you sometimes have difficulty maintaining civilized relationships, and this week it gets worse. Your psyche splits in half, freaking out friends and family. One minute you’re barring the door and ignoring your phone. Next minute you’re streaking around the block in a thong. This latter behavior is just a cover-up for the tender, squishy interior you’ve been hiding. Loosen it up with some vodka.

Taurus, one of your friends is into you—and very suddenly. You, however, have your eye on someone else. You could keep your options open just in case the latter fails to notice you. Then again, your admirer could well be a stalker who drinks all your Hennessy while you’re in the shower. It’s potentially a shit scenario, but you can’t very well hide from the world. The stars say go with your gut.

You’ll meet a flirt this week, Gemini, which could make for rocky times if you already have a steady squeeze. But you’re generally lucky, so you can get away with a fair bit. Whether you take the plunge has a lot to do with how much Captain Morgan’s in your bloodstream. Your best risk-taking days are Monday through Wednesday, but don’t look at me for answers on Thursday. 😦

An old photograph or video reminds you of an old friend, Cancer. Being naturally sentimental, you sail down memory lane, lamenting your lost relationship and wishing you’d had as much sense as you do now. Don’t start freaking out about your age, though. If you get even the slightest urge to go for Botox, break out the vodka and Southern Comfort. Even if booze doesn’t shake the impulse, no doctor will inject you when you’re hammered, although you might find a tattoo artist who’s willing.

Leo, your general health is improving. You feel stronger and more competitive. You’re sleeping better and managing stress in healthy ways. You’re waking up early and going for nature walks. OMG, how did this happen? Has your bartender started watering down your Jagermeister? Better find out—it’s not normal to feel this good.

Whatever people advise, you tend to do the opposite, Virgo. You lose patience for rules and order as the stars urge you toward peach schnapps, vodka, and Hypnotiq. Depending on your baseline level of introversion, this is either good or bad. (Ain’t it great how horoscopes are correct no matter what?)

Libra, you frequently feel insecure or even embarrassed about your physique. Pasty and sallow, you get your carbohydrates from Sprite and your other macronutrients from gin, hoping like hell juniper contains some vitamins. Wallowing in shame won’t help you, Libra. Not as much as much as wallowing in a nice bath with candles and more gin.

Your third eye is very acute this week, Scorpio. You’re seeing and hearing things that aren’t actually there. Lots of people—astrologers, for example—would consider this a gift, but you are a little weirded out. So intuitive are you that you make a sordid discovery about your own private life. Any Scorpio worth his/her salt loves going down this type of bizarre rabbit hole, so pop the champagne cork and celebrate! But do it after Sunday, because the stars say you’ll end up being designated driver all weekend.

Sagittarius, you’re mowing through your finances again, with no thought for the morrow. Your bar friends love you for this, but look out—everything comes to a screeching halt in October, and the money situation won’t look up until at least December. Not only that—you’re juggling multiple projects and not finishing anything. Try ratcheting back the Kahlua in your breakfast flask.

Relationships test your mettle this week, Capricorn. You may even be forced to choose between two people—a painful decision that calls for a rational mind. This you don’t have—not with your neurons swimming in rum and triple sec—and you could end up regretting your choice in December. Try not to jettison friendships, even if you have to tell some lies. This might mean capping that rum consumption so you can keep track of what you’ve said…can you do it?

Aquarius, cool your jets, there’s nothing that can’t wait a while. Where did this crazy sense of urgency come from? The world won’t stop if you slow down. Relax; try being late occasionally; ditch an AA meeting. Bet your workplace has enough type-A personalities, at least for this week. The recipe? Two ounces amaretto, two ounces coffee liqueur, in your morning Starbucks.

Pisces, lose the keyboard and go outside. Real people are more interesting in real life, and some of them have been trying to catch your eye for a while. Even if you think nature walks are for douchebags, you can make them work for you. What about a lovely picnic in a pastoral setting with a two-liter Fresca bottle and some Crown Royal?