alcohol

Why fun is better than hot

My parents have refused to purchase critical items including but not limited to Johnnie Walker Black Label and Goldschlager. They tell me groceries take priority and that’s just how it is.

I get the solid-foods thing; I understand that people and especially kids need to eat meals, and that it’s important not to squander our resources. I do actually like the kids, even though they get a little nutty sometimes when it comes to yours truly.

Can you tell which handwriting is thumbless?

So yes, we should feed them, which means allocating funds for Rice Krispies and apple sauce instead of my booze wish list.

But sometimes my parents waste money.

For instance, they paid the school $10 for something called Hot Lunch and then forgot about it.

According to the school, Hot Lunch means a pizza day for the kids, so they don’t have to bring a sandwich. The school collects the money about two weeks before the lunch, at which time parents check off their preferences as to pizza topping and milk versus juice to accompany it.

Urban slang defines Hot Lunch a little differently—something the grade one teacher may be aware of, given that she rephrased it in the classroom calendar as “Fun Lunch.”

Either way, it slipped my mum’s mind and she packed a sandwich anyway—a waste of resources and (I humbly point out) a small but direct hit on the Goldschlager fund.

I expect my parents to forget stuff. But I wondered how they could forget the school’s exuberant urging to enjoy Hot Lunch.

I asked my mum if she was concerned about the school providing Hot Lunch for minors and making parents pay for the experience.

She smacked her own forehead, realizing she’d forgotten all about it and exerted herself unnecessarily to construct a ketchup-and-cheese sub. This mattered to my mum, who tends to economize with her parenting efforts.

“Is it the Hot Lunch aspect of it?” I asked.

“Fun Lunch,” she said.

“Because I think I’d decline an offer of Hot Lunch myself.”

“Oh, would you?”

“I would.” I was being very sincere.

“Miscreant.”

So I guess it looks like another dry day here at LBHQ.

Monetize this!

My Fellow Inebriates,

One of the best things about being a bear is that I don’t have to get a job. There’s probably nothing more stressful in the modern world than figuring out how to fit into the workforce. If you don’t find a niche, you flagellate yourself for being broke and unproductive, even if your kick-ass Bejeweled scores buoy your self-esteem somewhat. If somebody does hire you, you go into ass-kissing mode, trying to keep that precious money drip going, even as you turn into a robot.

So I really enjoy being an unemployable bear.

But it’s not perfect. My parents don’t purchase nearly enough alcohol, which suggests the need for an income uptick.

Monetize that!

I mentioned this to my mum, who shooed me away because the gems were mega-exploding and she needed to concentrate. Telling her we have a vodka emergency is like pissing in the wind. And my dad doesn’t even believe such a crisis is real.

When I pestered my mum (her word), she suggested I stop using my site to pine for alcohol and make some effort to monetize it. Seriously!

This sounded a bit too close to “work” for my tastes, but she pointed to the string of emails about “growing your blog” (which, hypocritically, she had subscribed to despite huge reservations about the misuse of the intransitive word “grow”). She said perhaps I should check out my stats a bit and take some interest in that stuff.

"There are lies, damned lies and statistics." - Mark Twain

I said I do look at my stats—that’s how I know someone googled “shit bear gay” and found me this morning. I said I planned to address that very subject, but I needed to clear my head with some shooters first. Then I needed to look at the People of Walmart. Then it would be naptime.

I need cachaca.

But she barred me from the computer. She was busy reading Tentblogger, Copyblogger and Problogger, not to mention some Canada Customs information that might explain why my Cachaca hasn’t arrived via UPS yet.

Sigh. Do you guys pay attention to this monetizing stuff?

How to keep those New Year’s resolutions—even if you’re an alcoholic

So how are we doing on our New Year’s resolutions, my fellow inebriates?

Apologies for the royal “we.” There are certainly no LB resolutions, unless you count the ongoing goal of opening bottles without benefit of thumbs.

Is it even particularly good for us to make New Year’s resolutions?

Psychologists say no, it isn’t. Fully three-quarters of the resolved fail in their pursuits, ending up more dispirited than before. Even simple resolutions—such as going to Walmart without exposing a private orifice—elude some people year after year.

The problem with resolutions is that by definition they focus on negative behaviors. Even when they’re couched in positive language, they tend to have an obvious dark side that starts beckoning after a few days or hours of the new year. Focusing on quitting drinking, as an obvious example, leads to obsessive thinking about alcohol. It’s true!

So how do people succeed at keeping resolutions?

  • They develop their own plans rather than heeding specious advice from self-help books and motivational gurus.
  • They make their resolutions long before the ball begins its New Year’s descent.
  • Their resolutions are realistic and well-considered, not whimsical.
  • Their resolutions are specific, unlike my friend Scarybear’s (“get more snacks in 2012”).
  • They make one resolution at a time.
  • They make their resolutions official by telling people about them, or at least journaling them.
  • They break the mountain up into small hills, so the journey isn’t overwhelming, and they get satisfaction in periodic increments.
  • They forgive themselves when they lapse. They understand it’s part of the process.
  • When they do slip, they don’t let all-or-nothing thinking negate the resolution entirely. They just continue.
  • They reward themselves for incremental successes.

But how do we apply all this shit now that it’s already 2012? Isn’t it too late to make resolutions?

Well, no…there’s nothing magical about New Year at all. In fact, New Year is one of the worst times to resolve to do anything. It’s winter, there’s food and drink everywhere, people are visiting, the mood is celebratory, the gym is crowded, and if you’re a bear you should really be hibernating.

Why not resolve to wait for the optimal time to do something? Then do it.

For me, that thing is discovering how to open wine bottles with my paws. Now that I know the year isn’t lost, I can still make it happen.