Me: I’m going to run downstairs and grab a beer. Would you like one?
Him: Sure.
Me: Do you want a Sierra or a Hoegaarden?
Him: A what?
Me: Hoegaarden.
Him: That sounds like my kind of garden. I’ll take one of those.
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Now that I sell swag for a living I am stressing out about having the coolest stuff to give away this year at BlogHer.
Yes, I realize that is completely ridiculous and normal people have real problems.
Of course I still have about 200 Draft Day Suit key chain bottle openers with the URL spelled wrong from last year.
See why I needed to do my own?
My question to you is should I stick with the beer theme or should I move on?
I’ve been known to drink a beer or two (or eight) every now and then.* I love beer and I love wine. I even love some mixed drinks, but they don’t so much love me.
This is not my point. What I was going to say is that I come by it honestly. My mother’s entire family are pretty solid drinkers. This tends to get me in trouble when I hang out with my cousins.
So one night I was drinking (heavily) with my cousins and we had to get up early the next morning. We had a pre-wedding get together. I wasn’t hungover exactly, but I certainly wasn’t at me best. When we got to the shower the hostess offered us a mimosa. Not to be the type of person to turn down such an offer I accepted.
Here is the thing with champagne in the morning after a long night of drinking: after about a half a glass I was buzzed again.
I need to give you this back story to justify my behavior.
This was the first time I had been to the house of these people. They are very nice upstanding people. The bride’s whole side of the family are lovely upstanding Christian people. Our side, not as much.***
I hope you understand that I have been forthcoming that I possess the maturity of a 12 year old boy when I tell you that when I saw this plaque hanging by their garage door I laughed until I was doubled over and crying.
It was the kind of laughter where no actual sound was coming out.
That is when my Dad walked into the kitchen.
I think he thought there was something wrong with me. Probably because I was weeping and gasping. When he asked me what was the matter all I could do was point was point and wheeze.
I believe his exact words were “Nice, Sarah”.
My parents are very proud of me.
Fast forward about ten years. I am actually a grown up with my own house and children and a job and everything. I had just successfully convinced my kids to clean their rooms. I was feeling pretty good. My deadlines had been met, the house was clean (ish) and I was ready for my evening fantasy football draft and neighborhood birthday party. Then I heard knocking.
I went downstairs to the front door.
Nobody was there.
Yet, still there was knocking, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
I found the kids. They weren’t hitting anything. The cats were sleeping. I was starting to feel crazy and I asked the kids if they heard knocking.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered.
And then I looked out my back door and it was no bird. It was my new neighbor. She is going into Kindergarten this week just like The Goon Squad and she was coming over to play.
About ten minutes later there was another knock, and this time I was prepared and I went to the kitchen door first.
It was the new neighbor mom and she was looking for her daughter.
I think I actually have my own back door friends.
And now I understand the sign.**
Back door friends really are best. I think it is the idea that there are no formalities.
Then my new neighbor brought me a beer. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
The Gagging Sounds are Coming from Me
Originally uploaded by Sarah606
In all honesty, while neither is my first choice of beverage, I have no prejudices against Budweiser or Clamato.
It is the thought of the two of them mixed together that makes me wretch.
I have a one day turnaround.
Yesterday I got home from Albuquerque and tomorrow I leave for Hot Springs. Today consists of doing laundry and trying to procure a broadband card so that I can do my job while on the road. I also had library books to return (the library is becoming like the video store for me. With all of my late fees it will soon become cheaper to just start buying books again.) and grocery shopping. Then I have to repack for myself and the kids before we leave in the morning.
It took me a while to wrangle up the Goon Squad and convince them that we had to go get a broadband card. I can’t imagine why they weren’t excited about it. Maybe if I had mentioned it would enable me to show them YouTube videos of transformers and princesses in the car they would have been a little bit more motivated.
So just as I was thinking this was going to be a pretty crappy day the greatest thing happened.
The DHL guy showed up at my door. (DHL, that is the yellow one right? You know, not Fed Ex, UPS or the Post Office, but the other one.) He had a big heavy box for me.
This particular box sloshed and it required someone over 21 to sign for it.
It was beer! For me!
I had completely forgotten but back in April I was in a wedding. Two of my favorite people married each other and for my bridesmaid gift they gave me years membership to The Beer of the Month Club.
Now you see why they are two of my favorite people.
I know I said beer of the month, but actually I get a mixed 12 pack every other month, or maybe it is every three months, but today was my lucky day!
Ever since that nice man brought beer to my door I have been in a good mood. I haven’t even had any yet but just knowing it is chilling in my beer fridge makes me happy.
