September 28, 2005
tear in my beer
I try not to keep alcohol in the house. If I have it, chances are I will drink it and thatís where we begin to have problems.
Several months ago, I noticed that every time I came home from a long day and poured myself a glass of wine with the purpose of relaxing, without fail and within the hour I was crying. Things were all around more complicated then. Love was tricky, life was confusing and drinking alone became an invitation to a pity party.
Things are decidedly less complicated now, so when I dropped my purse on the ottoman this evening, I made a beeline for the bottle of Syrah that was decorating my kitchen counter. A birthday gift from Jen, it had been biding its time waiting for a dinner party or some other event because, well, I donít drink at home alone. But tonight, I decided I was well and whole and so very even keel that not only was there not a thing in the world that could bring me to tears, a glass of wine might even send me to sleep a little bit early.
Boy howdy, was I wrong.
I poured some wine, took a swallow and made that ďahhhĒ sound you make when you kick off a pair of uncomfortable shoes or take a sip of really good coffee in the morning. Then I ran a bath. When I got out and dried off, I poured myself another glass and retired to the bedroom. I lit some candles, crawled into bed and entertained some remarkably profound thoughts like, Oooh, my toenails match my sheets.
So far, so good.
Then I switched on my computer. I read a few emails, dallied with the idea of paying a few bills and clicked over to CNN to catch up on the dayís news. Now, some people may not consider a mother cat nursing a baby squirrel to be news, but I am not some people, and had to watch the news clip immediately.
I made it nearly halfway through the clip before the waterworks started. It was not a sobfest by any means, but I did feel a tear forming in the corner of my eye. I put an immediate halt to it.
Come on! I mean, crying from cuteness is a vast improvement, but I have to admit that melancholy seemed a much more respectable reason for tears. And whatís more, Iím not in bed asleep; Iím wide awake and blogging about what a ridiculous sap I am.
I really should learn to stick to my own policies. Or at the very least, learn to like whiskey. Because tears or no, after two glasses, Iíd be out cold.
Posted by This Fish at September 28, 2005 12:01 AM
You're not supposed to like whiskey. That's why there's binge drinking.
Big deal! A sad sappy tear is by no means the same as a tear in the name of self-pity. Don't be so hard on yourself. Be glad that in this day and age you still have some softness left.
There is nothing wrong with getting a little emotional about the cat and the baby squirrel, if there is, I need to reconsider my emotional state...sober. It was really cute.
I stick with jasmine tea at night, I can't imagine the whiskey going down as smooth!
I feel you, Fish! I cry over newspaper headlines, soft news stories, old people kissing each other, dogs licking each other in the park. It's embarrassing in public, but I now know to just avoid reading newspapers. And, um, close my eyes everywhere else.
I'm not suppose to drink alone either. Even if I just had one of the best days . . . tears. Always.
But was the wine good?
The wine was so very excellent.
Crying for cuteness is equally as respectable as melancholy crying. You know when it's also okay to cry? When you run out of Ben and Jerry's.
i honest-to-goodness wondered just last night if i was the only one. thanks for sharing.
I think drinking a glass or two of a chilled white wine when you come back home is just a good treat.. I do it often, even on my own and do not think that' a bad habit!
and you feel like crying... well, that's nothing wrong with it either... I cried last night on my own watching a good movie.. in a way makes you feel alive..
if it makes you feel any better I was right there with you, without the wine. I cried from 9:30 am to 5:30 pm, took a break for yoga, cried some more, thought I was done, ate an entire box of mac and cheese, went to do laundry at Kevin's, cried through part 2 of the Bob Dylan documentary, and cried myself to sleep. wtf? glad... you... enjoyed?
I once had a bottle of Syrah so good I cried tears of joy. And it only cost about $30. But I haven't seen it on the shelf since. Now THAT is reason to cry.
At least you need the wine to get you there. I would have started sobbing about the cat and the squirrel stone cold sober. As a matter of fact, just reading your post got me a little misty-eyed.
I know the feeling. I do the same thing whenever I drink. Everything seems to bring tears to my eyes.
Let me know when you want to learn how to like whiskey, I have some ideas. Then there is scotch, single malt...the world really can be your tear filled oyster.
No, stay away from the whiskey. Do try the whisky, however.
you aren't talking about the baby squirrels nursed by a cat back in 1997 are you? that's the only listing for that story that I could find on cnn's website...
being able to feel emotions is not a bad thing. this time, yes you were crying, but (like someone said earlier) you weren't crying out of self-pity but empathy.
since i have multiple personalities, i've never had to drink alone. (i like your site, by the way. interesting AND entertaining!)
Man, I am SO with you. That's why I refuse to drink any alcohol other than on the weekends or a very rare occasion. Because really, there's nothing worse than having been crying, falling asleep, and waking up with the residual puffiness of the eyes and having to show up at work the next day. Okay, so that usually happens only with sobbing, but why risk it? It's happened before and I don't want to do it again. Weekend drinks good. Weeknight sobs BAD.
It's OK to cry now and then....like the day I picked a stray hair off of my shirt, only to find that the other end was (not anymore!) attached to my chest.
I get maudlin and positively disgusting when I drink red wine. Anything else? Just drunk, thanks. It's weird.
I was about to write, 'at least it's socially acceptable for you to cry at a moment's notice,' but what about us manly he-men?, but then I realized that would be to admit I cry at the least thing. Which I totally don't. Not even that scene in Field of Dreams where Ray asks his dad if he wants to have a catch.
Excuse me for a moment. (I swore I wouldn't DO this...)
i am the queen of impromptu sobfests. i weep over extreme makeover, and not just home edition. :)
sometimes it just feels so good to cry...
i keep opening your website, hoping to fall in love when i least expect it, but alas! i am destined to be teased yet another day, my dreamy design ideas just a myth in my mind, like the good man i've yet to find. damnitol! ;)
i know i say this often, but this time it totally is my favorite post here so far.
tonight i will check how well my toenails match my sheets.
Ahh, the joys and profound insights one finds when drinking alone. Great blog by the way.
grrrl, you puttin' tears in my merlot (not really a rhyme, eh?) as i check in once again. i need to be patient. patience is a virtue...(...that i don't have!). ;)
Being vulnerable again, are we? You might try one toke of good "dagga" every once in a while. And while you're in the tub, try putting on some upbeat music. Zydeco usually works quite well. Alcohol is such a downer. But then, I'm an inveterate ale drinker. Give me a Cooper's Sparkling Ale and I'm off to the races. Blues goes well with it. Stop after three and you'll be ok. In fact, only two glasses of wine isn't really bad for you. It's good for your health, my dear. So, wipe that tear from your chinny-chinny-chin, pick yourself up, put yourself right and start all over again!
Cheers from the antipodes!
@Luke: Why not? I like whiskey -)
But then again, drinking home alone has never really made me profoundly sad, and I don't cry all that much to begin with. BUT, you are right that drinking together is so much more fun. And not wanting to drink too much/often is always a good idea :-)
Ofcourse everything after the first sentence wasn't meant for Luke anymore, I'm such a typically blond female sometimes :-D
Those are good, well-spent tears. We all need them, whether wine induced or not. I have taken to drinking a glass of wine at night...to relax. I haven't started crying, but I'm looking forward to the release.
Am I the only one who refuses to see Field of Dreams because Kevin Costner is such a fucknut that he destroys anything he's in?