Category Archives: Fashion

Nicole’s Favourite Things; Fall Edition

Posted on by

I am very cross right now for a variety of reasons, amongst them a) my dog is sick with kennel cough, which he got FROM his kennel cough vaccination, and now I am faced with a new life as someone who does not want to vaccinate her dog, b) I have had to check the yard constantly “in case” Barkley develops diarrhea, and it is gross to be constantly checking dog poop, c) there are UNSOLVABLE issues with the upcoming book fair due to the fact that the school’s Remembrance Day holiday is not the same as the one that Scholastic (and, apparently, the rest of the world) is observing, d) the unsolvable issue was brought to my attention only AFTER I had sent out a cheery “would you like to volunteer?” email about it, e) I had a very awkward conversation with the developmentally slow grocery carryout guy today about suicide, which is NOT a conversation I wish to have in the three minutes it takes to put my groceries in the car, and f) it is not slated to be above zero degrees Celcius any day this week.  I AM COLD. 

I know, I know, there are bigger problems in the world.  Wah, wah, wah, and my diamond ring is too heavy for my hand, my bed of money had a lump in it, and I am just TOO beautiful. 

Still, I am in a crabby kind of mood, so I’m going to turn things around by saying WWOD (What Would Oprah Do?). 

Welcome to Nicole’s Favourite Things, the Fall Edition!


This sweater and those boots.  When fall (or, as we say in YYC, the start of the unending winter) arrives with its crisp chill, it’s a sign for me to break out the black sweaters!  This one is my new favourite.  I got it on the “We Made Too Much” clearance section from Lululemon, and it’s warm, long, and wraps around in a snuggly way.  These boots I got for half price during the Boxing Week sales from a place that I cannot recall.  Longtime readers will remember these as the “Puss in Boots” ones.  It’s a bargain of an outfit!  I think I even bought the jeans on sale.  Thriftiness in the Boyhouse!  Relatively speaking.

Those are beehives in the background.  Related: my neighbour keeps bees in her backyard and she always gives me some of her very excellent honey, to say thank you for my flowers.  Hey, it’s a two-way street; her bees make my flowers awesome, and so Taryn’s honey is on my favourite things list!


That’s her photo, by the way.  Did I mention I love this girl? 

I bought this set of three dishtowels (I know, DISHTOWELS are on my favourite things list) and they make me smile whenever I look at them, which is often, since I spend half my life in the kitchen.  They say “They Fell In Love”, “They Got Married”, and “They Lived Happily Ever After.”  Aw.  They were probably meant for a wedding shower gift, but I bought them for myself and no regrets.  Happily ever after.  I always smile when I look at that, and imagine myself in a fairy-tale like existence, and think I AM living happily ever after!  Then I go look for dog diarrhea and the mood dissipates somewhat.


Calgary is very dry year-round, but especially so in fall and winter.  I go through a lot of lotion and hand cream, and the scents from Bath and Body Works are enough to turn you into one of those creepy “Smell My Finger” guys.  But in a good way.  Twilight Woods, Cherry Blossom, and, separate from regular Cherry Blossom, JAPANESE Cherry Blossom are my current favourite scents.

That reminds me, I have been meaning to post pictures of my renovated bathroom.  Next time, okay?

My mother-in-law is a mad knitter, and she knitted me this scarf that I think is fabulous.

Fluffy, cute, and goes perfectly with a black sweater!

It was my husband’s birthday this weekend, and I made him a reduced-sugar apple crisp for his birthday, in keeping with his low-sugar dietary restrictions.  We’re such a fun couple.  Want to invite us over for dessert?  He can’t have sugar, I can’t have dairy.  Game on!  Anyway, I made him an apple crisp, although I think that cooked fruit is, quite frankly, a waste of fruit.  One of my favourite fall things is fresh, farmer’s market McIntosh apples! 


I keep our surplus apples in the crawl space.  Right next to the hall paint, apparently. 

Another thing I love about fall: pumpkins!

Those giant pumpkins were on sale for $0.19/pound.  Apparently procrastination pays off.  I am going to be roasting a lot of pumpkin seeds this weekend!

I also love making chocolate chip pumpkin loaf, and butternut squash bisque.  Lately I’ve been making that soup with coconut milk and coconut oil instead of whipping cream and butter, and it is pretty fabulous. 

So those are my favourite things about fall.  What are yours? xoxo

What kind of monster have I become?

Posted on by

It’s a beautiful autumn day here in YYC!

Did you just cry a little?  Yeah, me too.  Less than two weeks ago, this was the scene:

Jake, climbing our tree, wearing shorts.  Not shown in this photograph is the total heart attack I was having and trying to conceal.  “Wow, honey, you’re a really great climber!” is what I said.  “I am going to dial 9-1 and wait to dial the other 1.  I think I’m having palpitations!” is what I was thinking.  That was silly of me, because Jake DID lose his footing, but instead of falling he gripped the tree with both arms and both legs, hanging upside down, boasting the whole time about his superior climbing and monkey skills. 

It’s funny, the things you never think you’ll do or say that you end up doing or saying.  Things such as “Get down from there or you’ll break your neck!”  Or cleaning your child’s dirty face with your own saliva.  Just writing that down, I am revolted with my own motherly self.  And yet who among us hasn’t done this?  Who among us hasn’t retorted with the ever-popular “Because I said so, THAT’S WHY.”  Who among us hasn’t pretended to listen to their child’s steady stream of chatter and nodded absently and unmindfully?

Sometimes I wonder about the person I have become.  I look at my life and I wonder what happened to me.  For example, yesterday I was at the mall.  The mall.  On a snowy, windy, October afternoon.  All I’m going to say is, so many crying babies.  Not that I’m judging – I’ve been there before, the young mom desperate just to get out of the house.  Still.  Anyway, I was at the mall, and I saw a pink Star Wars t-shirt in my size and I considered purchasing it.  I really did.  I actually picked it up, then after a minute, I set it down again, mourning the little piece of me that died when I considered buying a pink Star Wars t-shirt for my 37 year old self.

What have I become?  I also marvelled at myself when I intervened in an argument between the children.  They were, uncharacteristically, bickering when Jake suddenly burst into tears.  The reason for the outburst was that Mark told him that of all the planets, he hated Tattooine the most.  This soul-destroying information just couldn’t be unsaid.  I spoke with Mark, and my exact words, my EXACT WORDS were “Honey, that really hurt Jake’s feelings.  How would you feel if he said he hated Naboo?” 

Who am I?

Another example of my burgeoning lameness is that the other day I purchased a bottle of Mrs. Dash.  I have always associated Mrs. Dash with the elderly who have been required by their health care providers to adopt a low-sodium diet.  I am now, apparently, a person who seasons food with Mrs. Dash.  I don’t even know what to think of this, except that I sprinkled it on my avocado-and-tomato quesadilla yesterday, and it was delicious. 

Other things that my former self would not have conceived of doing: spending hours photocopying things and becoming proficient at fixing paper jams, secretly becoming panicky and tiger-momish when my child gets four points docked on a bar graph unit test for not showing all the work, becoming sad when unable to obtain oven mitts that match my apron, and wondering if the socks-over-jeans-but-under-boots would be a good look for me. 

When the cat’s away…

Posted on by

My husband is briefly out of town, and you know what that means!  Salad for dinner, an episode of NYPD Blue, and going to bed at 8:45 pm!  When the cat’s away, this little mouse is going to get her party on.  A salad/NYPD Blue/early bedtime party. 

Yesterday I could feel a cold coming on.  I dosed up on oil of oregano, spinach smoothies, and an excessive amount of vitamin C, but I felt the only true remedy would be a good night’s sleep.  I have a piece of advice for you: if you ever want to slip into a coma, try Nighttime Benadryl.  Hoo boy.  I went to sleep at 7:30 and I woke up this morning at 6:45.  I felt mighty confused when I woke up – Who am I?  Where am I?  The nurses are stealing my money!  Get off my lawn! – however, I’m feeling much, much better. 

Other than the little case of the sniffles and the resulting unintended coma, I had a lovely weekend which included a date night AND a fabulous shopping experience, so a win all around.  I bought two new bras from Victoria’s Secret, and let me tell you, they are life-altering.  It’s not like I had never shopped there before, but this was my first venture to our local store – it’s still pretty new here – and the service was outstanding.  Who knew there were so many bra specialists? 

Natalia, the super cute and enthusiastic bra specialist assigned to me, informed me that my bra size had changed, which I do not understand.  I mean, I understand how weight gain/ weight loss/ pregnancy/ breastfeeding changes your bra size, but what if none of the above applies?  Anyway, Natalia fitted me in a sweet new “uplifting” bra and I will tell you, it’s hard to get anything done because I am now constantly distracted by my fabulous new rack.  I think I finally understand men!  I wore my new bra for our date and my husband agreed, it was ASTONISHING.  Ladies with deflated bosums, there is hope!  And that hope is Victoria’s Secret! 

I should probably note that I’m not getting compensated for gushing about Victoria’s Secret.  I AM JUST REALLY HAPPY WITH MY FABULOUS UPLIFTED BREASTS, OKAY?

Speaking of understanding men, the first time I heard of it the show Wipeout I thought “Who would ever watch that?”  Now I know.  Boys.  See also: my feelings on America’s Funniest Home Videos.  Nothing, I tell you, nothing is funnier to boys – and men – than seeing another guy get hit in the testicles with something.  In any case, the boys have been recording and watching episodes of Wipeout like it’s Mad Men.  They are obsessed with Wipeout.  They have, unfortunately for me, constructed a Wipeout-like course in our basement using exercise balls, a giant stuffed tiger, the couch, and light sabers.  I do not witness this game because I like to keep sane.  However, the other day they created a game called Family Wipeout which started with both of them on an exercise ball and ended when Jake came upstairs with blood gushing from his nose.  Sometimes I feel like I’m starring in my very own bizarre reality show.  Or maybe that’s just “reality”. 

NOT DOCTOR SLOAN!

Posted on by

Well, dammit.  I guess I’m never watching Grey’s Anatomy again. 

You know, I ALMOST stopped watching after Meredith’s near-death experience, and I ALMOST stopped watching when Denny had a recurring post-death role, and I ALMOST stopped watching when there was a hospital shooting – the swat team was right there, how did they not take down the shooter – and I ALMOST stopped watching when Christina went all nuts and she and Owen had a big fight about the pregnancy.  But through it all I kept watching because of Dr. Sloan and his pure unadulterated hubba-hubba-ness, and also with the hopes that he and Lexie would get it on again.  And now I have no reason to watch it, although, knowing Grey’s, he and Lexie might be getting it on beyond the grave which is frankly, just terrifying and creepy.

In other words, I have no reason to watch this show anymore and I am going to be freed up to do something productive on Thursday nights.

Kidding.  I totally won’t do anything productive on Thursday nights.  I probably will just take that opportunity to watch the Marky Mark video a few extra times, or maybe just go to bed at 8:30.  Or maybe watch that Marky Mark video and then go to bed, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.

Speaking of Grey’s Anatomy (grrrr) the other night Can’t Buy Me Love was on TV!  I made my husband watch a few minutes of it, and he couldn’t believe that was Patrick Dempsey!  I remember seeing Grey’s for the first time and thinking “Wow, that geeky guy from Can’t Buy Me Love turned out to be pretty hot.”  Because I have actually seen Can’t Buy Me Love multiple times.  Anyone else watch that movie and then learn to French braid their hair and become inspired to wear bomber jackets and tight jeans?  Or was that just me?

I got a phone call the other day from my hair salon telling me that my hair therapist got called into court, blah blah blah, my hair appointment got pushed back two weeks.  TWO WEEKS.  This is what is known as an epic princess tragedy in the Boyhouse.  Epic.  We are planning to do our family photos next weekend and I don’t want a year of looking at myself with an inch of grey roots, complemented by faded, orange hair.  I know, it sounds sexy, but believe me, it’s less flattering in person.  In any event, I headed out to Superstore to purchase home hair colour, among other things, and I had one of those moments wherein I marvel at the contents of my giant cart and what it says about my life.  I mean, it’s a strange still-life: hair colour and Rimmel Volume Accelerator beside whole milk and Nesquick Strawberry AND Chocolate syrups.  Coconut water and Daiya cheese next to pepperoni sticks.  Huge clamshell of organic spinach next to gigantic jar of peanut butter.  In other news, has anyone noticed the price of peanut butter lately?  Apparently there is a peanut shortage.  Peanut butter…is expensive…what alternate universe are we living in? 

Because it’s Friday, and nothing is funnier than unintentionally crude humour, here is what Jake borrowed from the school library yesterday:

“Welcome to the World of Beavers.”  And so the beaver saga continues.  Jake was reading in bed last night, and I asked him about his book so I could ascertain his reading comprehension.  “Did you know that beavers come in different colours?” he asked.  “They are usually brown, but sometimes black, and sometimes yellow!  Yellow, Mom!  Don’t you think it would be neat to see a yellow beaver?”  They’re called blondes, my dear.  And maybe in a few years.

Feeling the love

Posted on by

It seems we all have very strong opinions on skinny jeans!  I do feel that we should have learned lessons from the eighties.  I will say this, my very worst hair decision ever – and this is even worse than my 1985 mullet that my mom had home permed – was to cut my hair like Madonna’s in her Papa Don’t Preach video.  And not when she’s dancing in her sassy little black outfit, I mean when she’s wearing her “Italians Do It Better” t-shirt.  Check out the video and you will understand why I will never again cut my hair short.  That very bad haircut took forever to grow out. 

Today I feel extremely self-satisfied.  Between the hours of 7:00 and 11:15 this morning I accomplished the following: showered, dressed, makeup and hair, baked two batches of blueberry muffins, made breakfast for the kids, cleaned the kitchen, cleaned the bathroom, walked the kids to school, walked home, walked the dog, baked brownies, and finished a task I have been working on for months – editing, uploading, and ordering photos.  I have not done this task in over a year.  I had Jake’s seventh AND sixth birthday photos to develop.  Good grief.  Now I only have to go pick up the developed prints and put them all into photo albums!  Perhaps if I didn’t put this task off for months and months I wouldn’t find myself going blind, editing and cropping 500 photos. To keep myself from going insane, I put youtube videos on to listen to while I cropped and cropped and cropped.  I somehow stumbled on this video and was reminded again why I watched The Fighter – I was sure hoping to see a lot more shirtless Mark Wahlberg than there was in that movie.  It’s such a good vibration!  Swweeeeeeet sensation!  I have probably watched this ten times already; there goes my productivity.  HE’S LIFTING WEIGHTS AND PUNCHING BAGS.  ONE OF THOSE WEIGHTS IS MADE OUT OF CINDERBLOCKS.  HE HAS NO SHIRT ON.  GRACIOUS.

I had to stop writing and watch that video again.  At this rate I will never finish this post.

Here’s a picture for my lovely blog friend Ciara, who would listen to him read the phone book (does anyone still use phone books?) in his Boston accent:



I KNOW, RIGHT?  If you ain’t in it to win it, then get the hell out.


Goodness, I am so distracted now, I almost forgot what this post is all about!  I’m supposed to be thanking Kerrie over at Family, Food, and Travel for the Liebster Award, and Rhiannon over at Happy Little Feet for the Versatile Blogger Award!  Thanks girls!  As part of accepting the award, I am supposed to give you seven or eleven facts about myself – but I’ll take the average and give you nine.  It’s a little daunting – don’t you all know everything about me by now?  I guess you didn’t know that I once had one of the very least flattering hairstyles ever and that I also have a thing for Mark Wahlberg.  So there are two facts, let me think of seven more:

1. Giving up cheese has made me so very sad.  But it also has pretty much made my premenstrual symptoms disappear.  I hardly ever want to mur-diddly-urder anyone during that special time of the month.  So, call it a break even?

2. I still kind of want to mur-diddly-urder people who misuse statistics or fail to understand that correlation and causation are not the same thing.

3. I am a huge nerd.  

4. The year my little brother was born I read A Little Princess over and over again, and wondered what it would be like to live a) in an attic in London, and b) in a gigantic palace-like place in India.  That summer I also read The Bobbsey Twins Visit The Farm many, many times and pretended that our backyard was a farm. 

5. I don’t ever want to live on a farm. 

6. I was an extremely anxious child, and I bit my nails until I was 24 years old.  Now I’m obsessed with having all my nails groomed to the same length.

7. Since giving up cheese, my standard lunch now consists of a tomato and pickle sandwich.  The humanity!

Thanks for the awards, Kerrie and Rhiannon!  Feeling the love!  It’s such a sweeeeeeet sensation!

Batting 500

Posted on by

It all started when I read my friend Swistle’s post about behaviours that are “mom-ish” and behaviours that are “old lady-ish”.  For example, referring to youth as “young people today”, fumbling for change while the grocery store lineup expands behind, and so forth.  Swistle said, and I quote:

“Have you noticed that each generation thinks they’ll manage to avoid seeming “old,” as long as they avoid the exact thing their own parents/grandparents did? A woman my age will say she doesn’t want Mom Hair or Mom Jeans—but what she’s thinking of are the current GRANDMOTHER hair/jeans: she’s filed her OWN mom’s style under “mom,” but a generational shift has occurred since then. Angled stacked bobs and cute-messy twisted-up hair with side-swept bangs ARE the Mom Hair! Cute dark-wash boot-cut jeans ARE the Mom Jeans! BECAUSE THAT IS WHAT THE CURRENT MOMS ARE DOING. Our daughters will speak of such styles with distaste, and will specifically avoid them. “Don’t give me Mom Hair,” they’ll tell the stylist, meaning OUR CUTE HAIR.”
An idea sprouted in my brain, my brain that was underneath my “cute-messy twisted-up hair with side-swept bangs”, and that idea was that I am now part of this generational shift.  I am no longer “young people” – which is not news, really – but I am part of the Mom Generation that will be dismissed as lame by our daughters (collectively speaking).  That idea started as a small, uncomfortable kernel and then exploded, like a piece of popcorn.
It exploded when I started flipping through fashion magazines, as one does when one is at the hairstylist getting one’s grey/white roots touched up.  I realized as I looked through that there was not a single pair of boot cut jeans on any of the pages.  I picked up another magazine; same thing.  I picked up an article on back-to-school shopping and saw that all the hottest outfits – worn by young people today –  involve clothing that I wore during my teenage years, distressingly enough.  But it was really the lack of boot-cut jeans on style pages that had me thinking; then I realized that boot-cut jeans are not worn by anyone on popular television shows anymore.
I understand now, perfectly, how certain women who came of age in the seventies could still, twenty years later, be wearing blue eyeshadow that had long gone out of style because they believed that the shadow brought out the blue in their eyes or what have you.  I understand now, perfectly, how a person can cling to something – a bad haircut, a low-fat or low-carb diet – because that was the style during their formative years.  I understand but I am in deep, deep mourning that dark-wash boot-cut jeans have become this to the current young generation:
Do you see what I’m saying here, people?  OUR JEANS have become MOM JEANS.  And, sadly, they are fast becoming passe.  I mourn this piece of knowledge and wish I could go back to not knowing it because really, dark-wash boot-cut jeans are the most universally flattering cut that there is.  It’s true.  There is just no way on earth that this
is more flattering to the female body than this:
And yet I will concede that skinny jeans are better for wearing boots, which I love, and that skinny jeans do look pretty good with a longer top, which is nice in order to hide the muffin-top.  And this is how I found myself in the mall last week, shopping for skinny jeans.
I was helped by a very sweet young thing named Ashley, who never once helpfully told me which jeans her mother preferred.  Ashley, I realized, is not a name I hear on little girls very often anymore.  Most Ashleys that I know are in their late teens or twenties.  There is a very strong trend right now to give little girls old-fashioned names, lovely names that until recently were reserved for our grandmother’s generation: Grace, Isabelle, Ava, Emma, Lily, Abigail.  These do not include my own grandmother’s names, which have yet – if ever – to come back into fashion.

I had a St. Paul on the road to Damascus kind of realization that, if those names that reflect our grandmothers’ generation are in style now, then in twenty years the names that will be in style are what I consider “Mom names” – meaning my own mother’s generation.  In other words, in twenty years, we will see a rash of Barbaras, Beverlys, Donnas, Corrines, Carols, and Lindas.  Can you imagine?  Our granddaughters may be named Barbara and Beverly.  Or maybe Susan.  This is mind blowing enough, but then twenty, thirty years or so after that, we can expect to see our own names come back in fashion as WE become the grandmother generation!  In 2062, top baby names may well be Jennifer, Julie, Michelle, Melissa, Heather, and MAYBE EVEN NICOLE.

My mind is officially blown by this.

After Ashley helped me pick out a couple pairs of skinny jeans, I went to Sport Chek to find, apparently, the only pair of size three boys’ shoes in the entire mall.  In front of me in line was a young girl wearing orange skinny jeans with an actual backless sweatshirt showcasing a completely visible bra.

 Is this the fashion on “young people today”?  Backless sweatshirt revealing not a bra strap, but an actual bra band, worn with orange skinny jeans?  Is this what is sweeping the fashion nation?

It made me feel that maybe, just maybe, my becoming-passe boot cut jeans are not that bad.  After all, they are flattering, right?  Not like this:

Right?  RIGHT?  Although I did notice that high-waisted shorty shorts were being worn by the young crowd this summer, which makes me wonder what is happening.  What is happening in the world today?

***************************************************************************************************

And what do I mean by “Batting 500”?  It’s my 500th post!  I can’t believe I have had so much to say!  And I am so very, very grateful to you, dear readers, for reading and commenting and being supportive.  Thank you.  Stay real.  Let’s wear our boot cut jeans with pride!  xoxo

Cupcakes, shopping, and Junior Mints

Posted on by

I am pleased to report the happy news that there have been zero barfing incidents since the first day of school.  Although, writing that, I just broke out into a cold sweat thinking that I just jinxed everything and now my children will be up all night barfing.  Cue the Stevie Wonder riffs.

I really, really hope this doesn’t come to pass, and not just for the obvious reasons: tomorrow is Jake’s birthday party!  After the insanity of Mark’s last birthday party, I privately vowed to never host another birthday party as long as I live, but Jake very sweetly only wanted to invite five of his neighbourhood friends – whose mothers I am all friends with – to go play at the playground and then eat cupcakes.  I felt I could really get behind that idea!  And so that is exactly what we are going to do, and the weather is going to cooperate as well, it seems.  At this very moment I have cupcakes in the oven – these cupcakes, if you’re interested – with the promise of making extra peppermint frosting just for the birthday boy.  I’m also wearing my brand new apron:

Isn’t it adorable?  It has cupcakes on it and I’m MAKING CUPCAKES!  I’m going to feature it in an upcoming “Nicole’s Favourite Things” post, but strangely, like kale chips and 70s soft rock, I am the only one in my house who does not revile this sweet apron.  What is wrong with everyone I live with?  I put it on last night to show the kids, who stared at me, making “Uhhhhhhh” noises until Mark said “Mom?  It’s kind of lame.”  I showed my husband, who wasn’t shy about sharing his unfavourable opinion.  But what does he know?  He also said “I thought when you said you had a new apron, it was, you know, the kind that is black and lacy…”  It’s not a French maid outfit, husband.  I’m using it for actual baking, not “baking”.

That was the strangest euphemism for sex ever, no?

Anyway, so cupcakes are on the to-do list today, as well as putting together loot bags.  I went out yesterday specifically to buy loot bag treats, a replacement shirt for the one that was barfed on, and shoes for Mark.  I’m kicking myself a little because – I don’t mean to brag, here, people – I am the most organized person I know.  Yet I fell down on this one.  I bought indoor school shoes for the boys weeks ago, but since they were in sandals all summer, I failed to notice that Mark’s regular outdoor runners were a size too small until the first day of school.  ORGANIZATIONAL FAILURE.  He could barely walk in them, poor giant-flippered child.  So I thought I would just pick up a pair while running all my other errands.

And let me tell you, by the end of the day I was so frustrated and crabby that I was ready to burn the whole mall down.  I went to every single store that sold shoes and I purchased the only pair of boys’ runners in Mark’s size.  THE ONLY PAIR.  I have written many times about my frustration over the lack of selection for boys’ wear, but that really took the cake.  I ended up paying an exhorbitant price for a simple pair of running shoes which will likely be outgrown in six months, although thankfully they can be passed down to Jake as well.  BUT STILL.  Then I attempted to find party favours that were not embossed with Tinkerbell or Barbie, but again, this was futile.  I ended up going to the dollar store where I found not only Star Wars-themed Pez dispensers, but also Angry Birds-themed napkins and bags, and gigantic packages of candy, including Junior Mints!  I hope I don’t eat all the Junior Mints before I get them into the loot bags.  Who doesn’t like a Junior Mint?  They are so refreshing!

So the first week back at school has been full of excitement, hasn’t it?  There are a few other things going on around here that are amping things up a little, such as an in-law visit and preparing for the first school council meeting.  Suffice it to say I’m looking forward to my Friday night cocktails/wine/any alcohol at all.  How early is too early for a drink, really?