Home - Top Row


Home - Bottom Row

Let's Panic: The Book!

Order your copy today!

How to Endure and Possibly Triumph Over the Adorable Tyrant
who Will Ruin Your Body, Destroy Your Life, Liquefy Your Brain,
and Finally Turn You
into a Worthwhile
Human Being.

Written by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy

Some Books
I'm In...

Sleep Is
For The Weak

Chicago Review Press

Home - Middle Row

Let's Panic

The site that inspired the book!

At LET'S PANIC ABOUT BABIES, Eden Kennedy and I share our hard-won wisdom and tell you exactly what to think and feel and do, whether you're about to have a baby or already did and don't know what to do with it. → 

« A house! A house for us! | Main | Why I'm glad I took the firewire cable with me. »

Yogurt-dipped mornings, alcohol-soaked evenings

Here are two excerpts from emails I sent to Scott. In the first one, I reveal my true dorkiness:

“Today, as in the next few days to come, Melissa and I had the incredible hotel breakfast of meats and cheeses and pastries and cereals and eggs and other meats and yoghurts (with an h!). I enjoyed a small yoghurt beverage, just to see how the natives liquefy their yogurt. I thought it was unflavored, but then I tasted it and realized it was a berry-flavored delight; after inspection I saw a tiny image of a strawberry on the label. Melissa and I discussed how if this were American packaging there would be an enormous anthropomorphized strawberry wearing shades and skateboarding across the label, and it would be called EXTREME STRAWBERRY BLAST, and this was so funny to me at that moment that yoghurt drink almost came out of my nose.

Look how much has happened, and it’s still breakfast.”

And then I try to redeem myself with more adult-style beverage choices:

“Well, here's the email you knew would show up eventually: the one where I'm completely drunk. Hi, sweetheart! Baby had some drinks! We went out with a reader of our blogs, a gorgeous Swede named Monica, who took us to a tiny bar crammed with locals and proceeded to charm the pants right off of all of us. And I really liked those pants. We enjoyed much jenever (pronounced ye-NAV-er--these Dutch say everything all funny), which is sweet and many-flavored (I had applecake, blackberry, prune, and maybe more but everything gets fuzzy after that), and because it’s so sweet you really have to have it with beer. So I had many of them! With beer! And then on to another pub, where I had more beer. The jenever is actually not particularly strong, but the thing is, it fools you into thinking, hmm, it's like cider! Or a lovely medicine of some sort! And then you can't stand upright.”

Not surprisingly, I ended that last email with “I love you so much I'm crying.” This is why I don’t drink more. Melissa.

Reader Comments (36)

MMmmmmm, the appletaart drink at Wijnand Fockink. I love that little bar (I always call it "wine and fucking" because I am twelve, but really it is just an old dutch name).
March 3, 2006 | Unregistered Commentermika
Wishing it was me. Sounds like an awesome time. I am surprised you could type anything after those drinks. I would be face down passed out in my drool.
March 3, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterLisa
drunk, in another country, with husband watching child? i could handle me a piece of that action.

ah, who'm i kidding. i'd be crying to go home and hug my babies before the damned plane left the tarmac. danged kids anyway and how much we loves 'em.

you have fun for all us moms, will ya? now go get drunk some more. and just for me, flash yer boobs at some strangers. because i would so do that if i were there.
March 4, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterhonestyrain
I am so enjoying the formality of the word beverage. In Australia we just say 'drink' which is so much more ... pedestrian.

PS. Your yoghurts don't have h in them? Bizarre.
March 5, 2006 | Unregistered Commentersuse
Drinking makes me nostalgic and weepy about almost everything. No telling WHAT I would have written had I been in your shoes--or even those pants you liked so much. Wearing them, I mean.
March 5, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterwordgirl
I had a dream that I flew to NYC, where I have never been, just to hang out with you and Henry. I drove over the Brooklyn Bridge and we went to a party store, and you got decorations for a party you were throwing for blogging hipsters. I was not invited. I thought "while I'm here, I'll just drop in and see Mrs. Kennedy," who for some reason I dreamed lived in New York. You were adorable and Henry was adorable and I thought to myself "Alice is my friend."

And then I woke up and was all like...what the hell did I drink last night? Why am I dreaming about bloggers?

Feel stalked. And loved. :)
March 5, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterÉireann
It sounds like you have more fun than should be allowed! I would love love lurv to have been you!
March 5, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterJerri Ann
I'm with the Prune? Prune? person above.

I'm pretty sure I need to stay away from any food, other than prunes, that involves prunes. The next day would be very bad.
March 5, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterAbby
girlfriend, don't you know better than to e-mail while drinking?? it should be a federal offense!
March 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commenterstacy
OK, I am forced to read your archives out of withdrawals.Actually, I am having a lot of fun reading your archives, but it leaves me with a wierd stalker like feeling of "i love me some alice".sounds like so much fun and i want to be friends with you and melissa and all the other cool blogger mama's. it is bringing up my highschool self who wanted to be friends with the cool girls. you are part of the Cool Girls of the Internet.
March 6, 2006 | Unregistered CommenterDeb
i'm glad you enjoyed the genever miss! it was lovely to meet you guys :) i hope you found a super-amazing toy for the little man.
March 6, 2006 | Unregistered Commentermonica

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Some HTML allowed: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <code> <em> <i> <strike> <strong>