Happy Hour Hack: Ignoring your kids, channeling David Bowie, and a secret Negroni ingredient
The Lyz Lenz edition
Welcome to Happy Hour Hack! Each Friday, I share a tip from my interviewee of the week, along with any ideas or inspiration I receive from readers, plus some things that are piquing my own interest.
Hack
I asked Lyz Lenz, who, in my opinion, should be our lodestar, for one tip that could help women out. And she gave me 14!
This is a treasure trove she’s sharing with us. Check it out:
1. Don’t match socks. Just put them in a basket. Something has to give and it’s the socks for me. Also, I once saw the writer Rainbow Rowell say that she lets her family live out of laundry baskets. That seems fine too. What’s more important? Doing what you love or folding laundry?
2. Every day, I think about this essay by Melissa Febos. “Do you want to be known for your writing or your swift email responses?”
3. When I sit down to write, in order to get over my self-defeating impulses, I remind myself of a couple things: 1.) Not everything I write is going to be a winner and that’s okay. We remember bands for their hits, rarely for their duds. But we can’t write hits without a few duds. 2.) I can edit this later. But I can’t edit what I haven’t written. 3.) Don’t take yourself too seriously.
4. My mantra: Not everyone has to like you. And that’s okay. After all, you don’t like everyone either. Not everyone’s opinion of you is your business.
5. I prioritize my work by the things that 1.) put food on my table and 2.) feed my soul. Everything else is a “no.”
6. You don’t owe anyone excuses, apologies, or reasons for a “no.”
7. Saying “no” frees you up to do the work you love.
8. Only write for free for yourself.
9. It’s okay to ignore your kids. It’s okay to prioritize yourself and your work. Screen time is okay. The average American mother parents more now than she did in the 1970s, even though she has a full-time job. Take it easy on yourself.
10. In 2020, during the shutdown, my daughter brought a book to the dinner table and was reading during mealtime. At first I was like, “Hey, mealtime is family time!” But she said, “We see each other all day. Literally, what do we have to talk about at dinner?” Now, dinner time for us is book time. We all whip out books at the dinner table, and we love it. Sometimes we watch Bob’s Burgers. We always bring books to restaurants. It’s amazing. We love it. And it’s a reminder to me that sometimes we hold onto our ideas of how things ought to be at the expense of our happiness.
11. You can always quit.
12. You are never too old to restart your life.
13. Sunscreen is great. Botox is fine. We are all just trying to survive.
14. You don’t have to earn food. You get food and treats because you are a human being and you exist.
For more of Lyz’s wisdom on living your life by what works for you instead of what is expected of you, read my interview with her here.
The Forum
I have my own list of women I want to interview for TCF. But I want to hear from you all! Who is someone you would love to read about? Who is someone you know who is doing fascinating things and might have some words of wisdom for the rest of us? I want to talk to a great range of women, so send me your ideas!
And a big thanks to Taylor Berrett who recommended TCF in his newsletter, Think & Move.
Think & Move sends out newsletters that “feature inspiration, research, and recommendations for creating more, moving more, and feeling better. In other words, being happy.” I love everything about that.
Music
This week is my daughter’s birthday, so I’ve been listening to a lot of David Bowie. I find him strangely inspiring for parenthood, and I consider “Rebel, Rebel” to be my daughter’s anthem. Whenever I can’t get a hairbrush near her, I just sing:
Rebel, rebel, you’ve tore your dress
Rebel, rebel, your face is a mess
Rebel, rebel, how could they know
Hot tramp, I love you so!
And then silly things like hair don’t matter anymore. Although:
But I’ve also, ever since I’ve had children, had a very strong reaction to Bowie’s “Cygnet Committee” off Space Oddity. It feels like he somehow understood what it was to be a mother. I know the song was about his disillusionment with hippies and counterculture and his frustration at their lack of creativity and individuality, but check out these lyrics:
I gave them life
I gave them all
They drained my very soul
...Dry
I crushed my heart
To ease their pains
No thought for me remains there
Nothing can they spare
What of me?
Who praised their efforts
To be free?
Words of strength and care
And sympathy
I opened doors
That would have blocked their way
I braved their cause to guide,
For little pay
That might come across as a little dark, but I actually find it comforting. Because sometimes, at moments, it feels like the kids are just taking and taking, and it’s so draining, and I can start to feel like an invisible servant, anticipating and providing and sacrificing with little in return. And it helps to blast this song and feel seen. And who better to see you than the everlasting Bowie?
And maybe hippies and children really aren’t that different? Well-intentioned, full of ideals, dirty little long hairs whose main strength is standing where they’re not supposed to be, yelling about something no one wants to hear. Even if we should listen. Even if they’re right. But we’re too busy rolling up our sleeves and slogging through the day, getting the work done.
So sometimes the best thing for me to do—and I definitely don’t do this enough—is not only to blast this song but to blast it with my children. Especially after dinner, when I’m often feeling like a reluctant drill sergeant, trying to get the kids to do their homework or practice piano or wash up or BRUSH THEIR FUCKING TEETH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD—and I try to let everything I need to do go (the kitchen’s a mess, there’s crap on every surface, I never finished that thing I was editing because KIDS…), and instead of cracking the whip and making all of us a little less happy, we dance. We listen to Bowie and we dance.
And I want to believe
In the madness that calls “Now”
And I want to believe
That a light’s shining through
Somehow
And I want to believe
And you want to believe
And we want to believe
And we want to live
Oh, we want to live…
Drink
In honor of Lyz, who is a devout whiskey drinker, here is a whiskey cocktail, with a secret ingredient.
This is a variation on a Negroni, which everyone loves. If you don’t love a Negroni, drink more of them. Trust me. They get better. And they’ll fix whatever ails you. Stomach ache, headache, exhaustion, grumpiness. Fixed.
But sometimes you’re in a whiskey mood. Thankfully, there’s a whiskey Negroni, called the Boulevardier. You could do equal parts, like a Negroni, but I bumped up the whiskey a bit. And the secret ingredient (which I always put in my Negronis) is…SALT. Just a tiny pinch. The salt files the edges off a Negroni (or Boulevardier) by mellowing the bitterness of the Campari. It’s delightful.
Boulevardier
1.5 oz whiskey (I went with rye)
.75 oz Campari
.75 oz Sweet Vermouth
Pinch of salt
Combine all of the ingredients in a mixing glass, add ice, and stir. Strain into a coupe and garnish by squeezing the zest of a lemon swath over the drink. (You can also use an orange swath; I just prefer the brightness that lemon gives it.) Cheers!