Sundays with Stretchy Pants

Know what I love? Food. Know what goes good with food? Beer. I know, but you can’t drink beer all the time. So know what is super awesome? WATER!

This is going to sound like a commercial, but it’s not a commercial, I swear. I care very deeply about personal hydration and I am very excited to have all of my personal hydration issues solved (taste and portability) after so very long.

If you know me, you know I love food and alcohol and I run a lot. All of those things mean that I have to make sure I’m hydrated. Oh, also, I used to feed children (sometimes 2 at a time) with my breasts. So hydration is a big deal for me. I’m super cheap I care very deeply about the environment (I do now, but I didn’t back in the day) so I’ve never been one to buy bottled water. I’ve only ever carried a reusable  bottle around and, back in the day, that meant that I was always lamenting the plastic taste of the water and lamenting the fact that the taste I was lamenting was the taste of cancer or whatever. Anyway, I dealt with the plastic taste all of those years and then, when I was able to leave the house without a diaper bag (Oh, glorious day), I had another problem: WHERE’M I GONNA PUT MY WATER BOTTLE? I suffered, lo, this many years by carrying my water bottle IN MY FREE HAND because I couldn’t put it in my purse because my purse didn’t have a handy bottle carrier thingy and if I shoved the bottle in my purse, the condensation would get all over my library book and my wallet. I don’t like to pay for library books, so this didn’t suit me.

So, 2 problems: Taste, and carry around-ability. With me? Ok.

Ok, so remember when Baying Hound gave Liberty a Klean Kanteen to try? Well, then I bought 3 more because it solved my problem of taste. Yay!

So, the Klean Kanteen solved 1/2 of my problems right away, still leaving me with the portability issue.

Anyway, guess what I stumbled across at Baying Hound? You won’t believe it! Look:

The answer to all of my problems: A frickin’ neoprene carrying-case thingamajig that, yes, I could totally carry, but more importantly for me, I could stuff it in my purse and the Klean Kanteen can’t sweat on my library book!

You guys, I am soooooo happy about this, you have no idea. I just keep stuffing my be-neoprened Klean Kanteen into my purse with my book and I actually can use my free hand to wave or flip you off or whatever! Isn’t that awesome? I never thought I could be this happy.

A word, if you please, about price. Now, if you’re like me, you might say, “Hey, a Klean Kanteen is $x and a Thirsty Tote is $y and that is more money than I usually spend on personal hydration.” And then I would say, “LAME! Proper hydration is priceless. You can’t say, ‘I had lots of fun drinking those beers last night,’ if you’re not properly hydrated. No. Do you know what you say when you drank a lot of beers without being properly hydrated? You say, ‘My head hurts. Shut your damn kids up!’ And nobody wants that.”

Here’s a really good reason to start eating at McDonald’s again: They’re being boycotted by the American Family Association because they are committed to the gay and lesbian community. I wonder if they made it official with a commitment ceremony, or if they’re just going around wearing wedding bands? Here’s a link to Wonkette’s commentary on the boycott, complete with the best ever comments. Don’t worry, there’s a link to the actual boycott site on the Wonkette page, but I’m not linking to the boycott because you never know who’s reading my blog and I would hate for someone to click over to the boycott page and actually sign the petition without first reading about how retarded they are for signing the petition.

Disclaimer: I don’t skip McDonald’s because of any philosophical beliefs about the way they treat their meat animals, or because of any health risks that eating there might cause. No, if I still lived in Chesaning, I would still be eating McNuggets. The only reason I don’t eat there anymore is because, why would choose their fast food if I could get fast food at Panera or Chipotle? That would be crazy!

Too Tight Ponytail Girl tagged me with the 7 weird things meme. This lead to a conversation with Bryan that went something like this:

Me: I’m supposed to blog about 7 weird things about me. Any ideas?

Him: Yeah, you always blah, blah, blah

Me: I don’t do that!

Him: Yes, you do. How about blah, blah, blah

Me: That’s not weird!

Him: Yes, it is. How about this one: Blah, blah, blah

Me: I do not always do that. And if I did, it wouldn’t be considered weird. You don’t know what weird is! Go to bed and leave me to my blog.

So, here’s what I came up with on my own:
1. I eat Reese’s peanut butter eggs by eating the chocolate off the sides and top first, then eating the egg-shaped peanut butter. I have no such compulsion with the regular peanut butter cups.

2. I used to see ghosts when I was little. One time, one of them threw a Hungry, Hungry Hippos marble at me when I was singing and dancing to a John Lennon song in my room. They came in through my brother’s demon rock posters in his room, I’m sure of it. And as a teenager I would hear breathing like somebody was right next to me in my bed. I would hold my breath and still hear it. It was super freaky.

3. Every night, I fall asleep lying on my back reading a book. I wake up when my grip relaxes on the book and it tips forward and hits me in the face. Then, I quick turn the light off and go back to sleep in order to avoid things like I mentioned in #2. If I don’t fall asleep fast enough, I read some more. And sometimes I still wake up to my bed shaking just the tiniest bit.

4. I’m afraid of the dark. (surprise)

5. I talk in my sleep. Bryan used to try to wake me up to tell me I’m asleep, but I would get really mad and wake myself up shouting, “I. AM. NOT. SLEEPING!” and then I would go, “nevermind,” like Gilda Radner’s Emily Litella.

6. I do not like animals.

7. On a normal day, I get up early, run, and get my day going, but when I have an appointment or something out of the ordinary that I really have to do, I procrastinate. I get up later, run later, sit in front of the computer longer, and just generally dilly-dally. I don’t know why.

And I have to admit that the whole time we were in West Virginia, I’m the only one who walked around affecting a southern accent and saying things like “Let’s get us some grits, ya’ll!” Berkeley Springs is only about 8 miles into WV, so it’s pretty much Maryland. Not that you couldn’t get yourself some grits, but still.

As promised, my brother and sister-in-law took us to see the Weber Brothers and they were fabulous with their 2 drum sets and their stand-up bass and their way cool original music plus Johnny Cash and Rolling Stones and Bruce Springsteen and stuff. They even invited my brother to go up and sing Sympathy for the Devil with them, which was nice because Mike knows how to do that kind of thing. Plus he’s their #1 groupie. I love them, love them, love them and I’m pretending they’re moving to Columbus to play every night at Victorians’ Midnight Cafe. Let’s start a letter-writing campaign. You won’t be sorry. They had 2 drum sets! And the one brother plays a stand-up bass! And the other one reminds me of Rufus Wainwright only way cooler! And they rock! And stand-up bass! I even love them when they’re playing songs I don’t know, which for me is kind of a big deal. If I can’t sing along, then I’m all, “This is too loud. Can’t they turn it down?” but not with the Weber Brothers. They could play Enya and I’m pretty sure I would drool.

They played at a place called the Troubadour, which was waaaayy out there on some narrow, winding, hilly roads that really looked like what you think West Virginia should look like. It’s the kind of place that has a sweet 72-year-old owner (Joltin’ Jim McCoy) and a barbecue grill in the shape of a six shooter. And they raffled off 10 pounds of bacon. Twice. Yes, they did. I bet it was good bacon, too, because my brother ordered a steak there and it was the best tasting steak I have ever had in a restaurant. It tasted like the cow had been killed that morning after a breakfast of grass grown by angels. I’m not kidding. I’m a beef snob and that was some good beef. I imagine the pork would be nothing less than heavenly. Not Jewish or Muslim heaven, obviously, but definitely one of the other ones. One little piece of advice just in case you city folk are ever thinking of visiting the Troubadour: Don’t think that just because it’s way out in the country that they’re going to let you get away with fast and loose behavior. The rules are posted and it says right there that you may not sleep in the booths or your vehicle. Got it, y’all? They will cut you off before you reach that point. For real.

It could be guacamole. God bless avocado season. I regularly pay $1.50 for avocadoes, so I’m in heaven when they’re 66 cents! Or it could be frosting from my birthday cake yesterday. My lovely husband and children baked me a white cake with chocolate frosting. My favorite. I’m special. I’m 33 now, which is how old Jesus was when he died, in case you were wondering. I could be at risk for crucifixion. I could be. You don’t know. I’m definitely at risk for leaving the house with frosting or guacamole on my face. That’s a given.

I had a good birthday until my stupid van started smoking. Effin’ machinery. Pontiac piece of crap. We’re supposed to go to West Virginia this weekend to visit my brother and his family and see The Weber Brothers
play. For free. They played at my brother’s wedding. I have a picture of them, but I can’t make it show up in my stupid blog. Effin’ blog. Do you hear me, Dawn? I say, I can’t get a picture to upload. I was yelling that, but I didn’t put it in all caps. Just trust me. So, we assume the mechanic will want to be paid for fixing the stupid van, which might mean no free Weber Brothers for us since we’ll have to spend the billion dollars of gas money that we were saving for the trip on fixing the stupid van. I hate budgets. Except for the part where they help us be debt-free, budgets suck. And they’re lame.

Now I want more guacamole and I’m going to have some because our budget allows for unlimited avocadoes when they’re 66 cents each.