Water Logged.

On the way home from our trip to Canada last weekend Kenny and I stopped mid-way home at the rest area to let old liquid out and buy new liquid to put in. We were soda and coffee-d out and both of us were thirsty for a refreshing drink of water.

So many bottles of water to choose from! Everyone has a favorite, too, and somewhere along the line we all became convinced that the more expensive waters must be better. Sucker for marketing that I am, I have long held Fiji water at the top of the my favorite bottled water list. I had two bottles of Nestle PureLife water in my hands, but then I spied the Fiji across the way in another section of beverage refrigerators.

"Oh, I'm going to get the Fiji water, it's the BEST! Put this one back for me, please."

Kenny: "There is no difference in these waters, you just THINK there is because it has a palm leaf on the bottle and costs more."

Me: "Oh, no, I can TASTE the difference - it's MUCH MUCH better."

Kenny: "Really?? Well, let's do a little taste test and see if you can tell the difference then."

I cockily replied, "I know I can tell the Fiji water from the rest." So we purchased three different bottles of water for our Rest Stop Taste Challenge of '09. As we were checking out, the lady at the register commented on the Fiji water as she was ringing it up, "Oh, this is really good water, you can taste the difference." I smugly turned to Kenny and nodded.

The stakes we were tasting for was $20. Not an enormous amount, but what are we going to do, bet a million dollars? The money didn't matter as much as proving who was right.

The taste-off contenders we chose were: Nestle PureLife (a purified water with minerals added, and the least expensive), Dasani (a purified water, mid-priced and a product of Coca-Cola Company) and Fiji (artesian spring water bottled at the source right there in FIJI!), the highest-ticket water of the group.

(Yes, the picture of the water line-up was taken at home, not during the taste-off).

I grabbed some little paper condiment cups at the Burger King spot and we headed to the car to let the taste-off begin. I marked the names of the water on the bottom of the cups and then I closed my eyes while Kenny filled them and then arranged them in surprise order on the dashboard:

After three attempts, I was never able to correctly name even one of the water cups! Not only that, but the one I thought was the most-expensive Fiji was in fact the least-expensive PureLife water with added minerals.

Kenny laughed so hard on the drive home I thought he was going to wreck the car. I told him to shut the fuck up, but it really did no good. He gloated in a most unbecoming manner. But regardless, I did learn which water I liked the most and for once it's the cheap stuff!

Tonight we went to Giant Eagle for a few necessities (cat food, unspoiled milk, fruit, etc) and my attention was immediately caught by the advertised Smart Water, 10 for $10. I threw two in the cart, much to Kenny's disbelief. I admitted that I only wanted it because it's what Jennifer Aniston drinks. And it was only a dollar. But who knows, maybe it will be the most fantastic water EVER and in the morning I'll wake up and look like Jennifer Aniston. Maybe.

Remember The Member

Far too early this morning I had my first of two mandatory Officer's Training sessions for Toastmasters. These meetings are the worst part about taking an officer position with the group. The event took place at the Clarion Hotel in Hudson. To pass the time and keep my mind from atrophying, I mentally wrote a porno.

The scenario began during one of my sessions when a dude started chatting me up - strictly friendly and nothing at all inappropriate, but that didn't matter. We were steps away from a hotel room....isn't that really just the natural thought progression? Or is it just me?

I tried the scenario out later in the afternoon on Kenny. He is now a fan of Toastmasters events.

Oh, it got better when they announced our 2009-2010 District Mantra: Remember The Member. Indeed.

Rude Awakening

Twinkle has picked up the very annoying and perplexing habit of sleeping with his catass on the corner of the bed (next to my head) while his upper body spans out and rests on the Bose Wave radio alarm clock on my nightstand. It's not as big of a stretch as it sounds, we have a kingsize bed in a small Parma-sized bedroom. But it's still weird & must be uncomfortable positioning.

Now, he does tend to sleep on hard and uncomfortable surfaces, for whatever strange cat reason he has. Some of his other sleep choices include:

1. Kenny's hard and pokey-keys keyboard
2. The scale (again, ass on floor, upper body stretched across the scale)
3. Ass half-on the couch arm, body stretched across the end table

See the pattern? Not really a big deal, until he moved his weirdness to the alarm clock. Last week we struggled. Twink reset the time, turned off the alarm, and changed the time from regular to military time. I was waking up in the middle of the night at 23:00 hours - he also set the AM/PM button, it was totally screwed up.

The final straw came Thursday night, when he was adjusting himself and pressed on some button that instantaneously blared some hip/hop station at 3:00 a.m. Needless to say, people & cats went flying up out of that bed. Stanley, who sleeps on a pillow at the head of the bed, vaulted straight up in the air and over my head, kicking off on the nightstand and knocking stuff over in the process. Girlie, who sleeps on Kenny's side of the bed, took off like a cat outta hell, kicking over some stuff on his nightstand. Someone scratched me on both arms as well as a scratch under the cheek of my ass. Kenny and I did our part to add to the chaos by bolting straight up, each of us lunging for the on/off button in tandem. It was quite a moment, not to mention Kenny thought he was going to have a heart attack from the jolt he received. Timmy, who lives below us, got a 3:00 a.m. treat I'm sure he enjoyed.

It was time to take action. So Sunday night I lined up a bunch of items on top of the alarm clock to provide cat blockage. The line up included hand cream, bottled water (closed tightly), nasal spray (I'm a sexy machine at night), and my reading glasses case. I figured those things would deter him from trying to move in on the alarm. Figures, he didn't come to bed.

But Monday night he was back. I awoke to him scooching around near my head, settling in but unable to make the stretch out. Twinkle has been clock-blocked! Let's see if the clock-blocking holds through the week.

Double-Take.

Kenny and I went to Canada this weekend, it was a Huey Lewis Post-Birthday Extravaganza. While we were there, we dined at the casino's Marketplace Buffet on Sunday, where I observed this:

"What am I supposed to be looking at?" you ask yourself. If you haven't already noticed, pay attention to the NAPKINS covering the beverage. Curious. Yes, it stayed like that for the duration of the dining experience, except when towards the end she removed the napkins and drank it all in one swoop. Was she in fear that someone in the buffet was going to slip her a mickey? I don't know, but I do know that she wasn't risking it. Whatever it happened to be.

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Take 2:

Damn, if I'd only had spell check before going final on my gigantic restaurant sign.

All this observed in one day, Folks. You're welcome.

Language Barrier

Tracye: "How was Caesar getting his pills today?"
Kenny: "We had a fight."
Tracye: "Yeah, he doesn't like getting those pills at all."
Kenny, in all seriousness: "Well, he just doesn't understand the importance of it."

Nope. The cat just doesn't understand the importance at all.

Thank You For Shopping. Please Come Again.

Several times today while I was shopping at Walmart I was bothered by other shoppers seeking assistance with various questions: "Can you tell me where I can find.... " fill in the blank. Apparently I looked like I worked there. Now, Reader, I will admit that I didn't put forth much effort in appearance today. I decided to make my way to the gym and cut back on getting-pretty time, settling for a quick post-gym shower, wet hair in pony tail, a lite dusting of powder and a quick coat of mascara. But it wasn't a sweat-pant day. And I put on a bra! It's absolutely not the worst I've ever looked leaving the house, oh, no, not by far. Yet somewhere the effort wasn't quite enough to secure me as a shopper vs. worker. Some dude who asked me where he could find mulch said it was my blue shirt that confused him. Really? That's for playing, but I don't buy your story. I looked just hillbilly enough. It's a fine line I walk some days. Some days I don't make it to the other side.

My trip to Walmart yielded the following items:
Peanut butter filled Oreos cookies. Yes, I know, I know - negates the whole trip to the gym. But they're PEANUT BUTTER FILLED OREOS!! Hormonal women are not meant or expected to pass those by. I've naturally tried a couple of them and they haven't met my expectations. They're okay, but not so great I would have to buy them again. The originals are just too hard to beat. Maybe I'll give them another chance with the aid of milk for dunking.

Herbs and flowers. And a tomato plant. Prices are cheap at the moment, so I planted some cilantro, thyme and sweet basil, hoping to fresh-herb myself silly this summer. I like the cilantro for my homemade corn salsa, and the plant was $3, which is much cheaper than buying fresh cilantro at Giant Eagle. So we'll see how this works out. Now, the other part of this cilanto-buying story goes like this. A co-worker started a bunch of herbs from seeds a month or so ago and gave me a little cup of cilantro for replanting. It never made it to a real pot and died on the window sill. I hope I have better luck this go-round.

KY-Gel. Now, let me tell you about this. I've seen this stuff advertised on t.v. and it piqued my curiousity with it's promise to intensify my satisfaction. Who wouldn't want the most intense satisfaction imaginable?? So I checked it out a month or so ago when we were shopping, and I was startled by the high-ticket price of $24.00. My satisfaction wasn't bad as it was, and I knew I could guarantee more intense pleasure if I spent that $24 on a new blouse. So I skipped it. But today, I decided my vagina was worth $24 and I splurged and brought it home.

Kenny came home from work and I started stripping down before he even got his shoes off, I told him we had to put this to the test. For curious minds, I'll tell you it kinda felt like Vicks Vaporub, only not so sting-ie. Was my pleasure more intense? I don't know. I think it's kinda like the peanut-butter filled oreos. Not bad, but not all I had envisioned. I think I expected fireworks to go off between my legs. Maybe, like the oreos, I'll try it with a glass of milk next time.

The *couldn't come soon enough for some readers* end.