Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Danger! Drought!

Of the many things I find humorous about living in North Carolina, one that stands out is this constant worry that we're in a major drought. Just this morning, on NPR, the local news was all about major water conservation! Action people! We're in a drought! Don't water your lawns (Editors Note: You don't have to because it rains...a lot.) And don't wash your cars! In fact, don't even do your laundry or take a shower because we're about to run out of water! And while you're at it, make sure you buy that there bottle'ed wata' from o'er there in South Carolin', 'cause we shoore don' wanna' use up our 'heay wata'.

Um, "y'all" don't know what a drought or dry weather is.

The grass here is GREEN in the summer. We actually have rain here (a lot of rain) in the summer. And half the state doesn't catch on fire every time we have a thunderstorm. Or anytime anyone even fantasizes about fireworks. I guess the Californian in me remains quite incredulous that people here panic if we don't surpass 40 inches of rain a year.

Here are some stats:
Average rainfall in Greensboro/Winston-Salem: 44.5 inches
Average rainfall in Seattle, WA: 37 inches
Average rainfall in Portland, OR: 37 inches
Average rainfall in San Luis Obispo, CA (the hometown in my heart): 24 inches

Am I making a point? We're not in a "drought," people. We're doing just fine. So please, by all means, take a shower.

Friday, July 25, 2008

Rules for living

I don't trust people who:

A. Don't drink coffee.

B. Liked high school.

C. Think all babies are cute.

D. Aren't at least a little cynical, most of the time.

Sum-yum

I have had something(s) to drink every single night this month. No, I’m not in college anymore. If I were at the docs office filling out one of those lame “medications and lifestyle” questionnaires, I’d have to pick option D below:
How many alcoholic beverages do you consume weekly?
a. 1-2
b. 3-4
c. 5-6
d. 7-8+

I’m blaming it on the Tour de France. It’s not good and proper to watch Le Tour without a cold Hooegarden in hand.*And you can’t drink just one—just like betcha can’t eat just one! of those Pringles things. Hoogarden has some sort of jig set up, whereby opening one beer automatically pops a hole into the bottle next to it, forcing you to drink both. Quickly. So I do. Quickly.
But I don’t have a “problem” per se, with the frosties, because I’m pretty convinced that at the end of this glorious summer month, I would check the 5-6 box, if queried.
It’s been a pleasant enough summer, I suppose. I’m mad that July is almost over, though, and not just because it will take away my excuse to drink every night. August means that the fall is coming, and with fall comes the dreaded “The Dropping of Leaves” as I like to call it. That’s the process whereby the beautiful, verdant trees in these southern parts suddenly shed their foliage, leaving me quite depressed for three months. I'm especially not excited about the dreaded Winter-season of '08 that's so quickly approaching. I can already feel the pre-flashbacks that will surely strike me in January of '09 as "The Anniversary" of my breakup occurs. How convenient. It will fall during the most depressing time of the year. I'm digressing. I think it's still July.

Even though I’m literally leeching my inner parts of all their salts and fluids every time I run, I will miss the humidity once the fall comes. There’s something just sickingly refreshing about sweating out a few liters of fluid during my weekend trail runs. I feel so sporty as I wring out my shorts at the end of my runs. Of course, the fact that my pee is highlighter 80s-era neon yellow for the next three days is a bit disturbing, but no matter.

On a totally unrelated note, I’m totally enamored with dresses right now. You know, those cotton-y, stretchy numbers that are all รก la mode this summer? Maybe it’s because wearing a dress takes the guesswork out of trying match my clothes. Always a struggle. I just throw on one of the stretchies, a pair of shoes that my beloved dog hasn’t chewed, and I’m on my way. Plus, now that I’m officially getting old, I figure I should show off my legs while I still got ‘em.

*Also known as the best beer EVER.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Henry



This is Henry, the Bulldog. He's my ex-boyfriend's sister-in-law's dog, whom I'm dog-sitting for the next three days.
Don't ask. It's complicated.

Monday, July 07, 2008

The Tour


The tour has begunnuth. I look forward to July all year because no matter how stressed or sad or whatever it is I’m feeling, if I’m watching a cycling race, my problems are suspended for those few hours.
This will be an interesting tour. No huge contenders. I’m sure doping scandals will erupt. They always do—even though the teams (American ones, at least) are taking extra precautions against doping. I’m predicting it will be the hypocritical French that get caught with the EPO bags stuffed in the trunk. Serves em right. They’re always in denial about their own drug problems. If you don’t believe me, Google “Richard Virenque.”
I haven’t yet picked a favorite. I’d love to see an underdog win—someone come up from out of the blue. Like last year—Contador gave life to a sordid drug mess.
Vive le tour.