Had a little convo with the theater god after he got home and read yesterday's post.
TG: "You left out the best part."
Me: "I did?" Not the shoe thing again.
TG: "Yeah. You know."
Me: I do? Please, not the shoes....
TG: *meaningful look*
Me: *gulp* "Oh, yeah. I was trying to block that from my mind. Because it wasn't my fault!"
TG: "Yes, it was."
Me: "Okay. Maybe. But it wasn't significant."
TG: "Like hell! It's significant that I ever asked you out again after that."
Me: "Oh, for Pete's sake. So I melted a little. Most guys like it if they can make their girlfriends melt."
TG: "You didn't melt. Your shoes melted. All over my chrome exhaust system."
Me: "Well, how was I supposed to know it was too hot to rest my heels on?"
TG: "It was an exhaust system!"
Me: *stares blankly*
TG: "Admit it. You only did it because I didn't bring toilet paper."
Me: "I am not that petty!" Heh-heh-heh.
TG: "I just think it's important to note I did not yell when I saw what you'd done, even though my pristine chrome was ruined. "
Me: "Hey, I didn't yell when I saw how your stupid motorcycle ruined my shoes, either."
TG: "And that's why we were meant for each other."
Additional things I learned on that camping trip:
1. Motorcycle exhaust systems get hot enough to melt the rubber soles of shoes.
2. When your feet keep sliding around, your soles might be melting.
3. You should probably keep your feet on the handy-dandy little flip-out pegs that are meant for, yannoh, your feet.
4. A guy who doesn't yell when you maim his precious motorcycle is probably a keeper.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
From wiggling my bait to bait-and-switch, subtitled: "Sorry about that, honey!"
Loyal blog readers might recall the story of how the theater god and I met when I wiggled my bait on stage where we worked. Early in our relationship, when the Glow of the New overpowered everything else, I was eager to learn all there was to know about my honey. If it involved TG, I was interested.
Reading Tawna Fenske's (Agency Sistah Extraordinaire) blog post about her camping trip with her hubs, I got to thinking about my own past alfresco experiences with TG. Because, yep, you guessed it, TG loves the great outdoors.
Huh. Well, he sure chose a strange profession, considering. *blink*
Be that as it may, when I found out about TG's avid passion for Mother Nature, I was willing to give it a go. I mean, I liked some things about being outside. Horseback riding, for one. And...um...well, horseback riding. But honestly? If they'd made air conditioned indoor riding trails, I'd have finger-waved* buh-bye to Mama Nat early on.**
Alas, the new love of my life liked being outside whenever he wasn't holed up in a dark theater. So when he asked if I wanted to go tubing on the Guadalupe with him and a bunch of our theater buddies for our second date, I naturally said, "Tubing? Oh, I love tubing!" while secretly thinking, Tubing? What the hell is tubing? Sounds naughty.
In case you're curious, this is tubing on the Guadalupe (not us, of course, though our group did have a cooler in its own inner tube a lot like the one shown here; also, I'm pretty sure these are the same rapids, AND we wiped out just like these guys***) (Oh, and don't feel like you have to watch the whole video. Really, it's just for flavor.):
Since there was a shortage of inner tubes on our tubing trip, TG kindly volunteered us to share one. Wasn't that altruistic of him? And I'm sure it wasn't just so he could cop a feel when he "steadied me" after every rough patch of water.
We survived the trip, despite almost drowning when we flipped entirely over at one particularly treacherous point. Gah. Have I mentioned how much I hate getting water in my nose?
Hardly anyone got past that stretch of the river intact, a fact well known by the little boy--seriously, he looked about 10--with the snorkeling gear who stuck his face in the water every time a girl went past on a tube. Seems it was quite common for bathing suit tops not to...um, maintain their hold on the girls, shall we say...after an encounter with the tumbling water. And don't think that budding perv didn't know it!
For the prurient among you, no, my top did not survive the encounter, either, but TG was quick on the uptake, and pressed me quickly to his chest before the kid could get a good look at me. Wasn't that thoughtful of TG? And, really, it didn't take him that long to help me hitch my top back up.
Of course, after our date was over, I raved about what a good time I'd had. I mean, I'm a polite person. What was I going to say? Certainly not, "No way in hell are we ever doing that again." (Though we have not, in fact, been tubing on the Guadalupe since then, much to TG's dismay.)
But that doesn't mean I wanted to give up entirely on learning to share TG's love of Mother (-effing) Nature. So when he invited me along on a camping trip I said, "Sure! I love camping!" while secretly thinking, Camping? How bad can it be? Aren't there s'mores with camping?
Nope, I'd never been camping. I come from a non-camping family. I was briefly in the Brownies, but all we ever did was glue alphabet macaroni on Popsicle sticks to spell out the Brownie pledge. Nothing "fun" like camping. So maybe I wasn't exposed to it at an early enough age for it to imprint on my psyche.
Some things I found out about camping:
1. When your mode of transportation is a motorcycle, you don't have room to bring a lot of extras. Say, like, portable camping toilets. Or toilet paper.
2. Guys don't seem to mind the above nearly as much as girls do.
3. Maybe because they can pee standing up without getting their feet wet.
4. Squatting over the woodland floor brings you waaay too close to Mother Earth. AND the small, crawly creatures that inhabit her. As for clean-up: "Here, use these leaves. But whatever you do, don't use those leaves." Help! They look the same to me!
[Does this list seem overly preoccupied with the call of nature? Well, believe me, it seemed vitally important at the time.]
5. Don't eat canned beans for dinner and then zip yourself up in tiny 2-person tent with a guy unless you want to learn the real definition of "intimacy."
6. Mosquitoes in Texas could give the Cullen family a run for its money.
7. S'mores are just as good when you fix them at home, over the stove, in an air conditioned kitchen, as they are when you toast the marshmallows over an open fire while terrified a bear will show up at any second. Better, in fact.
8. It is absolutely mind-boggling what you do in the name of love.
After TG and I married and started procreating, I no longer felt a pressing need to try to like camping. I'd been willing to give a try, because I knew how much he loved it, and I thought there was a slim possibility that I might grow to love it, too.
Hey, it could have happened!
Of course, TG is still claiming it was bait-and-switch the whole way. Thought he was marrying an out-doorsy girl when in fact he hitched his star to an indoor-plumbing-loving wuss.
What can I say? Um, sorry about that, honey!
*Feel free to guess which finger.
**Granted, if I'd been capable of turning a sexy, golden-brown in the sun, I might have felt differently.
***TG tells me I am mis-remembering, that our rapids were much gentler, more akin to the "Lazy River" ride at the typical water park. But this is the way I remember it. And it's my blog, so nyah. :P
Reading Tawna Fenske's (Agency Sistah Extraordinaire) blog post about her camping trip with her hubs, I got to thinking about my own past alfresco experiences with TG. Because, yep, you guessed it, TG loves the great outdoors.
Huh. Well, he sure chose a strange profession, considering. *blink*
Be that as it may, when I found out about TG's avid passion for Mother Nature, I was willing to give it a go. I mean, I liked some things about being outside. Horseback riding, for one. And...um...well, horseback riding. But honestly? If they'd made air conditioned indoor riding trails, I'd have finger-waved* buh-bye to Mama Nat early on.**
Alas, the new love of my life liked being outside whenever he wasn't holed up in a dark theater. So when he asked if I wanted to go tubing on the Guadalupe with him and a bunch of our theater buddies for our second date, I naturally said, "Tubing? Oh, I love tubing!" while secretly thinking, Tubing? What the hell is tubing? Sounds naughty.
In case you're curious, this is tubing on the Guadalupe (not us, of course, though our group did have a cooler in its own inner tube a lot like the one shown here; also, I'm pretty sure these are the same rapids, AND we wiped out just like these guys***) (Oh, and don't feel like you have to watch the whole video. Really, it's just for flavor.):
Since there was a shortage of inner tubes on our tubing trip, TG kindly volunteered us to share one. Wasn't that altruistic of him? And I'm sure it wasn't just so he could cop a feel when he "steadied me" after every rough patch of water.
We survived the trip, despite almost drowning when we flipped entirely over at one particularly treacherous point. Gah. Have I mentioned how much I hate getting water in my nose?
Hardly anyone got past that stretch of the river intact, a fact well known by the little boy--seriously, he looked about 10--with the snorkeling gear who stuck his face in the water every time a girl went past on a tube. Seems it was quite common for bathing suit tops not to...um, maintain their hold on the girls, shall we say...after an encounter with the tumbling water. And don't think that budding perv didn't know it!
For the prurient among you, no, my top did not survive the encounter, either, but TG was quick on the uptake, and pressed me quickly to his chest before the kid could get a good look at me. Wasn't that thoughtful of TG? And, really, it didn't take him that long to help me hitch my top back up.
Of course, after our date was over, I raved about what a good time I'd had. I mean, I'm a polite person. What was I going to say? Certainly not, "No way in hell are we ever doing that again." (Though we have not, in fact, been tubing on the Guadalupe since then, much to TG's dismay.)
But that doesn't mean I wanted to give up entirely on learning to share TG's love of Mother (-effing) Nature. So when he invited me along on a camping trip I said, "Sure! I love camping!" while secretly thinking, Camping? How bad can it be? Aren't there s'mores with camping?
Nope, I'd never been camping. I come from a non-camping family. I was briefly in the Brownies, but all we ever did was glue alphabet macaroni on Popsicle sticks to spell out the Brownie pledge. Nothing "fun" like camping. So maybe I wasn't exposed to it at an early enough age for it to imprint on my psyche.
Some things I found out about camping:
1. When your mode of transportation is a motorcycle, you don't have room to bring a lot of extras. Say, like, portable camping toilets. Or toilet paper.
2. Guys don't seem to mind the above nearly as much as girls do.
3. Maybe because they can pee standing up without getting their feet wet.
4. Squatting over the woodland floor brings you waaay too close to Mother Earth. AND the small, crawly creatures that inhabit her. As for clean-up: "Here, use these leaves. But whatever you do, don't use those leaves." Help! They look the same to me!
[Does this list seem overly preoccupied with the call of nature? Well, believe me, it seemed vitally important at the time.]
5. Don't eat canned beans for dinner and then zip yourself up in tiny 2-person tent with a guy unless you want to learn the real definition of "intimacy."
6. Mosquitoes in Texas could give the Cullen family a run for its money.
7. S'mores are just as good when you fix them at home, over the stove, in an air conditioned kitchen, as they are when you toast the marshmallows over an open fire while terrified a bear will show up at any second. Better, in fact.
8. It is absolutely mind-boggling what you do in the name of love.
After TG and I married and started procreating, I no longer felt a pressing need to try to like camping. I'd been willing to give a try, because I knew how much he loved it, and I thought there was a slim possibility that I might grow to love it, too.
Hey, it could have happened!
Of course, TG is still claiming it was bait-and-switch the whole way. Thought he was marrying an out-doorsy girl when in fact he hitched his star to an indoor-plumbing-loving wuss.
What can I say? Um, sorry about that, honey!
*Feel free to guess which finger.
**Granted, if I'd been capable of turning a sexy, golden-brown in the sun, I might have felt differently.
***TG tells me I am mis-remembering, that our rapids were much gentler, more akin to the "Lazy River" ride at the typical water park. But this is the way I remember it. And it's my blog, so nyah. :P
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Hot and bothered...
...and not in the good way.
Ugh. It is steamy outside. Hot, hot, hot...but I'm not allowed to complain about it because back in February, during the Snowpocalypse, I swore to myself I would not bitch and moan about weather that does not involve shoveling.
Back then, I would have welcomed 100 degrees F with open arms, while I whispered "Ooooh, hot stuff, burn me some more" in its sizzling little ear.
Yeah. I know. It's all about what you don't have at the moment, isn't it?
But, since I am a woman of my word (even if it's only my word to myself, with nothing signed in blood*), I will now try to come up with:
10 Reasons I Love The Hot Weather
1. I get to walk around barefoot without my feet freezing. I hate wearing shoes, so this is a big plus.
2. CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM!
3. TG grills something delicious almost every night he doesn't have a show or rehearsal. Yum! Plus, no cooking for me--YAY!
4. I don't feel guilty for skipping my daily 2.5 mile walk. In fact, I even feel virtuous about it, because I am sparing some poor stranger the trauma of finding my dead-from-heatstroke body on the trail.
5. VANILLA ICE CREAM! (I'm not that picky about ice cream.)
6. Frosty mugs of icy cold beer.
7. Movie theaters with the a/c cranked up just a little too much, so I have to actually bring a long-sleeved shirt with me.
8. Watermelon. With seeds, without seeds, pink or that weird yellow kind, big or tiny. Doesn't matter to me, 'cuz I loves me some good watermelon.
9. Tomatoes from our garden, eaten still warm from the sun. (Alas, this one will have to wait until they ripen, but it's something to look forward to.)
10. CHERRY ICE CREAM! (Uh, yeah. Told you--not picky.)
How about y'all? Got any reasons that'll make me love this hot weather? I sure could use a few more!
*Okay, that is my official weasel clause, in case I just can't stand it as the thermometer rises, and I let loose with an un-hold-back-able stream of complaints.
Ugh. It is steamy outside. Hot, hot, hot...but I'm not allowed to complain about it because back in February, during the Snowpocalypse, I swore to myself I would not bitch and moan about weather that does not involve shoveling.
Back then, I would have welcomed 100 degrees F with open arms, while I whispered "Ooooh, hot stuff, burn me some more" in its sizzling little ear.
Yeah. I know. It's all about what you don't have at the moment, isn't it?
But, since I am a woman of my word (even if it's only my word to myself, with nothing signed in blood*), I will now try to come up with:
10 Reasons I Love The Hot Weather
1. I get to walk around barefoot without my feet freezing. I hate wearing shoes, so this is a big plus.
2. CHOCOLATE ICE CREAM!
3. TG grills something delicious almost every night he doesn't have a show or rehearsal. Yum! Plus, no cooking for me--YAY!
4. I don't feel guilty for skipping my daily 2.5 mile walk. In fact, I even feel virtuous about it, because I am sparing some poor stranger the trauma of finding my dead-from-heatstroke body on the trail.
5. VANILLA ICE CREAM! (I'm not that picky about ice cream.)
6. Frosty mugs of icy cold beer.
7. Movie theaters with the a/c cranked up just a little too much, so I have to actually bring a long-sleeved shirt with me.
8. Watermelon. With seeds, without seeds, pink or that weird yellow kind, big or tiny. Doesn't matter to me, 'cuz I loves me some good watermelon.
9. Tomatoes from our garden, eaten still warm from the sun. (Alas, this one will have to wait until they ripen, but it's something to look forward to.)
10. CHERRY ICE CREAM! (Uh, yeah. Told you--not picky.)
How about y'all? Got any reasons that'll make me love this hot weather? I sure could use a few more!
*Okay, that is my official weasel clause, in case I just can't stand it as the thermometer rises, and I let loose with an un-hold-back-able stream of complaints.
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