There's someone for everyone

Last night, The Texan and I got into a rather heated discussion at our favorite bar, Drink. The topic at hand? How economics uses rational choice to explain individuals' behavior. (We're fun at parties too.) It was right when I was practically pounding the bar as I was shouting about the benefits that utility curves measure when I realized that a, I needed to chill the fuck out or risk being the first person tossed from the bar for an economics fight, and b, The Texan deserves a gold star for putting up with me. Instead, I bought him a tequila shot and called it even.

Also, today? Very hungover. We had been at a restaurant earlier that had had a wine-tasting where not enough people had shown up, so our server was surreptiously pouring me free glasses of leftover wine. And if you think I have more pride than to drink leftover wine, you would be oh so wrong. The Texan had to pry my fingers off of my wine glass so that we could leave.

Just so you know

I have a zit on my left temple that looks EXACTLY like someone pegged me in the face with a BB pellet. I have never seen anything so perfectly round, so perfectly red, so perfectly repellent to cover-up. People, I am the makeup queen and - sadly - have years of experience in using it to cover my imperfections. If I can't hide it, no one can.

I should've known this would've been a special case: I've been watching it come for the past week. I knew it was going to be a doozy - at my decrepit age, you start to learn these things - and yet I am still shocked at its garishness. The only thing that can heal this bad boy is time. In the meanwhile, I'll have to walk around looking like Headwound Harry.

The madness continues

Last night was the commencement of what, in my unbiased opinion, is the greatest television show availalble: The Amazing Race 10 (TAR10). YAY! Just hearing the theme song puts me in a happy place. Plus, because it was the first episode and thus was chock-full of teams, it was 90 minutes instead of the normal 60.

*annoyingly rabid spoilers to follow*

I was honestly SHOCKED to see them eliminate the Muslims half-way through the leg. That's never been done before, and looking at the faces of the other contestants, that really shook everyone up. I can't say I'm that upset about the loss of those two - didn't really bond with them the few minutes that they were on-screen. And the elimination of the Indian couple wasn't any real surprise - both teams hadn't done that well at any of the tasks. (But what was up with three teams being unable to start their cars when they left the start line? Not auspicious). Of course, they had some great shots of dimwittery by the contestants as always. A particularly good one was of the cheerleaders while in line at the airport. Honest to god, they had a conversation that went like this:

Blond Cheer: Do Muslims believe in Buddha?
Brunette Cheer: *pause* I don't know.

And the team of the so-called "smart guys" brought a WATER GUN through airport security and unsuprisingly had it hustled off real quick-like.

The ending of the leg, with them scaling up the Great Wall of China, was fantastic. And after the woman missing half a leg was able to do it, everyone else who complained seemed like, well, a big cry-baby.

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I really needed the pick-me-up yesterday, as I'd spent the afternoon at the fifth circle of hell: San Antonio's bridal expo. It was so depressing, for some reason, even though there was plenty of free cake. Maybe it's because there was not an ounce of free champagne. Now that just blows. But it was a lot of mediocre food and vendors selling things I have zero interest in (racing limo? I don't think so). Plus the fashion show was filled with brides wearing strapless gowns that were falling off of them. Even with the presence of shirtless men, which they resorted to half-way through, it wasn't worth watching.

BTW: America, when did you decide that the only bridal gown worth having was a strapless one? WE ARE NOT ALL SIZE 4 TWENTY-TWO YEAR-OLDS ANXIOUS TO SHOW OFF OUR UPPER ARMS. I'd say 90 percent of the gowns were strapless. Every once in a while, they'd throw in a halter or spaghetti strap gown, but that was it. And, um, to put it diplomatically, if the bridal expo I was at is any indication, I am not the only bride who shouldn't be wearing a strapless gown.

But, I did get a bead on a cake shop that had melt-in-your-mouth delicious cake. Now that is important. Also, The Texan has expressed an interest in having an ice sculpture, and there was a booth there displaying some, so I got their information. Yesterday's trip got the bridal expo urge out of my system so now I can focus on what's important: TAR10.

Not for the oenophiles

I love me some wine. It was a taste that came about relatively late in life - when I first moved to Italy after college, I would put ice cubes in red wine, a move that horrified my Belgian roommate no end - but it's a love that has grown through the years. Specifically, I love red wine. I know that studies have shown that even experts can't tell the difference between red and white wine when blindfolded, and I have been to tasting parties where I've confused the two, but I'm sticking to my guns here. Am all about the red wine.

I even bought several bottles of a locally-grown Sangiovese blend when we were in Fredericksburg this weekend. Because what better place to grow an Italian grape than Texas' Hill Country? (BTW: One bottle down already. It's good stuff.)

So to sum: red wine makes me happy and I usually have a glass or so most days.

I've also been trying to eat healthier these days. Yes, I realize that perhaps massive quantities of wine is at crosspurposes with that idea. So I checked out how many calories a glass has. 120, not so bad, less than most beers. But imagine my horror when I found out what's considered to be a "glass"?

HALF A CUP.

Try and measure that out some time. It's like three drops in a wine glass... and that's the small kind. We bought some beautiful wooden goblets while in Jamaica this spring and I cringe to think of how many servings of wine each one holds.

Damn nutritional labels. I blame them. I'm sure my warped idea of what a "glass" should be has nothing to do with the super-sizing of American portions.

Read 'em and weep

Last weekend, when we drove to Corpus Christi to go to the beach (North Padre Island RAWKS), we paid an insane amount of money for gas. Guess. Just guess. Lower. Nope, lower. Lower still.

Give up?

$2.35/gallon!

Even for an oil-processing city in an oil-rich state, that is unbelievable.

And Texas also allows you to drive on the beach, drink beer (that's in cans) while at the beach, and best of all, bring your dog to the beach. All plusses, in my opinion.

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And I hate to post links to YouTube, especially ones that are nearly a year old, but this clip has to be seen to be believed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwCEnFhr6gw. Meet Hawkeye, the scuba-diving cat, and her best friend, Mutton, the scuba-diving dog. This cat is the kind of pet I've always wanted - basically an inert throw pillow that's not unlike a stuffed animal. I think that when my life flashes before my eyes, if the gods are kind to me, the last thing I'll see is Hawkeye floating placidly along in her scuba rig.

Of course, it makes you wonder how many iterations her owner had to go through before settling on the proper equipment that would allow the cat to scuba dive. Perhaps this isn't the first Hawkeye?

And while normally TV reporters who have to do these kinds of fluff stories sound like they're ready to slit their wrists, this guy narrating this piece has the voice of a man who's found gold. Which he has. I mean, the news team had to get an underwater camera and everything, and you know what? Totally worth it.

Something cat owners don't have to worry about

If your suit is covered with dog hair, and you get caught outside in the rain, you're going to smell like a wet dog. Not that anything like that has ever happened to me.

The perils of intra-office fraternization

Now, I am a big proponent of the office happy hour. It's a good way just to relax with your co-workers and establish little connections independent of how much everyone hates that one weirdo in far hallway (although that kind of hatred has been known to draw people together just fine).

However, these are generally people who you need to maintain a modicum of respect for, and ensure that when they see you at the office meeting on Monday, their thoughts of you won't be interspersed with the massive amounts of jello shots you were able to down the previous Friday.

I speak of this because Friday night, The Texan and I went out for a late-ish dinner. We went to a restaurant that prides itself on its authentic Jamaican jerk chicken and pork. One thing was certainly authentic Jamaican about the place: the drunk, obnoxious Americans cavorting in the back. This was around 9PM and this group had clearly left the office early to get a start on the long weekend. They were taking pictures with the office camera - fair enough. Except they were hosing each other down (and a few of the women were wearing white shirts), taking off pants, having gravel fights, and throwing shoes around. Plus for some reason they'd brought their clearly not a seeing eye dog with them INSIDE the restaurant. None of this is something that the boss would want to see come Monday.

We didn't stay long, having had to duck an errant shoe. Maybe I'm somewhat bitter since, working at home, my office happy hours consist of popping open a bottle of wine while I watch "Gilmore Girls" on the DVR. But that just seems like a very bad scene waiting to happen.

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BTW: My new favorite radio station is http://www.kngy.com/index_up.html, Energy 92.7. It's a dance radio station that broadcasts out of SF and allows you to listen live over the interweb. While it is a bit disconcerting to listen to another city's traffic issues, it overall is a great station. This past weekend they had a countdown of the best dance songs *ever.* Only one miss: Ace of Base's "I saw the sign." Come on, people still like that song? Other than that, hours - no exaggeration - of great listening.