I just heard a statement that made my breath catch in my throat.

A co-worker (whom I can't see when sitting in my cube because she's on the same side and at the far end) interjected herself into a conversation I was having with my other co-worker (sits across from her and I can see him). That in itself is fine, but then, since he and I were talking about beer (why wouldn't we be, at work...), she said, "I've probably only had 5 beers in my life."

I was stunned.

She proceeded to say that although she'd tried several kinds, she just couldn't get used to the taste, so never has liked it. I find it surprising she can make such a quick, snappy decision about a staple of life.

Let's pretend she took a good 3 gulps out of all the myriad of beers she's tried...that's STILL not enough to pass over the taste buds (and repeatedly) to form an opinion.* Plus, let's not forget, since she's NOT a beer drinker, then she's most likely a foo-foo drinker. When you're drinking foo-foo drinks (defined as any blended, wildly colored or otherwise girly drink; normally accompanied by dorky garnishments), you need to cleanse the palette before trying a beer. This oh-so-important step was most assuredly not taken.

Sigh.

In the same vein, the dude I was talking to originally about beers said something to the effect of "cracking a beer" when he gets home after work. (Not necessarily an alcoholic - especially if he stops at 1.) I had to ask what kind of beer he drinks, if he's "cracking" one - see, us Bottle Drinkers don't use that expression; it's solely reserved for Can Drinkers - and he responded "Coors Light". BLECK.

For once, I feel superior (as a beer drinker, anyway) and snobby...and rightly so. After all, we're not in college anymore - there's no need to be drinking inferior brews. That being said, I have a dear friend who still chugs Busch Light like it's going out of style, and I'm OK with that. She and her husband take me out on their boat, so...when in Rome :)

These have been random thoughts brought to you by the left brain. I say left brain because they're very logical opinions and have hard facts to back them.



* Unless, of course, you're an avid beer drinker. Then you have carte blanche in regards to beer opining.

Compilation of Random Things

I can't believe the last time I "dogged" (blogged about my dog) was in March. Granted, how many posts and comments could I possibly have to offer on a regular basis, but still. She is, after all, my "furry baby" and there's not a whole lot I can do in life without having to think of the implications (re: her). Come to think of it, it's quite similar, I imagine, to being a single mom.

Anyway, so here's the latest. I'd like to credit Mom for the photography skills.

I'm listening to some little snot-nosed kid screeching right now. That's just not necessary. I'm fairly positive the kid's not dying, so the parental units should be monitoring it and making sure it's quiet. Sheesh.

Sisters? Not yet, but we've already been mistaken for such (let's be honest, by a ... grandfatherly type gentleman). This picture was taken at Penny's bridal shower a couple weeks ago. She not only has a ton of friends, but I've never seen more beautiful blondes all collected in one place in my life.

I found a random ankle hair I'd inadvertently missed (shaving) today. It was a bigun. And BLACK. I'm shocked, because I don't even have black hair ANYWHERE. Random? Yes. Gross? Maybe...I got it, though.

So, I sneezed not too long ago, and got the usual all-over body goosebumps. Does that happen to anyone else? I've been in the sauna before, at 210 degrees (Fahrenheit), sweating like a horse; sneezed and - WHAMO! - instant goosebumps. Talk about weird.

Let's talk about service. Ever since I've been going to Puerto Vallarta (at the tender age of 11) I believe we've had the same waiter at a place we fondly call "Tizoc's" but whose actual "registered" name is "Café Tizoc". Keep in mind, there've been a few years when Tizoc's wasn't in business - i.e., another restaurant had come in and tried the real estate on for size - but the majority of all these years, this little café that could has been there, and there's always been Roberto.

He's got to be 75 years old if he's a day...bilingual, good people-person, and humor that won't quit. I finally had the pleasure of taking his "portrait" (of course I had to include his colleague that day/this year, whose name escapes me), which of course highlights the backdrop of 'his place'. Of course I had to document my favorite Mexican waiter, where else can you go that, year after year, your server remembers you and your family? I mean, c'mon, he remembers my GRANDMOTHER who went there way back in the '60s. It's priceless.

And, last but certainly not least...here's the update of the Satterfield family - this was taken at Sophia's 3rd birthday party in April. I missed it because Amy was unaware Clint and I woul be flying back from Puerto Vallarta (even tho' I told her the dates...let's be honest, she's pregnant so I absolve her of all forgetfulness). Let's just say I got her some good gifts in PV - including maracas! Those were Clint's idea, and a total hit :)

That's about it for now. *Yawn* Time to get some beauty sleep!

(PS: Feel free to insert joke here)