Where the boobs and butts go

Hey, you know what I have discovered? Working a few days, and then taking three or four days off, then working for a few more days, and then taking three or four days off? IS AWESOME.

My double Portland trips are over, and the second one was just as lovely as the first. This time I had the trusty BFF by my side the whole time which meant that, well, clothes were bought. Because that’s the effect that we have on each other.

Did I ever tell you about the time that she and I were in San Francisco, and we were in the unmentionables store, and she was trying to buy a slip or camisole or something, and the unmentionables saleslady referred to the bodice as “the part where the breasts go”? Wow, lady. Selling this stuff is your profession, and you couldn’t come up with “bodice” or “top” or “front” or “cups” or something like that? I am a mere amateur and I can think of what those might be called. Why don’t we just take it all the way down low and call them the boulder holders?

Anyway. Portland, once again, treated me right and stuffed me to the gills. I was rather lax in my photo taking this time around (too busy stuffing my face), but luckily, between the two of us, we took a few photos. First three hers, last two mine.

In other news, I joined a group of pals on Saturday to go tubing down Lake Wenatchee. Tubing, for those of you who don’t know, is when you sit in a big tire-like thing and float yourself down the river. Which sounds fun, and it totally is. Being a city girl myself, I didn’t know the first thing about tubing. I thought it was way, way more rapids-filled than it turned out to be. I sort of have a fear of fast river rapids. I know one person who fell out of a raft and got a spinal chord injury and became paraplegic from then on. I also knew another person who fell out of a raft and broke their neck and died. This bright and cheery post just got serious as a heart attack, I know, but I just had to tell you about why I have a (not so) irrational fear of fast moving river water. Because I don’t know that many people who have died untimely deaths or become wheelchair-users due to injury, and the fact that I have known two whole people in that category seems like a high statistic.

The result of this fear was that when the optional life jackets were handed out, I totally took one, and then felt like a doofus for the rest of the time because we were basically floating in a placid river at about 1 mile an hour. No one told me that tubing was going to basically be the same thing as putting floaties on your arms and going to the pool. SHEESH. Unfortunately, I have no photos of that either. You shall be spared the visual of my life-jacketed stupidness.

On the way to tubing, the car (me, Nordic Boy, Biogirl, and our friend Nancy) trip had a conversation lull, where all of us were lost in our own thoughts, for a good long few minutes. Out of this silence, Nordic Boy (also a novice tuber) turned to Biogirl and said the following: “So, let me get this. When you are tubing, you are sitting above water, on the circular tube.” Biogirl agrees. Then he says, in his super serious way: “What about butts? Is your butt dipped in the water, or is there a bottom on the tube?” Biogirl says back, with equal seriousness: “No, it’s really like a donut shaped tube. Your butt is hanging into the water the whole time.”

Something about that conversation made me laugh until I cried, and I think I might have drooled a little too. Nancy caught the giggle fit with me, but I don’t know if that was just because she was all the sudden sitting next to a drooling hysteric in the back of the car. Little did she know that I was a moment away from peeing myself as well. Liquids wanted to come out of me in a laughing way, for some reason. Even now, as I think about it again, it makes me laugh. First of all, that Nordic Boy had such an UBER SERIOUS need to clarify where his butt was going to be and whether it was going to be in water or not. Then Biogirl saying that one’s butt would be “hanging” in the water? It was like all of a sudden, I was an alien from another planet who had never heard of tubing, or tubes, or rivers, or anything, and all I could understand was that we were on our way to do some recreational activity where we were going to suspend ourselves above moving water, keeping our entire bodies dry, except we were going to stick our butts into giant donuts so that our asses would submerge during transport.

Seriously, is that not a weird recreational activity, when you really think about it?

The weekend was capped off by partying it up with R and A, two little cuties who turned 3 and 1 this month and had a ripper of a party to celebrate. R is team pie, and A is team cake, so the party offered BOTH. Which is the most genius thing ever, is it not?

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