Last Monday, I floated the Comal River like a rookie. Maybe it was because it was The Kitten’s first time to float the river, and I was a little nervous, hoping she would love tubing as much as I do. Maybe it was a bit of showing off in front of my cousins on my dad’s side who all are younger than me. Maybe it was way too much cider. But anyway, I fried my legs for the first time in twenty years. And not just fried all over…burned in a candy-cane pattern. Yes, I have red and white diagonal stripes up and down the fronts of my legs. Lovely!

Still, my candy-cane legs can’t top the marks I received from skating the Pride Parade Saturday night. Before the parade even started, I hit a car. Poor car! It was just minding its own business, and I came along and tripped into it. It was too dark to see how bad my Catazonianess damaged it, but the bruise on my upper arm says there might have been a dent in the passenger door. The bruise is even bigger than the one when I fell in the clothes hamper, which you can actually see in the picture on my Blogger profile. Nice!

By the way, I’m waiting to see pictures from that night, so if you have any of the roller derby girls rolling down Westheimer, either on wheels or on the ground wrastling, put ‘em out there! And thanks, Rushin’ Cleavage, for such an enjoyable evening.

I didn’t think the week could get any better than once again getting the crap beat out of me by stationary objects, but then I went to a Roger Creager concert yesterday evening, right smack-dab in the middle of what I like to think of as my old ‘hood (Oak Forest), and I know it’s hard to believe that only about 75-100 people would brave the heat wave from hell to see him at such a great venue (a little league ballfield), but the few, the brave, the crazy were rewarded with a free beer from Roger himself. Awesome.

People who really know me know that I am the last person to complain or make excuses. So I really don’t want to go here, but I’m starting to think that going here might help me like it did before.

Somehow I currently weigh 200 lbs., and I have for the past three weeks. Every time I get on the damn scale, it says the same damn thing…200.6. WTF? How is that possible? I have never weighed the same on a Monday as I did on a Thursday…ever. So what is the deal?

I put on my pants one morning three weeks ago, and they were too tight. The week before the damn pants fit fine, but now suddenly, they don’t fit? WTF? I didn’t do anything different that past week…didn’t start eating a ton of food that’s bad for me and didn’t stop taking the stairs. How did I gain about ten pounds in one week?

So I start to think, it’s bad water weight…it will be gone next week…but three weeks later, it’s not gone! WTF? WTF? WTF? I immediately started doing more strenuous workouts in the morning, and you would think something would change, but no. This is just too weird.

In two weeks, I have to go in for my annual exam, and my doctor is going to raise holy hell over my weight. I’m a little bit stressed about that, but I’m not going to change my eating habits over it. I don’t eat badly…this is so not fair.

But I guess tomorrow night, I need to avoid drinking the leftover margaritas after I turn in the portion to be judged. I should win something just for exercising restraint.

OK, so my car’s not that old, and it was made in America…but I have been driving it for almost six years, and it does say Hyundai on it. Sometimes I feel a bit guilty about both of those things, and sometimes I commend myself for changing my habits and standing up for a different way of life.

See, I grew up thinking that cars should be replaced every couple of years…mainly because my dad drives like a bat out of hell, and maybe a little bit because his dad owned a (foreign) car dealership, and also because my parents COULD replace their cars when they got tired of them. I still don’t know how they did it on their salaries back then, but they did. When I started driving, I had that “gotta have a new car” mindset and a lot more funds. Just for fun, here’s my car history:

• 1981 Ford Mustang (handed down from my father…I’ve got some good stories about this one!)
• 1989 Nissan Maxima (totalled this one in a ditch…wheeee!)
• 1993 Isuzu P-up (cheapest new thing I could find…hate it when I unexpectedly destroy things!)
• 1995 Isuzu P-up (this one had s-weet rims and custom pink pin-striping…should have never gotten rid of it!)
• 1998 Isuzu Rodeo (the biggest piece of crap on the road…I’m surprised I didn’t die in this thing!)
• 2001 Nissan Frontier (upside down on the Rodeo…had to go cheap again, damn!)

and here we are now with the 2004 Hyundai Santa Fe! Sometimes I can’t believe I paid off a car, and I’m not sick of it yet. I hope this car lasts five more years! I love this car! I need this car, because we have a house payment that goes up every year due to a crooked appraisal district and a daughter in private school due to my concern for her soul and her safety.

Somewhere inside us all, I think there is a place that can ignore the ads, and the media, and our friends, and anything else that tells us spending our hard-earned money is a good thing. A good thing is being happy with what you’ve got. A good thing is being able to provide EXACTLY what your family needs…nothing more, nothing less. A good thing is living the simple life. So my car is not new and it’s not very pretty anymore…but it’s a good thing.