I am again.
I blogged once about some part of life in which I turned the curve before the rest of American society, but I can’t remember what that was.Ã‚Â Hmmm, I really can’t.Ã‚Â Obviously a weighty, penetrating subject.
But today in the paper, I came across a tiny article in the Post-Gazette called Tap water:Ã‚Â c’est chic.Ã‚Â I tried to find a link to it, but couldn’t so you’ll just have to trust me…
The piece says restaurants in Berkeley, CA are touting their use of tap water versus fancy pants bottled varieties that, apparently, take a slice out of the ozone everytime they’re processed and bottled.
Don’t get me wrong, I drink bottled water.Ã‚Â When we’re in the car, at the zoo, you know, heading off into the suburban jungle, I’ll buy a bottle of water.Ã‚Â But if I had a dime for everytime a friend raises her eyebrows when I fill my glass of water straight from the tap, well, I’d be Queen of Oakmont at the very least.
People look at me as though I’m wandering through a measles ward without benefit of vaccination.Ã‚Â Or, heading into sunny neighborhoods without slathering the kids with exactly six quarter sized squirts of sunscreen per kid per hour of exposure.
So, look at me.Ã‚Â Yes!Ã‚Â I’m a freaking pioneer.Ã‚Â It’s good to be on top of things for once.Ã‚Â