More AAAYYYYs

Not like “morays,” as in eels, but more “As,” as in answers…you know what? Nevermind. Here’s the Fonz:

I only have questions from one additional reader today, but seeing as how 1) these Q&A posts are so easy to write and 2) I apparently cannot get enough of talking about ME ME MEEEEEE!, here we go:

From sweetbird:

Q: “Why did you pick Sadie as a name? Am I a total asshat that missed out on an important post a year ago that totally answers that question and now it’s obvious how insensitive I am?”

A: No asshattery here! I don’t think I ever talked about the process of choosing Sadie’s name, mostly because I never revealed the name on this blog until after she was born, and then I was too busy talking about my boobs and crying about the circle of life to get around to it. We had actually talked about the name Sadie a year before I even got pregnant, and then for some reason it slid off our radar until around December of 2008. We were pretty hot ‘n’ heavy for the name Gemma, and I remember at one point thinking that Sadie had shown up on one of those “Top Ten Popular Name” lists (and I was totally preoccupied with NOT choosing an uber-popular name), but somewhere along the line we reconsidered. We had definitely settled on Sadie by the time Christmas rolled around, because we gave both of our parents a gift from “Sadie Rose.” There aren’t any other Sadies in the family, but Brad’s mom’s name is “Rosemary” (she goes by Rose).

She also prefers the toilet paper under (WRONG WRONG SO WRONG), but we are done talking about that.

Q: “Where did you get Brad and are there others like him there?”

A: I found Brad in a community theatre production of “The Sound of Music,” and all the other males in the cast were either under the age of 15 or gay, so unfortunately I don’t think you’ll find any others in that particular venue.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you should probably steer clear of community theatres altogether when it comes to meeting someone you want to have sex with.*

Q: “Mayo or Miracle Whip?”

A: I was raised on Miracle Whip, and I was way-too-many years old before I realized there was a difference between the Whip and actual mayo. However, along with the discovery that real mayo kicks Miracle Whip’s ass came the discovery that real mayo will put you in the fucking hospital with a quintuple bypass, like, for real. Therefore, I buy the light version of Miracle Whip because 1) I don’t know of a decent light mayo (suggestions?), and 2) Brad likes it and he’s pretty much the only one who uses it anyway.

I prefer spicy mustard, especially those that sound like characters from “Clue.”

Q: “Did you bribe the refs in the Superbowl of ’06 to completely fucking ROB my Seahawks?”

Q: “Have you ever gotten in a fistfight or been arrested?”

A: Arrested, no. Fistfight? Why, yes! Twice! OK, so they weren’t full-on fistfights, but they both took place in bars, and punches were thrown in one of them (although none landed…thank goodness). You can read about the first one here, and the second one took place just a few years after that, in a bar down the street. I was visiting my parents in Charleston, WV (we were living in NYC at the time), and it just so happened that my friend Jen was in town. We decided to go out dancing downtown for old times’ sake, and hopped around to a few places before ending up in the infamous (and now defunct, I think?) bar called The Blue Parrot (I KNOW), which is – coincidentally – the very same establishment to which Brad and I ended up dragging our entire drunken wedding party after the reception had ended (I KNOW, CLASSY, I KNOW). It was crowded, and we unfortunately ended up dancing next to Entitled Drunk Girl, who seemed really offended that we deigned to breathe the air adjacent to her girl-drink-drunk ass. She chose to show her disapproval by going out of her way to continually elbow my friend Jen, who took the high road and ignored her. The elbowing escalated, though, and Jen finally caved and nudged her back, and this was all that Otis-fucking-Lemon needed to begin the fight she was so aggressively picking. My friend Jen was having none of it, and Sober Friend kept trying to hold Entitled Drunk Girl back, and that’s when something in me decided that now would be a good time to put a decisive end to the fucking Redneck Comedy Tour. So I stepped forward and shoved Drunky McGee with all of my strength, and she flew backwards in a very impressive manner, ending up stunned and flat on her ass. I didn’t have very much time to enjoy all of this, however, because the next thing I remember was having my elbows yanked behind me and quite literally being dragged out of the club. My first bouncing! And all for a good cause: defending my friend’s honor in a club that sold $1 Coronas.

Then, as I recall, we went and got some fuckin’ FRAAAHNCH TOAST.

More non-Q&A-related stuff to follow this week, I promise. I have tales of going to see Brad’s awesome show (and getting my babyless drunk on for the SECOND week in a row!), and my first experience going to something called a “mom swap.”

And no, it didn’t involve a bowl full of keys, as I had sort of hoped.

*I feel bad about ragging on these people, especially because  I have very fond memories of performing in community theatre, but LOOK AT THEIR FACES, Internet. I have never in my life seen four more miserable people or one more nonplussed giant man-eating plant.