Apparently in the US I’m a klutz with drinks.
Yesterday at lunch with Nathan and Casey in Olympia, a glass of ice water slipped out of my hand, tipped over, and poured itself across the restaurant table and onto my lap. I had to hang up my jeans in the sun all afternoon to dry the front.
Then, that same night at dinner (again, with Nathan and Casey), I did the exact same thing with a large glass of root beer. Nathan’s stepdaughter Hayden laughed giddily at my sticky predicament. Jess was suitably mortified.
Then today, on my way to the evening sessions at OSCON in Portland, I stepped off a curb and into a sewer grating, and in regaining my balance dumped half of the Dr. Pepper I had just bought from Subway down my arm.
For those keeping score at home, that’s three self-drenchings in 24 hours. Is there a name for this syndrome?
But with the pending release of their new album, Barenaked Ladies Are Me, they have slipped up a little. It seems they have produced so much new music for this album, that they are going to make different subsets available through different methods of distribution.