On Friday, I ran a buttload of errands. Buttload, if you are unfamiliar with this highly scientific term, is super-science speak for “a lot, like, whoa, a lot.” Example: “I may need a blood transfusion: I was in Forks this weekend and was swarmed by a buttload of mosquitos. Nary a glittery vampire in sight.” OR “The seam on Jennifer Lopez’s pants gave way under the pressure of the buttload.”

My first stop was Clearvue Vision Center for my annual vision exam. I have really, really been needing new glasses. My current pair is fractured at the temple due to being in constant contact with my enormous head, and they’ve been getting more and more loose, like a whore coming into her own. I’ve been having to push them up my nose constantly, and occasionally, when I look down, they plain fall off my face. I have been having nightmares about them falling off into the toilet, that is how badly I need new frames. I put getting frames off for a year, because I hated the selection at Pearl Optical and also the saleswoman was a pushy bitch, and I can’t reward that kind of jackassery with my money. Clearvue was an alltogether different sort of experience. Dr. Gelt was friendly and genuine, and even better, she told me I was now a candidate for lasik, given that my current prescription is four years old and my eyes had not changed much since then, so one of these days (not particularly soon), I will be able to see.

I don’t know if I’ve actually ever seen clearly on my own before in my life–I got my first pair of glasses in the second grade. My mom was volunteering at the school when they checked everyone’s eyes, and I remember being herded into her line and subsequently being so angry with her because it seemed to me that it was her fault that I couldn’t read the letters, and her getting angry with me because it seemed to her that my refusal to read them was an act of willful stupidity. I ended up with a pair of pink and purple glasses with a rhinestone butterfly on the corner of the frame. The principal loved them and always treated me like her favorite kid. It was on that day that I became a nerd.

Anyhow, the staff at Clearvue was very low-pressure, in fact, they didn’t even bring up a lens/frame purchase and left me to my own devices. I found a pair of frames that are like magic on my face, and I should have them in a few weeks, so I can finally kiss my toilet-dropping nightmares goodbye!

After the optometrist, I drove to SaltWorks in Woodinville to pick up some coarse Hawaiian salt for the Kalua pig I was making for Mardi’s 4th of July Luau. SaltWorks is way serious about salt. Apparently, it pays well, too.

Bill the Butcher was my next stop–I may not always be particularly choosy about what I put into my mouth, but when I’m feeding my friends, I want to feed them right, and Bill does it right. Their shop only works with small local farmers and ranchers who treat the animals humanely, and they are raised without the use of growth hormones, antibiotics, steroids, or genetically altered feed. While I, personally, don’t take issue with the idea of genetic modification of food*, particularly if it means greater yield that will prevent people worldwide from starvation, I do like the idea of supporting a business which believes in raising animals sustainably.

After I brought the meat home, I went to 99 Bottles to pick up some beer for the party–I particularly like 99 Bottles because I can try a variety, and if I end up hating something, I’m not stuck with another five to take up space in my fridge.

I was also on a mad quest for AquaNet for Tobie’s potato gun. As it’s no longer 1980, AquaNet is something of a rarity. The clerk at Sally Beauty looked appalled when I inquired about its existence, as if I’d just slapped her across the face, spit on her child, fed crack to her dog, and had a dong hanging out of my pants. Luckily for all of us, at Rite Aid, the 80s will never die.

*Monsanto and what they’re doing to the food industry, on the other hand…