=SHOCKING=

Nearly 1 million home improvement books were recently recalled by Oxmoor House because of errors that could lead do-it-yourselfers to make risky mistakes while installing or repairing their electrical wiring. The errors in technical diagrams and wiring instructions could cause people to be shocked or create a fire hazard. Great. Not only am I sure to have this book, but I have probably read it multiple times, memorized it and can recite from it verbatim. I do not get along with electricity. It started when I was a teenager when my every interlude with a blow dryer or set of hot rollers resulted in our entire house going dark and my father yelling "PENNY...YOU BLEW THE @#$%^ FUSE AGAIN". Our house was full of booby traps...don't touch the refrigerator while standing too close to the oven...don't turn the bathroom light off if it hasn't been on for at least 15 minutes...don't, under any circumstances, use the outlet at the bottom of the stairs...the list was endless. When I got married and my husband and I moved into our first house, things weren't so very different. There is me, standing on a chair in the kitchen, below a temperamental light fixture we were changing out, looking apprehensively at my spouse, saying 'are you sure I won't get a shock?' and him, reassuring me when BZZZZZZ - I fly OFF the chair I was standing on and land on my ass not so much in the middle of the room, but sort of crumpled in the corner by the door. Oops. Wrong wire. Needless to say, I like to leave those sort of projects to the professionals, or at least, my spouse, who knows enough to avoid electrocution!

Old Person Alert

Kim from North Carolina writes "OK, I am now officially old....I ate an Activia Yogurt, PRUNE flavored....and liked it!" Now, Kim is close to my age and I have to say that I really appreciate her intelligence and humor in making this observation. Yes, our bodies are changing, and that's okay because we can fight that (tooth and nail, as the saying goes), and be applauded for our efforts. What I think isn't okay is the denial that we are or should be changing because of or in spite of our age... I'm glad to say that I seldom feel 'old', except when confronted by certain expressions of youth. I don't mean immaturity as exhibited by my 12 year old child (I mean, can one really ever get tired of fart jokes?), but the youthfulness of my (dare I say it...) peeps who are still all hip and up to date with every trend and seem to be the same as they ever were. That makes me feel old. And, while it is fun to remember, and even occasionally indulge in activities and past-times I once pursued on a regular basis (I am thinking specifically about clubbing, drinking and other possibly illegal activities here), to re-live those days, well, that's not really for me. Those days were some of the best of my life, but I refuse to accept that they were THE best I will ever have. My best is still to come. I know this as surely as I know that giving myself the chance to develop and explore new interests will be even more fun than re-living the old days. So, for my friends who might not allow themselves the joy of changing and discovering themselves anew, I say "okay, as long as it works for you". But, I need to warn them that I am now, in my advancing years, hopelessly UN-HIP, and that to me, 'Peeps' will forever be the bright yellow sugar covered marshmallow chicks we put in Easter baskets.

Success, at Last!

In an earlier post, I mentioned that I need to think up a snappy reply to the often asked question "So what do you do?" The thing is, I can think up plenty of witty, interesting and downright fascinating replies to that question, but I don't really like to outright lie. So, I have been diligently thinking about this (well, I thought about it at least twice), and have continued to come up cold, until now. What prompted me to solve this dilemma is that I once again have NOT gotten a job I wanted. This is really beginning to annoy me. I have to confess, I was feeling quite optimistic that so much time had passed without being rejected. There was a secret little part of me that was supremely confident that this job was mine and that the delay in notifying me was simply a glitch in the Federal hiring system. Hmmmph.

But, on the upside, since I still can't say "I work for blah blah doing whatsit", I have come up with this: The next time someone asks me what I do, I will say (hold on...this is really good) I am doing research for a book. After the questioner makes all the usual and appropriate expressions of admiration, they will invariably ask "What is your book about?" To which I shall reply "the impact middle aged women who are unemployed have on the economy" or some other horribly uninteresting topic I know lots about. This should cause the questioner to suddenly spot an old acquaintance across the room with whom they simply must go speak to, and they will happily flee before I can even begin to expand on the more interesting facets of my research. Now, while I am not ACTUALLY writing a book, I certainly could be. I mean, everyone knows someone who is some day, going to write that novel, or screenplay, or cookbook. I will simply join the ranks of all the other wannabe writers. And, it is not really lying, because technically, I am researching what impact I have on the economy when I talk to shopkeepers about their business, or request credit line increases or by buying stuff. I am, just as actors engage in "method acting", engaged in "method research".

So, now that I have my snappy response, I am really looking forward to trying it out at my next social occasion. I really feel like I have accomplished something here...

News... not so much

So, I am reading these little news stories…you know, the “feel good” stories the local newspapers publish, and I am thinking, no wonder the papers only allocate a tiny bit of space to this sort of thing. I thought it was because not that much good stuff is happening around the world. Oh, it’s happening alright, but no one really wants to hear about it, because it's... really boring. I mean, here are some recent headlines… "Singing Driver Works on His Delivery” (a truck driver sings opera while working), “Napoleon Finds Way Back to Ohio Library” (a late library book is finally returned), and "92 Year Old Takes Ride"(an old lady skydives for the first time, has a perfect landing and wasn't even scared - where's the interest here?). Of course, living in a smallish town brings its own fair share of bizarre news stories. For example, just recently a young man was arrested in Wal-Mart because he took a baseball bat into the electronics section and smashed the blazes out of 23 television sets. The police are still questioning him as to why he did this. I am speculating that this is the newest form of crime -soon to be known as "Boob Tube Frenzy" which highly paid psychiatrists will eventually determine is induced by watching way too many bad TV shows. It will be grouped with other crimes of this sort - "Primal Pruning" in which calm suburbanites viciously attack their Azalea bushes in a search for inner peace and "Counter Combat", when normally docile shoppers get annoyed at rising prices. Now, those will be some news stories worth reading about!

Small and Dirty

In case you didn't know, I live in the pretty deep south. Well, two days ago, it snowed here for the first time since in awhile. The last time I remember it snowing was in 1989. Then, my truck ran off the road and flipped on the roof and came to rest, upside down in a drainage ditch on the side of the road. I am not really a big fan of snow. But, I am a big fan of creativity and fun, and all over my neighborhood, kids and adults alike played in what little snow there was. Some made snowballs, some used the snow like a 'slip-n-slide', and others had bigger dreams and made snowmen.

The next day, all over town, there were these odd shaped, small, dirty looking snow people...There simply wasn't enough snow to make sculptures out of all snow, without scraping up bits of grass and sticks and leaves and just plain dirt. In some cases, the creations had flattened sides and backs, to conserve the precious building material. And, while there were snowmen wearing sunglasses, and some with palm fronds for arms, and others who had seashell eyes, all shared the same brownish, mottled appearance...

Home Improvement

So, home improvement is very much on my mind these days. I have turned my energies in that direction since this cold has all but stopped the fishing in the inshore waterways. I am also still broke from Christmas, plus I am getting really tired and bored of looking for work. My family is now praying really hard that I either find a job (like tomorrow), or that we miraculously miss the three weeks of winter we typically have this month, or that my credit card balances get sufficiently low to renew my interest in shopping. They will also try to tempt me with new hobbies, mention the upcoming New York Fashion Week and that they heard Tyra Banks will be interviewing Gandhi's great-granddaughter and I better just sit and watch so I don't miss it. They are quaking in terror because I am quite driven and merciless when it comes to home improvement projects. I will cause intense anguish to all around me until the project is finished...I am the Home Improvement Nazi Slave Driver. I have driven burly, hard-nosed contractors to tears...and watched them run screaming from my house...begging to never have to come back, throwing whatever money I have paid them back at me. The last time we had a contractor at the house, I was sent away to shop each day, allowed back only after the workers had left. Surprisingly, the project was finished on time. I don't know how they managed without me...

The Joint is a Jumpin'

A truck driver who lost control of a semi-trailer carrying missile parts in Bismarck, North Dakota was distracted by a "large insect" that flew in a window and landed on the driver's back, the military said in a report released Friday. I can easily imagine the physical comedy that ensued as the driver tried to get the thing off him/her, as well as the anguish that was rampant in the driver's mind...wondering just what the heck they were sharing their truck cab with. One day, on my way to a job interview, no less, I was driving and I felt a squishy sort of feeling on my lower leg. I looked down and saw a somewhat largish green tree frog hanging on to my calf. As I screamed, I tried to raise my leg high enough to shake it out of the window. Failing that, I tried stomping my left foot as hard as I could. As the shock waves reverberated (through my body and its'), the frog finally fell off in a sort of stupor. Unfortunately, it didn't stay unconscious very long, woke up and then jumped onto my right knee. Needing that leg to control the vehicle, I left it there (under extreme duress) until I got to the interview, narrowly avoiding driving into the ditch on the side of the road several times. Didn't get the job, and never did find the frog to get it out of the truck!