You may have been, but apparently they weren't

(See post from June 9)

Why did we have to be in the Group of Death?

Are you ready?

Southern, Southwestern, and Portions of the Eastern United States Living

Delaware is not a part of the South. It just isn’t. Yes, it's next to Maryland. It's also next to New Jersey. Ask anyone who’s actually from the South, and they’ll tell you that they would not consider Delaware as being a part of the South.

With some clever reasoning, a state such as Texas could just get in by a stretch, and that’s only because it’s a) immediately adjacent to the South, b) actually in the southern half of the United States, geographically speaking, and c) was settled by many Southerners, who brought their culture and ways of life with them (although there are some Southerners who would tell you that no way is Texas a part of the South). And if you want to use the Civil War definition, Texas was a part of the Confederacy. Delaware, however…no.

So why does information about Delaware keep showing up in Southern Living magazine?

Thirteen minutes 'til brownies. Hee hee.

Deals Returns Today

Yea!

Sleeeepyyyyy. L.e.a.n.i.n.g.s.i.d.e.w.a.y.s

My head is experiencing a gravitational pull towards the counter.

For Amstaff Mom: A Clue-like Moment

Deals and I were at her grandparents’ old house (“old” as in both “former” and “been around since the 1920s”). No one has lived there for about a year, and there’s no electricity. That was okay, though, because we had plenty of sunlight from the windows for what we were doing, which was cleaning out some of the closets. There was a problem, however, when we decided to tackle one of the upstairs closets. It was deep, of the walk-in variety. There was no window or skylight to illuminate the back end, and we needed to go to the back to see what was there.

“I know,” I said, and pulled out my keychain light. I turned it on, and the beam emitting from it wasn’t nearly as bright as I had thought it would be. Not good. Then Deals got all clever.

“You go first,” she said, nudging me forward in to the closet. “I’ll be right behind you.”

‘Now where have I heard that before?’ I thought. ‘Oh, right.’ And I immediately thought of Clue. And Amstaff Mom. And I didn’t want to go in to the closet.

Incident Report -- Trip to New York, 4/19 - 4/24/06

1. Spilled rotel on Hils' kitchen countertop and in her pantry

2. Kicked the back of my mom's feet

3. Kicked the back of my mom's co-worker's feet

4. Kicked the back of JLR's feet

5. Kicked the back of Hils' feet

6. Ran in to and ricocheted off of JLR on several occasions.

7. Fainted.

Incident report, 4/17/06 - 4/18/06

1. Foot bitten by unknown insect. Foot swollen for two days.
2. Swarming of something in my bedroom.
3. Got stuck in elevator at work. GOT STUCK IN ELEVATOR AT WORK.
4. More swarming of some type of insect in my bedroom.

I would like to add that, contrary to what Deals (who wasn't there) would have you believe, I did not keep saying "I have to pee" over and over again whilst stuck in the elevator. I simply voiced a concern that, due to the amount of beverage I had consumed that morning, I would probably need to use the facilities if we were stuck in the elevator for long enough.

Get Down

My sister's laptop is missing the down arrow key. My sister's laptop--which I used to prefer using to my old hand-me-down desktop computer--now has a major typing defect. There I am, typing a web address in to the browser, and below the address line thing (whatever it's called), pops up the address of the website I would like to visit. "Yea!" I think. "I don't have to type the whole address--oh, no, wait. Yes I do."


Sure, I could use the shortcut, if I could just press the down key. There's the shortcut, taunting me, mocking me. Inaccessible.

Bother.

Unfortunately, JLR doesn't seem overly concerned about it.

Incident report, 4-14-06

1. Kicked cart at grocery store.
2. Kicked cart again at grocery store.
3. Kicked table at optometrist's office. [Stupid...big...feet.]
4. Banged knee on table at optometrist's office.
5. Banged elbow on something. I don't remember what.

Sigh.

Um...Incident Report, 3-30-2006

So Deals and I went on a bike ride tonight around the lake. It was fun. Except for when I ran in to the wall...but even that was funny.

It started with Deals having to lower the seat for me on the bike I was borrowing from her sister. Yes, her sister is shorter than me, and I still needed the seat lowered. Y'all, my feet could not touch the ground when I was on the seat. It needed to be lowered. My feet are my secondary bicycle braking system, and they're my primary bicycle braking system when I panic...which is often.

So we're going along fine except for those few times when I wobbled dangerously while attempting to brush hair off my face, or stand and bike at the same time, or go up a steep hill. Didn't fall though, which is what I was really afraid it would happen. After all, it's been about 10 to 15 years since I've ridden a bike. You know what they say about riding a bike? Not true. Oh, sure, you can still manage the balancing part, but not very well. It's like you can always remember how to ride, but if it's been too long between rides, every time you try it again, it's like when you just learned to ride.

Anyhow, we go over a bridge. It's neat. Picturesque. I can see up ahead that there's a turn. One can go left, right, or straight on in to the lake. Or rather, one would go in to the lake, except that there's a wall there. It's sort of a wall/gate mixture. I can't tell which way Deals is going to turn because Deals doesn't signal, not that I can blame her for that. At one point during the ride, I lifted my left arm off the handle bars to signal a turn and did that previously-mentioned dangerous wobbling and decided I wasn't going to risk signaling anymore. The people behind me could just take a wild guess. Which is what I was doing with Deals. 'Will she go left? Will she go right? Ah, she's going right. It's kind of a steep right. Hmm. If I turn at the speed I'm going, I will definitely fall over. Maybe I can slow down enough to come to a complete stop while missing the turn, then turn, and--nope, nope, I'm going to run in to the wall. Yep, I ran in to the wall.'

I am happy to say that the bike took most of the impact of the crash. I had a couple of scrapes on my leg, and that's it. Of course, the chain came off the bike. Deals informs me that, at this point, we are at the farthest point of the ride. Great. So she calls the Boy Toy to come pick us up while I grab a stick and try to get the chain to go back on. Yes, a stick. I don't know anything about bikes--not even how to shift the gears--and my hands were getting all kinds of greasy from the little bit I did handle the chain. The Boy Toy was at the pet food store, but he said he'd come get us. I was bummed because I really wanted to finish the ride. Then Deals merely touches the chain and it goes back on. So I felt kind of silly, yet happy at the same time, because we were able to finish the ride.

At one point the wind was blowing so hard that I. thought. I. was. not. going. to. be. able. to. make. it. I thought of that line from The Lady Eve, "They would've had to bury me at sea." Only "at lake," instead of at sea.

We finally get almost to the end when I see a rather alarming sign that reads:
HIDDEN AND STEEP CURVE AHEAD. REDUCE SPEED.

Um. Y'all know I have a problem with steep curves. I was a tad bit nervous. However, if you were looking for another incident here, you're going to be disappointed because there wasn't one. Well, except for when the Boy Toy was waiting for us at the end, and his dog wrapped its leash around Deals' legs, and she fell over. And then there wasn't much room in his vehicle after we put the bikes in it, so Deals and I had to share the front seat. With our bike helmets on, in case our heads knocked together.

Incident Report, 3-28-2006

Incident report: a compilation of recent events

1. Banged hand on car door frame

2. Fell in to car when car door swung in unexpectedly as I tried to exit the vehicle

3. Stubbed toe on portable heater

4. Knocked brush attachment off of vacuum

5. Accidentally unplugged vacuum while still using said vacuum

6. Forgot to turn off vacuum before plugging it back in

At least at this point, I’d rather deal with my regular incidents than face the ones our intern has been dealing with. In the past two weeks, she has fractured her ankle, fractured her sternum, and had a window fall on her nose. Don’t ask.

My. Hair. Is. Attacking. Me.

That's a Mistake I Should Have Learned to Avoid By Now

With lunch today I drank a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, and a cup of water. This means, basically, that I will get no work done this afternoon because I will spend all of my time in the bathroom.

The Magic Eraser

Do y'all remember last August when I posted about my dadgum bathtub, and how it always looks like a thousand different dirty feet have stood in it? I scrubbed, and I scrubbed, and I never could get it to look clean. This was a bit disconcerting, as it was that way when I moved in to my apartment, so I don't know whose feet made those stains.

Well, this weekend, I tried using the Magic Eraser on it, and you know what? It worked! I'm not saying the tub's now a perfect white, but it is much, much better. Thanks, Mr. Clean!

For Amstaff Mom

Half-eaten food: breakfast at Denny's with Dad. On the plate you will see: sausage (ate the bacon), remnants of Belgian waffle, remnants of pancakes, and remnants of hash browns (actually on plate to the side). Also a few remaining bites of egg (to the left of the sausage).

A Conversation Overheard This Weekend

Deals. and I were staying at a hotel in Austin because we were due to speak at a conference the next day (and that's another story). Her aunt and uncle dropped us off. Before I go any further with this story, I should tell you that D. has Snoopy as the wallpaper on her cell phone. In a minute, you'll see why I'm telling you this.

To continue, we went out to dinner with a friend of her Aunt A. and Uncle B. I was wearing jeans and a polo-type shirt. Not dressed up. I thought we were going to meet FODAU (Friend of Dealey's Aunt & Uncle) at the restaurant, but, no, we're picking her up, and I end up sitting next to her, which means that the shy person (me) is going to have to make polite conversation with a stranger. I find myself praying that it's going to be a short drive. About half a block from the restaurant, Aunt A. or Uncle B.--I forget which--asks D. if she's ever been to this restaurant before. She says that she hasn't, and FODAU says, "It's a private club."

My immediate reaction is the very uncouth, "Crap! I'm not dressed for a private club!" This was said in my head, by the way, and not aloud. In the words of Television Without Pity, Un!Comfortable!

Later, Aunt A. and Uncle B. drop us off at our hotel. We check in to our room and begin the getting-ready-for-bed process when D. realizes she's left her cell phone with her family. She finally manages to call Aunt A. on her cell phone and tells hers that if she needs to reach us, she can call my cell phone. Since Aunt A. isn't able, at the moment, to write down my cell phone number, Deals tell her that she can use her (Deals') phone, as my cell phone number is programmed in to said phone.

"Just press four-six-Send," she says. And that's when the fun starts.

"Four-six-send...send...it's the little green button....the green button...okay, let's start over. Close the phone and open it again...Do you see Snoopy? Okay, now press four-six-send...send...Go back to Snoopy...Go back to Snoopy...It's four-six-send...Oh, I know. Here, go back to Snoopy...Now, press four and hold down the six...just hold down the six....Go back to Snoopy...Now, press four and hold down the six...No, no, don't turn around! Don't come back! Just press four-six...Okay." She breaks off and turns to me. "[RR], what's your cell phone number?"

U.S. Olympic Giant Washer Count, 2/20/06

Gold Giant Washers: 7
Silver Giant Washers: 5
Bronze Giant Washers: 3

Total: 15

Absolute Power Quote of the Week, 2/19/06

"Martin, you made this bed. Prepare to eat it."

Dadgummit

JLR got that dadgum Hollaback Girl song stuck in my head the other day. We both realize that the song is not one to be recorded in the annals of Great Songwriting, and neither of us actually like the song, but it nonetheless gets stuck in our heads from time to time...usually because one of us inflicts it upon the other.

The reason for this post is to point out (to those of you who haven't already seen it) Greg Stacy's hi-larious explanation of the lyrics for "Hollaback Girl." Thanks to Mr. Stacy, instead of cringing, I now smile whenever I hear the song.