Printers and Me

Due to some quirks of fate, we have 3 printers. Most normal people get along fine for years with one, but we have 3. It wouldn't be so bad except they have resided in the living room for several years, this phalanx of printers. My favorite one is the oldest one and it only prints. It's pretty archaic, and very slow, but it's faithful and dependable. The second one makes copies, and scans also, and the third one, well who knows. The first one almost always works for me, the second one is sporadic and the third one never works.

So this morning I happened to mention that I thought I would go shopping for a special unit that would hold all the printers on separate shelves, in another room. They sort of detract from the ambiance in here. Bionic Man was astounded. Apparently he had no idea I wanted them out of the living room. Thus followed some stomping around and muttering as he rearranged things. My favorite one is now disconnected and gone. I'm being punished. I will never be able to print again. I have been assured that printer #3 will work for me. But I think electronic things sense doubt.

Facebook frustrations, etc

There comes a time in the life of a person, such as myself, when you can no longer remain silent on some things. A couple things have been rolling around in my head so here goes. First, I believe I have communicated some of my displeasure with Facebook as an entity. I figured I could maintain my account and check it annually, and not miss too much, except perhaps, who is eating muffins for breakfast and whose toddler burped this morning. So, imagine my shock and dismay when I went to log in for my annual scan, and was told that my password no longer was valid. Believe me, I was dumbfounded. This is like adding insult to injury. I already consider it a supreme waste of time and effort and they have disabled my password?!?!  Apparently I missed the memo on how they were redoing things and I had to change things. rrrrrrrrrrrrr  This did not endear me further. But I now have a new password. I just hope I can remember it and they don't pull the rug out again before next October.

And now I can't remember the second thing. I was called away on a wooly worm emergency. Stevie was escaping soon if I didn't find new net to cover the opening in the cheese balls jar. And we had to go buy cheese balls to have a container suitable for Stevie's abode. Whatever will I do with a gallon and a half of cheese balls?

Maybe the other topic will spring to mind later.

Flame Throwers

I know it's been a while since my last post. I mean well, and I'm hoping some of you have been getting my mental blogs. But that's another subject. And I have no idea what possesses me today. I'm supposed to be packing a suitcase and getting ready to leave and here I am.

But this week was the week that Bionic Man bought his flame thrower. I had no idea an average citizen could just go out and buy one of those. And this was after he attempted to make one himself. ?! I guess he decided that making it himself was going to be more trouble than buying one. While he was at it I asked him to make me a rocket launcher. As long as we're building up our arsenal, why not? And all those ants won't know what hit them. Of course, it may be overkill, but sometimes you do what you have to do. It brings to mind the story of 'Henry's Awful Mistake', which is a story about a duck who destroys his entire house as he is trying to kill an ant, one ant! Unfortunately, the very same ant shows up in his new house. And this just points up how very intelligent ants are, and that I am not the only one to think this. I must never let my guard down!

But back to the flame thrower. Bionic Man is using it to kill weeds. Sure beats pulling them. Did you know you could just walk into Menards and buy one, no license, no certification of mental wellness, nothing?

Schlumpf and such

I was minding my own business today when Bionic man appeared in his bike gear. He was all dejected because his Schlumpf gears were broken. Seriously? There is really something out there with that name? To me that sounds like a sound you make when you sit down in a bean bag chair. Then I started thinking about other interesting product names. Smuckers always puzzled me. That should be the name of something you hit together in a game small children play. It does not make me think of something yummy to eat. Of course there are those who capitalize on their names, like Flatt Tire. But Schlumpf?! Really?

Circus insects

Insects and I do not dwell together harmoniously. I seem to be the only person in the world who gets ants in their hummingbird feeder. I have pondered this issue. They have to first leap across from the post to the feeder, which is hanging on a rope. Then they have to s-q-u-e-e-z-e through the teensy hole that the birds use to access the nectar. And then they have to crawl up a minute little tube to reach the nectar, where they drown and end up floating. These are not the tiny grease ants. These are the half inch long black ones. So, they must train at a camp for circus ants. They are taught to do acrobatics, and how to be contortionists.

But that being said, I apparently have attracted some circus spiders as well. I was washing my face in the bathroom one night when suddenly, (Drum roll here), a spider came sailing out of the air on a thread. I would have said he was rappelling but I think you do that against a wall. He dipped and wove around, all the while performing hair raising stunts, and then, as quickly as he appeared, he rose back into the air and crawled away on the ceiling. I was stunned. What's next? Clown grasshoppers?

Oil Life and mine

Good news, everyone. Bionic Man made the huge decision to get my oil changed. The fact that we were about to embark on an 800 mile roadtrip might have influenced him. The oil life had diminished to 1%. He was so excited.

And now I can relax.

Throw off the Mayonnaise Tyranny

I've been married for 41 years to someone I don't even know. Tonight we were driving along with my mother and discovered that he doesn't like mayonnaise!! He's been PRETENDING to like it all these years, even when I refuse to eat it, he pretends. And then he acts all self righteous when I say I don't like it. What is up with that?! And then, wonder of wonders, my Mother says she doesn't really like it that much either!! So it made me wonder, does anyone in the world really like it at all? Am I just the only one bold enough to admit it? It is the chic thing to eat on everything and everyone else is afraid to admit it? Is it like the Emperor's new clothes? I say let's throw off the tyranny of mayonnaise!! Let's substitute whipped cream.

Then there's the issue of potato salad. I feel like the only one in the state of Iowa who doesn't eat potato salad. There are several issues involved. First, there's just something wrong about eating a cold cooked potato. But raw onions give me the heebie jeebies, and mustard should be banned. And then you slop mayonnaise on top of everything. I suppose the theory is no one will notice the potatoes are cold, the onions are raw, and there's mustard in it if you put enough mayonnaise on it. They will be so grossed out by the mayonnaise, they won't notice the rest. But here's the weird part, neither my mother or my husband like potato salad very much either. They've been pretending!!

I say let's throw off the mayonnaise tyranny!! NOW!!

Pay Back

I am sure this is payback for the brow plucking. My instrument panel says CHANGE OIL SOON. Bionic Man insists that I have 4% of my 'oil value' left, whatever that means. He says he wants to wait until the bitter end, which may be truer than you think, before he changes the oil. He wants to see how many miles I can get. What he doesn't understand is the level of anxiety I have as I'm driving along on the freeway and these capital letters are staring at me. I try to not stare at them, and think about how I'm going to burn up the engine and the car will roll over and I'll perish in the ditch somewhere, and no one will find me for hours. I know this is something an engineer needs to do as some kind of benchmark. And people wonder how I developed ulcers. But I really think getting down to 4% should be good enough.

The eyebrow incident

We had another eyebrow incident the other day. There were a couple of recalcitrant brow hairs. One was poking him in the eye. How does this NOT bother him? He agreed to a thinning of the herd, so to speak. He said he would be calm. We had a 4 hair-ectomy. Bionic Man was near tears. He said it was torture. This led my imagination to prisoner of war movies. . .

The prisoner is strapped to a metal table under relentless bright lights. The enemy soldier is wielding a pair of tweezers. He says, "You vill talk. Ve need de names of all your conspirators. You vill tell me or I vill pluck your brows." The prisoner screams in agony, "No, no, I'll tell you anything. Just no more plucking." Maniacal laugh here. Great stuff.

The Hazards of Too Much Exercise

We were gone 17 days, and all time high for us. Almost everyday I heard Bionic Man bemoaning the fact that he couldn't get his exercise routine in and how out of shape he was getting and how his legs were sore from lack of exercise. I hated to gloat, but I had none of those problems because I rarely exercise. Tomorrow after he weighs himself I know he will have gained weight too. I probably won't have that issue either. So you see, there are positives to not exercising much. I know, I know, I must redeem myself and I shouldn't be proud of that. I'll work on it. I'm just trying to make lemonade from lemons.

Decoy Cards and Belly Buttons

I have figured it out! Whenever we stay at a hotel, my key card does not work. It doesn't matter whether we're at the Hyatt in New York City, or the Super 8 in London, Kentucky, Bionic Man has a card that works, and mine doesn't. Tonight I figured it out. He always uses a card and says, "See, it works fine. You take this one." Obviously, he has used it up before he gives it to me. I thought perhaps my magnetic personality was ruining the strip on the card, or mine was the decoy card, You know, like the decoy bag on the airport conveyor belt that keeps all the passengers hopeful. But, no, mine is simply used up.

Which brings me to subject #2, inexplicable teen girls. As we entered the elevator to go up to the third floor, 2 sweet young things, got off the elevator and apologized as they exited. They were wearing swimsuits, giggling, texting, and generally acting teen-like. We puzzled at what, exactly they were apologizing for. But we observed them later in the parking lot, in the lobby, all over, doing the same things, in the same attire. So, were they apologizing for their attire, their rudeness, or their general demeanor? Who can guess? I believe they were a part of a birthday party that was leaving about the time we returned from dinner. Everyone was wearing skinny, tight tops, and they were all about 30 pounds heavier than they should have been in those shirts. We wondered if it was a club for chubby teens, or a belly button organization of some kind.

Southern Speak

I am visiting in the South for 2 weeks. It's another country here, in case you have never been before. I feel like a foreigner. I am sure I stick out like a roll of fat under a belly shirt, by everything I do and say, but I suddenly realized this week that I have been pronouncing Greenville in a northern way. I must correct myself. We in the north would say Green-ville, long 'e', short 'i'. They say Green-vull, long 'e', short 'u', and sort of swallow the second syllable. I'm practicing. I doubt I'll ever fit in. (Hand to forehead here--'Oh, Rhett, whatever will I do?')

Pinky and the Brain

Does anyone remember Animaniacs and those characters, Pinky and the Brain? As we were traveling along today from Ohio to South Carolina, using a GPS, I thought of Pinky and the Brain. (As a little aside here, I remember when my daughter was in 5th grade the teacher gave them all pencils with their names on them for Christmas, and everyone thought it ever so humorous that the boy in the class named 'Brian', got pencils that said 'Brain' on them. But I digress.) We were both getting quite annoyed with the lady inside the box. She does not even allow you to stop for food or gas without getting verklempt and becoming very agitated. You start trying to do whatever she says just to keep her happy. So I decided that it would make a great story for Pinky and the Brain, who, if you remember, were always hatching plots to take over the world. In this episode they would take over everyone's GPS and direct people to obey them and go the same place. No one would be allowed to eat or go to the bathroom until they complied.

Best and Worst

A friend of mine told me this morning that her city ranks among the most depressed cities in the US. So she was wondering exactly how they arrived at this conclusion, and what data they used. And I wanted to know if it was depressed emotionally, or economically. So I asked her to take a walk outside and see if there were unusually large numbers of people who were walking around with shoulders slumped, looking dejected. Or is it rather based on a higher than average per capita sales of valium. Also, if the area was depressed economically, I suppose that would cause people to be depressed emotionally also. So then I wanted to know how, exactly, she was feeling and if she had frequent thoughts of suicide. If everyone around you was bummed out, I think you might get that way too. It might tend to be contagious. I think sje should move.

Have you ever considered where they arrive at those other lists they make of the greatest cities to live in, or the most dangerous cities? Do you self nominate for the good titles? and do rivals of your city nominate you for the bad ones? Who does this? Another city we visit is supposed to be the best biking city. This clearly is not anywhere near the case, as there are no bicycle lanes on streets and everyone pretty much drives like a maniac. You would be a fool to ride a bike there. Who gave them that title? Must have been someone who doesn't ride a bike except the stationary kind, in a gym. Does that count?

It's way too early on a Saturday to be thinking about such things.

Hair and Turkeys

It's almost too much, but I noticed the other day that my big toes are growing hair. It's just the big toes, thank goodness. But I'm at a loss as to what I should do about it. I mean, will it keep getting longer and longer? I never heard of hirsute toes. When sandal season comes, whatever will I do? I'm already concocting a plan. I think I might try braiding and beading. I am open for suggestions.

I know, in light of this new development, everything else pales, but today we had turkeys at the feeders today. They are rude, and loud, and pushy, and we do not like them. They are actually worse than the squirrels. All I know is that Bionic Man raced upstairs and out onto the deck in his underwear this morning to chase them off the deck.

Chaos in the Universe

Yes, there is chaos. I filled the squirrel feeder this afternoon. Having a squirrel feeder is my way of compromising with the little blighters. Bionic Man says I am putting them all on welfare, AFDS, as it were, and I should stop. But if I provide corn and peanuts to them, they generally leave the 'bird' feeders alone. I guess there is the toe-hanger who cannot be deterred. But this afternoon, things got out of hand. I really think I saw one of the grays chase a brown one off the edge of the deck. I thought for a moment that he had just run over the edge and was hanging there waiting to come back when the bully squirrel retreated, but I watched for quite a while, and he never did come back. I don't want to go downstairs and look for a small squirrel body, smashed on the rocks. It's almost too much.

Then there was the flight we were on 2 weeks ago. The person giving us instructions before we took off, was speaking with a thick dialect of some sort, and was barely intelligible. I am pretty sure he said we should put our 'Hairy' items in the overhead compartments. I was also pretty sure Bionic Man would not fit in the overhead compartment. It turns out they let him ride in his assigned seat. This was good news.

Bath Poufs

Just how many times do you think you should be able to use a bath pouf, or whatever it is you call them, before they self destruct? It seems like the webbing is nearly indestructible. I happened to find a bargain this week. They were 2 for a dollar at Target. WOW!!! I needed a new one, so why not? The first one lasted for 2 baths before it came undone. Technically, I suppose, it didn't wear out, but have you ever tried to use one after it comes undone? Of course, Bionic Man noted that I had spent money on 2 of them earlier in the week, so when I threw another one in the cart yesterday, he was sure we would be in the poorhouse soon. This one was a more lavish one. It cost $1.49. I still have one more of the $.50 ones. I'm saving it for back up.