Wednesday, March 28, 2012

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!!

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

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.

Saturday, March 17, 2012

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.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

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.




Friday, March 9, 2012

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.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

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?')