Thursday, April 25, 2013

In the Heat of the Moment

We were fast asleep in a motel somewhere between Charleston and Savannah when we were awakened by this frightening, loud blast of noise that didn't stop.    Even though our minds were fogged with sleep, we knew it was the fire alarm.

Here's where I'm supposed to say we rushed out of our room to safety outside.  However, that's not exactly how it happened.  It was more like everything we've ever known about fire safety got tangled up in the cobwebs of our sleepiness and we were unable to access it.  Mentally we went from being educated individuals to functioning like kindergarten dropouts.  

We all know that the first thing anyone is supposed to do in a fire is feel the door for heat.  That seems easy enough.  You'd think I'd at least get that part right.  And you'd be wrong. No, I whipped the door open, stuck my head out, looked down the hallway and didn't see flames or smell smoke.  

Next I put my shoes on, grabbed stray clothes, stuffed them in my suitcase, grabbed hanging clothes out of the closet, got toiletries, phone, computer, power cords, books, now my arms are pretty full.  As I was exiting the room, I dropped the dental floss.  I kid you not, I bent over and picked it up.  That's right - I potentially risked my life for a partially used roll of dental floss that retails new for ninety-seven cents.  Wow.  That was monster dumb.

I am embarrassed of my behavior.  It was totally the wrong way to act in a crisis.  And where was my husband while I was scooping things up?

He was busy getting dressed.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Not that Bad

We were out in the yard this weekend planting when I was bitten on the neck by a vampire bat - or maybe a just an obese mosquito with the appetite of a vampire bat ~ it could have been either.  The results are the same:  I have a giant red welt the size of a hickory nut on my neck. It itches and it's ugly.

Speaking of ugly, let's talk some more about my current haircut.  Ever since I wrote about my recent salon experience, I've been running into friends who look at me and say, "Your hair doesn't look that bad."  While I appreciate "not looking that bad," it really isn't what any girl hopes to hear when others comment upon her appearance.

Jer read that post too.  He came home, looked at my hair and said, "Did you really get a haircut?" to which I replied, "Yes."

"Oh.  I thought you just quit styling it."


The good news was that I go to a place with a customer appreciation program.  That is correct.  My ugly haircut was free.  At least it has that going for it.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

T.V. Wars, Chapter Thirteen

 It's been a long, hard struggle but we are about to determine, once and for all, the winner of The Zimmerman Game of Wiley Wit and Cunning -- Ultimate Television Edition.
We'd been living in opposing camps on the television issue since before the first Bush administration.  Then, in January 2012, Jerry toted our only set to the Goodwill. I was thrilled!  I thought he'd finally "seen the light."


Then my February birthday rolled around.

Ad Out.

I've been looking for the perfect spot to put that flat screen TV that Jerry got me ever since.
Today, I found it.
Ad In.

Game. Set. Match.

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

By Popular Demand

Let's review...

Tuesday I wrote a blog about the worst haircut in my life and what do my friends and family ALL DO?  They ask to see a picture!  I'm not talking about just one or two random people here, I mean my sisters, my neighbors, my closest friends; people that I care about and who I thought cared about me.  Have I spent my entire life surrounded by a bunch of sadists? 

...and am I so masochistic that I'm going to actually post a picture?  Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I am.  No surprises there.  Anything for a laugh.  People, this is a bad haircut.  It deserves to be laughed at.  No one understands that at a gut level better than do I. Okay, so here it is - the picture you've all been waiting for.  The feather on my left side should be on the back of some large, brownish bird not on anyone's head.

Yes, I am wearing a ski cap.  The original photo was in color but I had to change it to black-and-white so you wouldn't be distracted by my flushed cheeks.  It's 76 degrees in the house and I am wearing a winter hat that should, by rights, be in my Norwegian sister-in-law's closet not in mine.  I think I actually bought it for Jerry as a joke.  And now, the joke's on me!  Literally.

My humiliation is complete.  Satisfied, everyone?

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

The Goth Girl & Me

The tattooed Goth girl came at me with a pair of scissors.  She grabbed a fist full of my hair, then went for a razor and hacked at it. I felt tugging and could hear the sound of hair being ripped away from my head.  It was sickening, like a bird of prey attacking me. 

I kept unusually quiet - I didn't want to antagonize the girl holding the weapon.
"How many haircuts do you do in a day?" I finally ventured.

"Up to thirty-five." she responded.  "You have thick hair." 

("Had" I thought.)

"I put a lot of layers in it so it will lay nice."

When she was finished, she whipped off the black cape and was clearly proud of herself.  After I put my glasses on she looked at me again.  Then she put the cape back on and whacked at my hair some more.  Finally satisfied, she let me escape.  I thanked her (I did mention that she was holding a razor, right?) and as I got out of the chair, glanced at myself in her mirror.

Where I once had hair, I now have feathers.  Lots of them.