I don't like fingerprints on my Ipod touch. Randall suggested a plastic cover, but I don't like the feel of that on my fingers. I'm dealing with the fingerprints.
The library table has been shrunk back to size and returned to the bay window. It's been replaced by a round, white table from Ikea.
There's that Sidekicks commercial with the salt shaker... but for the longest time, I knew neither that it was a salt shaker, nor why it was so sad. The "S" on the front of it made me think of Skittles. Then I thought it had something to do with the Sidekicks. When I finally realized that the "S" was for "Salt" the commercial almost made sense... except that the salt shaker should be hanging around. If they've taken the salt out of the Sidekicks, the salt shaker might be needed- more than it was before...
Still on commercials... I love that people are so stupid that they have to put a "Dramatization: do not attempt" disclaimer on the deodorant-and-the-little-black-dress commercial. You know the one. Where the woman jumps headfirst out her window to dive into her dress so that she doesn't get any deodorant markings on it. Where she lands headfirst in the shrubberies, then stands up, shakes herself off, catches her purse and goes merrily on her way. "Do not attempt" indeed...
I absolutely never buy Charmin toilet paper. Mostly because of the paper-on-the-bear-butt commercials.
I avoid watching or listening to the news. Haiti is just too depressing. I pray, as I pray for the Congo and others in crisis, but I can't watch the pictures. The visual images are paralyzing and too heartbreaking. Not an ostrich, exactly; just filtering.
I'm ready for winter to be done. The spring-like weather isn't helping, especially when I know that there are a few more months of potential winter temperatures to come.
When I sleep in and don't eat breakfast until lunchtime I am a disaster waiting to happen. I tried that on Saturday and ended up lighting myself on fire. (The pilot light on the stove was out, and the long match that I used to relight it broke in half right after I struck it on the end of the box. The lit half went south, into my sweater, burning a hole through it and giving me a blister on my stomach.)
There will be a bruise on my left elbow tomorrow, where I whacked it on the shelf in the closet this morning. I am writing that here, so that tomorrow when I think, "Ow! That hurts! What did I do to it?!" I will read this and remember that I whacked it on the shelf in the closet.
I may make it a practice to record more of my klutzy doings here so that I have fewer incidents of forgotten mishaps. I need a place to keep track of what I've whacked and where, so that the ensuing bumps and bruises are explained.