Nebulous Mooch

The following event occurred in December of 2010, but I kept forgetting to post it.

On a shopping trip to one of my mother’s favorite stores, The Homing Shopping Network Outlet Store, my sister found these crazy shoes.

They are obviously the results of a love affair between a sandal and a boot. I’m going to refer to them as bandals. I can’t figure out when you might wear a shoe of this nature. It seems to me that if you wore your bandals when it was warm outside your ankles would sweat. On the other hand if you wore your bandals when it was cold your toes would freeze. So I guess bandals are designed with moderate temperatures in mind, but I’m reluctant to expose my toes even in moderate temperatures. Bandals must not be for people who tend to have cold feet.

My sister has a knack for finding the funniest clothes in the store. On this shopping trip she also found a strange cardigan configuration that resembled bat’s wings. It looked something like this.

Okay, maybe my drawing doesn’t quite do it justice. The cardigan looked more like this.

She also took me to the mall at one point to show me a particularly unfortunate outfit a mannequin at Forever 21 was sporting. It looked something this.

Actually, it looked worse than that, but with artistic talents as advanced as mine it’s hard to draw something that looks as terrible as that outfit.

I had to buy a new pair of jeans recently and I found that it is much easier to find clothes to laugh at then it is to find clothes that I would actually wear.

My father-in-law left his sunglasses at our house. I think they look good on me.

Too bad I can’t see anything when I’m wearing them. That’s the problem with wearing glasses. Maybe I should just try wearing the sunglasses over my normal glasses. That wouldn’t look to strange, would it?

The other day someone knocked on our door to find out if we wanted to sell our car, Frank, for scrap metal. Frank doesn’t look that good, but we didn’t realize that he looked that bad. He’s loud and rough, but he’s reliable and that’s all we need.

I was so happy to find out that the date of the Rapture has been pushed back. To be perfectly honest, I just wasn’t ready yet. This may seem trivial considering that most people would love to be swept up to heaven in blink of an eye, but I haven’t finished my Flickr Project 365 yet. I don’t think it would be responsible of me to leave my husband to deal with our weed infested driveway alone either. Maybe I sound presumptuous to you, but come on, take a look at the two of us and you’ll notice that certain people who live in this flat just may be sprouting horns. I don’t think they allow horns in Heaven.

Additional Information:

In case you’re interested, I’m starting to post my short stories on this site.

Here are a few pictures from our trip to Yorkshire.

The weather has been lovely here, but I hear there will be rain over the weekend. We have to enjoy the sunshine while it lasts.

We were supposed to fly out of Tampa at 11:22 yesterday morning, but our plane needed repairs. After hours of waiting and standing in lines, we finally ended up on a flight that left at about 6:50 in the evening. Spending all that time in the airport can be great for developing endurance and honing your observation skills.

During my time there I learned that when someone announces a code 3 no one is allowed to leave the security area, but if there is a code 10 everyone just ignores it.

The airport floors are extremely shiny. The airport also appears to be sloped. No wait, that’s just my sloppy photography skills.

People at the airport do a lot of waiting and reading while waiting. (I guess I always knew that.)

Once you realize it will be hours before your plane leaves it’s much nicer to hang out by the airport hotel’s swimming pool.

I’m having a lazy posting day so here are some pictures of us to remind you what we look like.

I come from a long line of printer obsessed people. Well that’s not exactly true. Printers haven’t been around long enough for that to be true, but my parents do have five printers. When my husband reorganized my father’s studio they were reluctant to get rid of any of their printers. Everyone had a specific and very important function.

I understand this love for printers. I’ve had the same printer for years and years. It was a cheap printer, but it never gave me a problem. Let’s call him Melvin. Melvin was well-behaved and friendly–well as friendly as an inanimate object can be. One day Melvin stopped working. I needed a scanner anyway so I decided to buy a new printer. Let’s call him Brad.

I didn’t like Brad one bit. He took up too much space and was really into himself. Melvin sat under my bed gathering dust while Brad sucked all the money from my bank account with his super expensive ink habit. Yesterday, when I noticed that Brad was already starting to whine about wanting more ink….AGAIN, I decided I needed to do something about this problem. I was going to fix Melvin.

I’m the first to admit that I’m not mechanical. My idea of fixing something is bashing it around a bit and then seeing if it’s started working. The idea being that if I hit it in just the right place some loose parts will magically fall into place and it will start working again. Sometimes that actually works, but usually it doesn’t.

I decided to take Melvin apart. It didn’t start out well. There was lots of pulling and twisting and hitting and slamming before I got myself under control and found a video explaining how to fix him. In the video the person gives specific instructions not to remove certain items from inside your printer. Ooops….I already removed those items in my early thrashing around stage of my repair job.

Now that Melvin is in pieces on the dinning table there are a few pieces that I don’t know what to do with. I just don’t know where all these little springs came from. This morning when I suggested that the springs were so small they must not be important my husband laughed and told me that if I put it back together wrong I’d end up with ink spilling all over the place when I tried to print something.

I guess Melvin is ready for the trash, but I’m still not ready to give him up. Of all my regrets taking Melvin apart without proper instructions is my biggest.