Adrenaline Rush

Not everyone appreciates an adrenaline rush like I do. I understand that most people aren’t daredevils. They’d rather have security than excitement in their lives, but not me. I go all out. When I’m not crossing the street against the light I’m leaving mail unopened on the bookcase in the living room. Now that’s taking a risk. Here’s a list of the ten most adrenaline filled things I’ve done in the past two days.

    1. sat outside for five whole minutes even though mosquitoes were swarming around me
    2. walked the dog
    3. tore a do not remove tag from a pillow
    4. stood at the window and told off a paper wasp who was building a nest outside
    5. walked barefoot to the back gate
    6. entered the garage
    7. answered the door when someone knocked
    8. answered the phone even though I didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID
    9. used my computer during a thunderstorm
    10. drank a glass of water even though I didn’t know if it was mine

The Sting of Defeat

paperwaspI was stung by a paper wasp last week, and I did nothing to deserve it. They’ve taken up resistance somewhere beneath the siding of the house near the front window. I was minding my own business checking out the progress of some herbs I planted when suddenly one of those evil little creatures decided to sting me. What? Was I a little to close to the rosemary for you? Did I touch the Holy Basil in the wrong way?

That wasp sting hurt so badly that it prompted a spontaneous dance of pain and a short sprint up the sidewalk. I still bare the scars of the assault, but my husband just keeps saying, “I was stung by a yellow jacket once and it really wasn’t that bad.”

Because I was tired of hearing that I decided to look up the yellow jacket and the paper wasp on the Schmidt Sting Pain Index. Yes, there is a man who went around the world getting stung by insects so he could rate the pain of the sting on a scale from one to four. You can hear all about him on this episode of Radiolab. I’m grateful for his suffering because without him I would be unable to prove to my husband that I have suffered more than him.

According to the Schmidt Sting Pain Index, a yellow jacket sting is a lowly two on the pain scale. A two is just one step away from a one which, when you think about it, might as well be a zero. A paper wasp, on the other hand, is a three which is one step from being a four which might as well be like being stung a million bullet ants.

When I told my husband that he protested. “But it was a European yellow jacket,” he said.

“Yep, still a two,” I said.

Looks like I won that one. The taste of victory is sweet even when I have a red, blister-covered sting on my side.

Photo by touterse

Hurricane Season with a Twist

The thing about not having a television is that I don’t know when to panic. We have now entered hurricane season here in Florida and normally I’d be glued to The Weather Channel tracking the various approaching storms. This time of year is all about trying to figure out the latest spaghetti model from the National Hurricane Center and hoping that the piece of spaghetti that goes nowhere near my home is the most accurate one.

A few days ago we got an enormous amount of rain in this area and a ton of thunderstorms. I spent most of the day wondering if I should be worried. My husband saying that it feels like a hurricane is coming didn’t help matters. I’d look out the windows at the dark clouds hovering in the sky and listen to the rain pounding down on the roof and wonder if I should be scared.

Without any television news people warning me about my impending doom, I don’t know whether to stock up on bottled water and hunker down, or go out and skip through mud puddles whilst singing Anchors Away. Instead, I’m left in limbo spending my time looking at the multicolored maps on weather websites and wondering which color should scare me. Blue could mean, “Oh no a ton of water will sweep you away.” Red could mean, “Danger, Will Robinson, danger!” Are all those lines and circles supposed to mean something to someone who hasn’t gone to meteorology school?

I’m not planning on getting a television any time ever. I’m just hoping that if a category five million hurricane were headed straight for my home someone would call and tell me.

The Zombie Apocalypse

With the much anticipated movie World War Z in the theaters and the recent sightings of two zombies in Miami nightclub, I’ve been wondering how I’d do when the zombie apocalypse finally does come around.

I’m not a particularly fast runner, but when it comes to zombies that usually doesn’t matter. I can’t shoot a gun and every time I’ve swung a bat I’ve missed my target. So far the odds aren’t looking very good for me, but I’m thinking that if I hurl my family and friends toward the zombie horde as I try to escape my odds of survival go way up. A distraction always makes escape easier.

You’re probably thinking, “How selfish! This woman has no heart!” I got an EKG of my heart before we moved back to Florida, so I can assure you that it’s in there beating away. It might be made of potato chips instead of smooth muscle tissue, but that’s unimportant. The important thing is that it’s in there.

I have a strong sense of self-preservation, and I may have a slightly skewed moral compass. Besides I’ve seen plenty of movies where someone sacrifices his or her life for the survival of everyone else. In the movies that person usually volunteers, but is volunteering really that necessary? I don’t think so. I guess the lesson from this post is don’t stand next to me during the zombie apocalypse because when the zombies are deciding whose brains to devour, let’s just say they won’t be choosing mine.

Note: You may be wondering why I’m suddenly writing about the zombie apocalypse. Truth is it’s not so sudden. I’ve been secretly working away at a series of funny books about just that. I’ve published them under a pen name. You can check them out here.

If you’re not really that into silly books with lots of gore you might want to read my serious book, Flying Lessons, if you haven’t already.

Another Note: I started a Facebook page for Nebulous Mooch. You should like it. Yes, you can get stay up to date with the Mooch on Facebook too. Life really is that good. Check it out here.

Just one more thing: I’m starting a newsletter. It will most probably be delivered to your inbox once weekly and include something funny. I’ve put together some of the best posts from The Mooch in one convenient PDF file that you can have in exchange for signing up. That’s right, you can have all the funny in one place. Here’s the sign up form.

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It’s a Special Day

Everyone has a birthday, even if at times they’d like to pretend they didn’t. Whether getting older is good or bad all depends on how you look at it. As of yet I’m undecided, but my husband seems to think it’s a blast. It’s his birthday today. That’s right, on this day 48 years ago the world became a better place.

Happy birthday to the best husband in the world.

39/365 Falling

Can You Eat That?

SONY DSCWe haven’t gotten around to getting a lawnmower yet and the backyard is starting to look a bit like the Amazon Rainforest– if all the plants in the rainforest were no more than five inches tall of course.

I’m sure the Amazon rainforest has a lot of edible things growing in it. I’m sure there are a ton of plants that will kill you in a few seconds growing there too. The secret is knowing what will kill you from what will taste great with a little salt and pepper.

Sometimes I sit on the back step and wonder the same thing about the plants growing in the yard. The fluffy leafy little plants that grow around the roots of the jacaranda tree look edible to me. The other day I picked a tiny bit of leaf and popped in my mouth.

“What are you doing?” my husband exclaimed, “That could kill you.”

“Maybe,” I said, “Maybe not.” Normally I’m the overly cautious one. I guess I was having an off day.

It didn’t kill me, but it also didn’t taste very good. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again, not until I know what I’m eating at least.

The Inflatable Hanger

Have you ever gone somewhere and really wished you had a hanger? I do all the time. I need to keep the hoodie I got at Kmart looking nice. That’s why I was so happy to find this nifty inflatable one. It’s perfect for the woman on the go.

Just fold it up and put it in your purse.

Just fold it up and put it in your purse.

It's easy to blow up.

It’s easy to blow up.


I probably shouldn’t have hung it on the light like that, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.

Happy Valentine’s Day

valentine-dayHappy Valentine’s Day!!! Did that seem enthusiastic enough to you? Valentine’s Day is kind of a non-holiday to me. I much prefer a holiday that involves a big sale, like Presidents’ Day or Labor Day. I love celebrating presidents and honest hard work by getting 50 percent off a new set of sheets.

I am aware that most of the world celebrates Valentines Day. So I have a few quotes about love for you along with my own comments and additions.

Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. ~ Emily Bronte

That’s interesting because I swear my soul is made of liverwurst. I was hoping that my husband’s was made of crackers because that would make a much better match than liverwurst and liverwurst.

Gravitation is not responsible for people falling in love. ~ Albert Einstein

… but it is responsible for all the falling down I do.

When you are in love you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams. ~ Dr. Seuss

… and all this time I thought it was my husband’s snoring keeping me awake … oh wait, that’s actually my own snoring.

Go Girl


I was really bummed when I realized I couldn’t pee while standing up without it dripping down my legs and completely messing up my outfit. Now that I’ve got a Go Girl I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Go Girl is the best solution for women who really, really want to pee while standing. You know you really want to–you really, really do.

Aliens at the Home Show

We went to the Tampa Bay Home Show this weekend because we hope to be homeowners soon. You know those things where lots of companies set up booths in a large space and try desperately to sell to you. I hate those things.

There were tons of booths and tons of things to see, but the most interesting thing had nothing to do with homes at all. It looked kind of like this:


I had no idea that they allowed Martians to set up booths at home shows. I still can’t figure out how they were convincing people to pay to have all their memories downloaded to the mothership. They must have some great sales training programs on Mars.

NOTE: The picture above is just a loose interruption of the scene. I’m pretty sure that most of the people at the booth had arms and were wearing clothes.