Oh! You Mean . . .

Daughter: Is your hair in a bush?

Me: What?

Daughter: Your hair - it's in the bush, right?

Me: What??

Daughter: (Pointing to my head, where my hair is in a bun) Your bush - right there on your head!

Me: Oh! You mean . . . my hair is in a bun. BUN. Not bush.

Daughter: Oh, yeah. Bun.

A few minutes later . . .

Daughter: Can you put my hair in a bush too?

Unplugged

For reasons that shall remain private, I spent the better part of my day yesterday sitting in my house without electricity waiting for Ameren to show up and fix it. I spent nearly 10 hours in my house with no power whatsoever. A house without power is very, very quiet. And very, very boring.

Every time I would think of something to do, it required electricity in some fashion. Watch TV? No. Computer? No. Laundry? No. Eat food? No - mostly because I was determined to save the food in the freezer at least and not open the refrigerator because food stays good longer if you don't open it. Music? No - my iPod is apparently out of batteries.

But after I panicked about not being able to check my email, I had a pretty good day. I read 300 pages of a mystery I've been struggling to get through. I listened to the sounds of the neighborhood. I cleaned out my daughter's drawers and switched her to all summer clothes. I trimmed a couple of shrubs in front of the house, pulled weeds from the flower bed, and ripped out a dead shrub. That last one was a lot of fun and helped me work through my anger at myself for the whole situation, even though I did land on my ass once trying to use all of my body weight to pull out the root cluster.

I did have my cell phone available, but it was running low on charge and I needed to be able to yell at Ameren if needed as the day got later.

We are so used to electricity that being without it is strange and foreign. I can't tell you how many times I walked into a room and flipped on the light switch and was surprised when nothing happened. I reached for the remote about 10 times to turn on the TV. I glanced at the digital cable box at least 20 times to see what time it was. I literally thought, "Well, I guess I should do some laundry" too many times to count.

I worried about what would happen when the sun went down and I couldn't read anymore. I was glad it wasn't any hotter or colder than it was so I didn't suffer from lack of heat or air conditioning. I thought about whether I could force myself to take a cold shower in the morning. I worried about what my hair looked like because I couldn't use a hair dryer or curling iron.

But most of all, I thought, "People used to live like this?"

*Shudder*

I would SO not make it as a pioneer woman. My childhood dreams of being Laura Ingalls Wilder are shattered.

Riddle Me This

So, if those two red-headed, facial haired, weird-ass hat wearing dorks on Mythbusters say we aren't supposed to take a shower during a lightening storm, how the hell am I supposed to get ready for work when there is a lightening storm from 9 pm until at least 10:15 am the next morning? You know, stupid Mythbusters men, there are some people in the world who have to get up every morning and shower and be presentable for a job that, unfortunately, doesn't involve getting to blow shit up for the fun of it.

And this is why I think being scared of thunder storms is just plain silly. I need to shower in the morning, whether it's raining red-headed pussies or not.

Two Years Ago Today

I started this blog. So much has changed in the past two years, I can't begin to think about it. What I do know is that I haven't been as active a blogger in 2009 as I have been in the other years. There are probably several reasons for this and I was thinking about them this morning. Work, kids, life, etc.

However, if I chart my blogging activity over the last 24 months, there is one thing that stands out. When this thing started, my blogging became much more infrequent and random. No, I didn't have a stroke. Or a religious epiphany. Or anything like that. But it was a big thing for me . . . I changed my status from single to "in a relationship."

I think I was using this blog as a substitute for a intimate relationship.

Now stop it, those of you with dirty minds. I wasn't doing anything weird like THAT. Good grief. But the time I otherwise spent with my blog, I now spend with my boyfriend.

BARF.

I can't believe I just said that. I just threw up in my mouth a little. Am I that girl? I've spent a good portion of my life NOT being that girl. But really, how happy was I being that girl?

OK. I was fairly happy, some of the time. Nothing that compares to the happiness I have now, but I was doing fairly well.

Anyway, I'm not going anywhere. I mean, as a blogger. I'll still pop in once and awhile, just like always. I'll probably make a few rude comments here and there. I'm sure I'll hijack someone else's less-than-interesting story with my own much funnier story. (Now back to MY story . . . .)

Oh . . . and here's a thought. If people use their blogs as a substitute for an intimate relationship, what does that say about the bloggers who post multiple times a day?

Do you know you can go blind from that?