Zaedah Coast to Coast

In 48 hours, I shall find myself on the opposite coast sipping... whatever people who don't drink sip. Yup, this Pennsylvania chick is heading to California, land of sun, sunburn and possibly sun poisoning. Oh, and did I mention NO WORK!!!!

I've secured a neighbor as house watcher and cat feeder. I'll be boarding the dog at her second favorite place on earth. I'm entrusting the newly bush-happy garden to... well, mother nature and leaving the resident bees to fend for themselves.

I'd like to think the furries will miss me but know too well that The Cats shall be drawing up chalkboard plans for my demise, which will go something like this...
I made myself a promise in 2006 that I would travel at every opportunity. Having a condition that may one day borrow my mobility and then play keep-away, it's silly to wait. Thus I've seen Arizona, the FL Everglades and Williamsburg/Jamestown/Yorktowne. This year shall be Fresno/Ataskadero. I don't care if my friend and I do little more than sit in a meadow everyday playing Uno, as long as I'm there.

Of course (with my luck) my arrival with herald the day of destruction, when The Big One separates the state of California from the rest of the country. But hey, that'll just make it my first island trip!

And I thought I was small...

I have climbed into the boat that ferries the unsuspecting down the river toward middle aged. One might think that, at this stage, I've arrived at a certain level of 'been there, done that.' Apparently, there are still new experiences to be had in this life and I'm soaking up the joy of one right now...

I have poison ivy.

This may not seem unusual to those who spend long summers scratching at rashy skin that is coated a divine shade of calamine pink. But I, Zaedah, have never, ever had the pleasure. It's something to brag about and, if you're me (apologies in advance) there is, on average, so precious little to boast about. I've grabbed the three-leafed nuisance with bare hands and flung the vines carelessly over our fence for eons. Folks, I've even strangled poison sumac with no consequences.

I've been pink all week.

But alas, I did a little internet research - and we all know how reliable that is - and found numerous mentions of tea tree oil as a cure-all for this annoyance. So I jaunt over to the local health store and alas, I could not locate the stuff despite a whopping ten minutes of aisle wandering. I mean, seriously, the store only has four aisles. The reason I missed it became clear later, when I finally held the supposed fixer in hand...
People, it's tiny! Imagine 'Honey I Shrunk the Nail Polish' and you'll have some idea. Or better yet, give yourself a thumbs up, paying particular attention to the size of your thumb nail and you have the gist. But don't worry, it gets better. The cost of this micro-wonder?Yip, what equates to a half a tank of gas is spent on this thing. Thus the rate at which I'm using the oil is the rough equivalent of waving the fumes over my skin. They mentioned neither the size nor the price on those sites that praised the stuff. I will report the success or failure of my experiments, but be assured that in the meantime, I will be avoiding three-leafed things for the rest of time.

It's all in the font?

To protect my happy little car and ensure the big bad police don't take Lil Neon away, I have car insurance. Yup, that thing we pay for monthly which we pray we'll never need and (on short pay weeks) can't figure out the real purpose of?

I received an e-mail from Esurance (the carrier who insists that high premiums and the biggest deductibles on planet earth are beneficial to my personal growth) which details the exciting new change... Are you ready? Sitting down? Defibrillator on hand? Good.

They've changed their logo from this...

To this...
Why? Well, thank goodness I have an e-mail to explain it! I'd have gotten my statements and though them to be fraudulent - and possibly filled with anthrax - had I not known of this change.

They believe - and this is quoting from the source material - that the new logo "is modern and approachable." So what I've gleaned from this is that the new black, lower case font is modern (in that way that means a child who hasn't learned about capitals wrote it) and approachable (in that way of nice old ladies who never shun you). So I can now walk up to the new logo and shake its E?

If they waste actual paper - thus killing trees - to inform others who lack e-mail, I'm switching companies, approachable, modern logo or not!

Mommy's Day

Mother's Day was an interesting affair for me.

The brunch hour was spent in the company of women in their 70's, fighting the onslaught of thinning bones, cataracts and crazy young drivers by staunchly adhering to their code of honor: I'm never so old that I can't kick your @$$

The dinner hour was spent cozying up to a host of related and extended family, helping the kiddies cut their pancakes and watching some of my favorite moms (especially my own) enjoy their designated day.

At work last Friday, strangers kept adding the line "Have a great Mother's Day, if you're a mother." I am not, in fact, a mother, unless you count the long list of furries currently eating me out of house and home. But I appreciate the sentiment. At 35 and (still) single, it's unlikely that I ever will be - though the notion seems to sadden the folks. I proceed through the day knowing that I've missed the boat on claiming this holiday for myself.

Still, I always manage to enjoy the day, hobnobbing with family and doling out those additional hugs to mommy. And I'd like to think that the furries bestow upon me a little extra thanks when they meow and bark.

Glory in the Bathroom

It is stunning. A beautiful work of gleaming art that rips tears from the eyes of angels. A white monument to all that is grand and flawless on this planet.

It's a toilet.

Now I realize that other people (the jaded sort with whom I shall not associate) will not see the perfection in lavatory equipment. But I assure you, the new gem in my bathroom has produced rampant weeping. I simply adore it.

Partially because it's brand spanking new. Mostly because it works.

I feel no shame in proclaiming the rapture soaring through my bones as I gaze at my pretty new friend. Folks, it not only flushes (which is only appreciated when accustomed to one that needed daily floggings) but it's whisper-quiet, snap-quick and did I mention it gleams? Did I also mention that the old one was pink?

Now you see the cause of my joy.