knowledge is power...or something like that.

i seem to learn things best the hard way. (in fact, i'm sure there are folks out there who are convinced it's the only way i learn- mama included.) i can tell you (from experience) that it's unwise to try to due that tom cruise sock-sliding thing on a freshly waxed floor.* i also know for a fact that you should always check to make sure the coast is clear before talking trash about someone, as they will inevitably walk into the room just as you really get going.

today was not only a monday, but a day of serious learning here in duffworld:

1. it is good to always wash one's hands an extra time or two after handling jalapeños, preferably before rubbing one's eyes. (thankfully, i only rubbed one.)

2. even pickled cauliflower goes bad. in fact, even if the jar is unopened and less than five years past the expiration date (but more than three), you should probably just open it, dump the contents down the disposal, and recycle the glass jar. **

3. it is possible to consume too many jalapeños in one sitting....and if the york peppermint patty i found in the freezer doesn't catch up to those jalapeños by tomorrow, i might regret it all over again.

all that learning was rather exhausting, so i'm off to bed. (i'll be stopping by the freezer en route, just in case i have another one of those york peppermint patties. i'm thinking it might be good for insurance purposes.)

*couch jumping, however, is a fun way to burn calories and get exercise- especially when you're under the age of ten.

**the shelf life for canned reddi whip is much shorter. trust me on this.

sorry about the traumatized cat, but i'd rather hear about the budweiser frogs

i can think of few things i'm looking forward to more than the end of the political ad season. in fact, i believe the list is basically limited to:

1. my next vacation
2. my next appointment with the hunky orthodontist
3. my next hot date (i'll settle for a lukewarm one, though.)
4. the creation of a jack lalanne power juicer in purple.*

no sooner did my favorite tv shows start gearing up for the fall season than the spaces between wound up filled up with mud slung between candidates. i'd compare it to the fuzzy grout i found in SO's shower a few weeks ago, but really, i think the fuzzy grout may be preferable to spending approximately 12 minutes an hour (after all, tv stations still manage to carve out a little room for their promos and teasers) listening to "regular americans" detail every wrongdoing of their least favorite candidates. i do not care if candidate x used to color his little sister's cabbage patch kids with sharpies. i do not care if candidate y hid all of her lima beans in the nearest potted plant during her younger years. i do not care if candidate x likes to prance around in his wife's crotchless panties. i do not care what candidate y did with a rubber chicken and some peach preserves on a dare in college.

i know it's a question that's been asked before, but why don't the ads ever focus on what a particular candidate is for, rather than the various flaws of their opponent?

i'm voting for the man/woman/hermaphrodite who worries about the environment, doesn't care who you marry, as long as you stay within your species, would rather have a splinter pulled out of their big toe with a pair of needlenose pliers than raise taxes on the middle class, and would rather spend 30 seconds of ad time stating the above than telling us what their opponent may or may not have done with a jar of manic panic and the neighbor's cat back when they were twelve years old.

failing that, i'm writing in jack lalanne, as i'm pretty sure one doesn't make it to 96 without having a little common sense....and then maybe he can hire an assistant to get crackin' on that purple juicer issue.

*i'm kidding. please don't buy me one.

you don't look a day over....

so there we were, at the most recent gathering of the thursday night club. one of the members brought his mother out for dinner, drinks, and crap- is there a "d" word for singing? i'm afraid i'm not awake enough to come up with it at the moment.

anyway, i was engaged in conversation with said member and his mother, when she paused, took a good look at me, and inquired as to my age.

"hopefully, still older than i look," i said.

"you look very young," she said.

"how old do you think i am?"

she hemmed. she hawed. she volunteered that she was horrible with this sort of thing. i pointed out that she brought it up.

"you look about 35."

it was pointed out to me that she'd had the better part of a bottle of white wine throughout the evening. this was small consolation.

perhaps i need my braces back.

after a 7 1/2 month hiatus- a classy, mature first post

nothing says "PAAAARRRRRTTTTYY!" like puking.

no, this isn't a reminiscence of the "frying pan incident" or the "tequila jello shot incident"....nor any of the overindulgences that i actually remember.

this is far more recent, as in 12 hours or so ago.

also, this time i'm innocent, having developed a serious distaste for regurgitation years ago. (not only would i not make a good bulemic, but when i worked at the preschool, i established with my assistant(s) early on that if a kid hurled, i'd be the one calling the parents, as otherwise, i'd be highly likely to add to the pile.)

while hiking the mile from the free parking lot (thank you, verizon wireless amphitheater in charlotte) to the venue itself for last night's kings of leon show, my concert companion commented on the number of folks tailgating/prepartying before the show. neither of us can grasp the concept of shelling out $70+ for a concert ticket, only to get plastered before the show and not remember anything beyond the opening act the next day.

however, it seems that others "get it".....like the chick two rows ahead of us.

our attention was drawn first to her big-boned friend, whom we referred to as "skunk", in honor of her stylish (5-10 years ago) two-tone coif. when we first spied skunk, she was chatting up "man boob", the security guard in charge of the gate between the reserved seating area for poor people and the new "vip" section, which i'm sure costs extra. given the intensity of their chatting, complete with some serious flirting on her part (unless all that eyelash batting was in an attempt to get her mascara to dry), i figured for sure that they'd either start making out, or she'd wind up in one of the empty vip boxes.

sadly, it was not to be.

skunk waved her slightly more attractive friend over, so man boob could snap a picture of the two of them during the black keys' set. this would have been nothing to write home about, except the friend, who i'll call "hurley", leaned over as the photo was being snapped and licked skunk's neck. we thought she was just goofing around, but about half an hour later, during the intermission before kings of leon took the stage, we looked over and hurley was decorating the empty seat next to her. (by "decorate", i do not mean she'd whipped out a hot glue gun and some rhinestones. i'm talking about non-aerosol spray painting with her dinner.) skunk actually paused her conversation with man boob and came over to check on hurley. meanwhile, the guy on the other side of hurley was unfazed.

a medic was called over, but hurley and skunk managed to convince her she was fine. (perhaps she blamed it on bad shrimp.) the cleanup crew arrived about half an hour later. the smell of disinfectant blended interestingly with that of certain smokeables, the latter of which being present for a good chunk of the kings of leon's set.

the medic wasn't quite so easily convinced the second time, however. i'm not sure if hurley had a second technicolor yawn, but when i got a clear view, she was passed out like a sorority girl after a frat party. skunk and the medic somehow roused her enough to be led out of our section, if not the whole venue. again, the guy on the other side of hurley was unfazed.

as the action in that area wound down, the chick directly in front of us got going. i'm not sure how her fiance/husband managed to ignore her advances, but i have to admire his restraint. i'll spare you the sordid details (though i must point out that neck licking seems to be a clear indicator of drunkenness), but suffice it to say that he probably got lucky last night, unless she passed out while they were waiting to leave the parking lot after the show.

i'm willing to bet that on the walk to the car, though, a bystander probably had occasion to scream "PAAAAAAARTY!"