And Now a Fact From Mr. Science

Here's an interesting fact:

One side of the body feels pain more intensely than the other side.

Oh, wait. I have that wrong. Actually it is this:

Having someone jab a tiny needle with a syringe full of vein killing solution into a vein above your shin bone hurts like someone jabbing a tiny needle with a syringe full of vein killing solution into a vein above your shin bone.

Just in case you were wondering.

So here is where I would put a picture of my cotton ball covered legs after Round Three with Veinessa. However, I would prefer that you return readers continue to do so and to that end I am posting a picture of JoeyKatt. He would never jab a jab a tiny needle with a syringe full of vein killing solution into a vein above your shin bone. Unless you failed to feed him...or let him out....or feed him...

You paid HOW MUCH to find out having a tiny needle with a syringe full of vein killing solution into a vein above your shin bone would hurt?! Now feed me. Again.

When He Says Ignore the Man Behind the Curtain, You Ignore the Man Behind the Curtain.

Illusion. Delusion...

I made the mistake of looking up the website of one of my favorite new singers. The musician has a voice that fuels my dreams of dropping everything and working at a diner on a beach. In my head, he is 30ish with wind blown brownish-blonde hair. His tan bod is dressed in an open collar white shirt and well worn jeans. And he is barefoot.

Not that I have given it much thought.

(Here is where my husband would like it to be known that 'He told me so'.)

You remember the scene in The Wizard of Oz where the wizard is hiding behind a curtain warning Dorothy not to look? It was like that but instead of the kindly wizard Dorothy discovered Conway Twitty. No wait, that was me. I know I sound shallow. You should never judge a person by their looks but come on! Dreamy Bobby Sherman voice...with a Conway Twitty head. 

And to prove that I am not a hater: 

Me, with my very own Conway Twitty Hairdo.

Twitty Hair. Its not good for anyone. (Except of course  for Mr. Twitty, who seemed to do alright.)

(And, to be fair, the guy mentioned in the above ramble is an awesome musician and I refuse to put his name here because I am still holding out hope that one day I might meet him and get to tell him how much I love his music and once we have bonded over our mutual love of beaches and sailing he will be open to my suggestion for a haircut. I am thinking something more Bruce Willis and less Twitty-bird...)

Hello? Most Ridiculous Complaint Department?

I am a TurkeyDay Prepper. For the past eight hours I have been systematically chopping, baking, sauteing, pre-blending, displacement measuring and brining. All in preparation for a day of thanks. As I was stuffing the last plastic container of turkey broth gravy base into the fridge I uttered the Most Ridiculous Complaint ever uttered.

"There is too much food in this refrigerator."

As the twelve pounds of cranberry sauce slid to the left, providing a domino effect of open space between the brussel sprouts with bacon and the three gallons of whipping cream, it occurred to me that having 'too much food' was possibly the Most Ridiculous thing to complain about. Ever.

It ranks right up there with "there are too many people coming for dinner" and "this stupid huge house is a pain to clean".

Perhaps if we looked at these Most Ridiculous Complaints in a mirror we might spend more than one day a year purposely giving thanks. 

Wait! I think there's a spot between the water pitcher and the OJ

Happy Thanksgiving from the Coast of Illinois! May you have a year full of Most Ridiculous Complaints and not a single serious or sad one.

Hairnet Roundup 11-19-2012

The Hairnet Spotters have been uber-busy this week. I have received Net photos from all over the Greater Coastal Area. And with those photos we have come closer to understanding the lifespan and life style of the Common Mid-American Hairnet. (Don't be afraid. If you are new to the CoastofIllinois - check here for some background.)

Here we have an extremely rare photo of Hairnet DNA. 

The Building Block of Life

Notice the typical double helix design. But, if you look closely you will notice the beginning formation of the capsule or 'net'. This is the portion of the DNA strand that begins to break apart, forming the waffle weave normally associated with our Hairnets. This allows for maximum stretch to cover a wide variety of heads and hair-dos.

Here we have a mature Net. Take note of the residual DNA column extending from the bulky center. 

In Sight...It must be Right...

Most Nets are responsible and generally follow in the food service industry tradition of their fore-bearers. This particular Net was employed at a well known Fresh Food Restaurant known for its BeanCrock.

Our next Net is at the end of its life cycle. Sadly, it has not fared as well as its free floating brethren tumbling along sidewalks and parking garages to the whim the breeze. No, this poor Net has taken refuge in the corner of a convenient elevator, hiding amongst bits of paper and plastic; a sad attempt at maintaining coverage of something...anything...

A Hairnet is such a Terrible thing to Waste

I have included this final picture as a cautionary footnote lest Readers, you have forgotten how truly dangerous the Hairnet can be.

License to Lunch...Lady....

 Observe the heavy polyurethane containment device holding the Nets in a neat stack. This establishment is taking no chances with its Hairnet protocol. To the left you will see an emergency telephone. To the right please note the professional Hairnet Dispensing License as well as a Hairnet Safety Checklist Clipboard. And lastly, below the Containment Device an emergency release valve. Should the Nets dispense too quickly, the Hairnet Safety Office is charged with the task twisting the release valve thus filling the room with an ozone decimating layer of AquaNet.

Thanks to all my Hairnet Spotters. With your diligence and quick phone-camera snapping the Coast of Illinois, nay, the World is a safer place!

Oh Don't Get Your Pantaloons and Petticoats in a Bunch

I really try my best to stay out of politics. I find political arguments discussions are a major trigger to stomach upset, migraines and the occasional black eye. Yet, post election there is talk of states seceding from the Union. I assumed it was just Internets chatter from people who had depleted their stock of cute kitten pictures. But on my commute to work I took note of the beginning invasion and I feel it is my civic duty to state the obvious:

Robert E. Lee! If the South is gonna rise again then fellows, you are gonna need a bigger boat!

I do declare! Fix me another one of them juleps. This invasion is gonna take forever.

Disclaimer

The content of this blog is for entertainment purposes only It is not meant as an indictment of any of the fine states of this great nation or its citizens, no matter how silly. In fact, the author of this blog loves sweet tea, grits and the Gulf Coast. And cotton. She loves cotton. Not too fond of tobacco but man she loves cotton...except for the ironing. No riverboat captains were injured in the writing of this blog however, the author's ego took a beating from the smirks and laughter of her fellow train riders as she snapped a dozen photos of the coastline we see Every Single Day. But seriously, it was 0730 in the morning and there was an actual steaming riverboat traveling up the Mississippi. Oh wait, the author is being informed that the riverboat actually has a diesel engine and the paddle wheel is just for show.

Well, crapmonkey.

The Screaming You Hear Would Be Me

As I write this I am sitting in the kitchen, a circa 1982 Madonna-Like A Virgin-size rip in the left leg of my support hose which I am wearing under denim shorts. Thankfully the right leg, the one doing the actual work, remains intact. It is November and here on the Coast of Illinois it is 70 degrees. Did I mention that I am in support hose?

"Why?" you might ask. (Although a sane person would just accept it and walk away.) But we both know that ship has sailed so I will tell you. I went round two with Veinessa this week and my reward was three rolls of tape wrapped around the my leg from just above my knee to mid calf as wells as a sentence of support hose for four days. Something about keeping the vein compressed and causing me much discomfort. I feel as though I am being punished for some previous crime against humanity. I am telling you right now, you make a terror suspect wear a pair of support hose for four days and that person will talk faster than a Kardashian can get married. Feed them a bean dinner and they won't last six hours.

You think I exaggerate? Let me paint you a little picture. Imagine sticking both feet into a rubber tube that will only stretch apart six inches. Now pull this rubber tube up both legs, avoiding the tender taped up area behind your knee. Next fling yourself on your back, both feet in the air, while you frantically try to loosen the tension caused by an excess of fabric wrapped around your calf so tight your baby toe has turned purple. Curse. Give one, final mighty tug, thus putting your entire fist through the nylon which attaches the lower half of the tube to the upper half of the tube. Curse, curse,curse. You can't change pairs because the back up is in the wash so you soldier on with the now semi-disabled stockings finally ending up with so much extra compression fabric that the waistband sits just under your second rib while the crotch remains firmly hammocked halfway up your thighs.

And that is why I find myself wearing two-thirds of a pair of support hose. If only I had thought ahead . The YouTube video would have made enough money to pay for my current treatment and psycho-therapy for the video's first hundred viewers.

(ps-I can't even begin to speak to the actual ripping off of the tape. It is now a suppressed memory destined to surface when I am an eighty year old nursing home patient.)

((pss- and while the nursing home attendants wrestle to restrain me they will comment on how lovely my vein free legs are...so there's that...))

Osmotic Carbo-Loading...its a thing

Thanks to the haranguing encouragement of a co-worker (Karen) I downloaded the C25K app onto my iPod. This adorable (because its free) app promises to have you running a 5K in just three-thirty minute a week for eight weeks workouts. I should point out here that I have NO interest in running a 5K. I DO have an interest in purchasing a new pair of jeans from the GAP in my current or smaller size without the scrawny 40K running salesclerk rolling her eyes when I step into the changing room.

I managed to 'jog'/walk through my first thirty minute workout without taking a break but frankly, if they don't want you to stop then they shouldn't include a 'pause' feature. And FYI Chirpy Disembodied Female Voice – I need more encouragement than 'you're halfway there'. I want encouragement in the form of 'Your butt is going to look like Selma Hayak's in those new jeans' or 'Is that the phone? It has to be Victoria's Secret calling for their holiday runway show'. As it was, I am pretty sure I heard a tone every time she said 'begin your run now'. For some people 4.5 miles an hour is running.

Did I mention that I was watching the FoodNetwork while on the treadmill? Oh, and the guy was making a (I am not kidding here) Grilled Mac and Cheese Sandwich with Bacon.

I am pretty sure that Chirpy Disembodied Female Voice deleted my Day One success check.