It's a Weighty Situation

So we went scale shopping tonight.  We already had one, but it liked to mess with us.


Step on...one weight...step off.

Step back on...four pounds heavier...step off.

Step back on again...six pounds lighter...step off.


And then I swear the scale smirked, just a bit.


So off we went to the store.  Did you know you can scarcely find a scale that will just tell you how much you weigh?

Those darn things check your body fat, your body water (?), your calorie consumption, your muscle percentage, your bone mass, and can even interact with your cell phone.  Our new one isn't quite as fancy as all that, but it will be so, um, er, exciting having all sorts of new data about myself to share...once we figure out how to use what is currently the most high tech thing in our house.

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When the Cat's got my Mouse

Some days I'm just clicking along, rockin' it on my computer.  And some days are like this.


"Clickety, click, click!"

"Clickety, click!"

"Click, click, click!"

And then I'm moving stuff.  I'm swiping stuff.  And ------------------------------------- nothin'.


My mind goes straight to panic.  My computer's broken!  Liquid must have somehow ended up in my keyboard!  Waaaaaaaaaaah!


Then I see my sweet, big ol' cat's paw.  It's just barely touching my track pad.  And "barely" is enough to render my swiping useless.

By the way he smirked at me I'm thinking he knew exactly what he was doing.

And since I gave him big snuggles for doing it, I'm absolutely positive this scene will be repeated again and again.

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Quick, Call a Toe Truck!

Dave and the kid were wrestling on our bed last night.  Happens a lot.  The blanket gets all messed up, pillows end up everywhere, and the clothes I'd carefully set out for the next day end up on the floor...in a heap.

As much as a disruption that this is, I rather like that the guys wrestle.  It's good stuff.


It's good stuff until what happened last night, that is.  They're wrestling on the bed, blanket is messed up, pillows are strewn about, my clothes are in a heap...and the kitten freaks out, runs outa there at break neck speed, steps on my toe, accidentally digging one of his super sharp claws deep, and bolts away.


Me:  "Ooooowwwwwwww!!!"  That really, really hurt!

Me:  "I'm bleeding!"  I was.

Me:  "I need a bandaid!"  I did.

Me:  "I need antibacterial ointment!"  I really did.

Me:  "Isn't somebody going to call a toe truck?!?!"


Silence.

Sometimes my sense of humor is so under-appreciated.

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Low Tech Customer Tracking

You know how there's pretty much no secrets any more.  Seems there's always some way that businesses find out the scoop about what you want and need, and many, many other things about our personal lives.  It's all so very high tech and all.

Well, turns out there's a very low tech method being used at a store here in town.  I was checking out at Trader Joe's and the lovely checker lady said, "You've been in California."

OK, creepy...creepy because it's totally true.

Checker lady:  "You've got California bags.  All except this one from Texas."

OK, not so creepy.  And actually, I rather liked it.  Nice having data collected by a real person with some delightful conversation to go with it.  All with no intention of trying to get even more money out of me.  Good stuff.  Well played, Trader Joe's.

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