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Though I love my mixer, it’s not always convenient. Rather, I should say, sometimes I’m lazy. Like, when I make mashed potatoes on a Tuesday night.

So while I was at the grocery story last weekend, I grabbed a cheap potato masher to use on those lazy-potato-mashing-days. When the cashier picked up the masher, she inspected it like it was a deflated alien head.

“Man!” she screamed. “I haven’t seen anybody buy one of these in … well, forever!”

Sorry, Cashier Lady, I couldn’t find the iPad aisle, so I just grabbed this ancient technology, which I’m going to use to build my own private pyramid with in an ancient land far away.

Her response made me feel like I was buying some floppy discs and a Commodore 64. I mean, come on, I just wanted some mashed potatoes — and a little bicep exercise. Is that too much to ask for in 2011?

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I have to admit, upon starting a book, I have to be OK with the idea that I may actually never finish it. So far, my moral compass hasn’t shown any signs of sputtering out. To be honest, reading for pleasure is, well, not always a pleasure. I want to do it, I love to do it, but I can’t always do it. The culprit: my job. My job is to read. All day, I read. Sometimes I read so hard that my head actually hurts. That sounds so lame. But it’s true. So, sometimes taking a book for a joyride takes a backseat, especially books. But nevertheless, I make attempts. There are beach days, weekends by the pool, doctor’s appointments, etc. that make a good book come in handy.

I like the The Know-It-All so far; it’s like Jeopardy on crack with a sense of humor. A couple of years ago, I was walking through Barnes & Noble when I saw the cover of this book by A.J. Jacobs. I read the back cover and started laughing out loud, so I opened it up to read the first page. Again, a PDL — public display of laughter. I ran over to J huffing, “You have to hear this!” As we continued to walk around the store, I was laughing out loud and spitting half sentences out to J. Finally he said, “We should get that for my grandfather.” (It was Christmas.) So we did. And I think Herb liked it. He turned around and gave it to Aunt L. who then mailed it to me! The Circle of Books. I love it!

I’m in the Gs. I hope I’ll make it to the Zs soon.

The second book I’m in the middle of is The Carrot Principle. To be honest, I must have started this book out of desperation to want to read something else, and this was all I could find. It’s really not my usual pick for word fodder. I think someone gave it to J to read. Anywho, interesting, I guess, if you’re looking for that professional motivation-how to be a better manager-get your team spirit on type of read. I like it for the that’s-why-humans-do-what-they-do aspect.

Last but certainly not least (in fact, as I’m typing this, I can think of at least 2 other books I’m in the middle of), I’m almost done with Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Another book gifted to me, from one word nerd to another. The book is dedicated to punctuation (if the title didn’t make you laugh or scoff, this book probably isn’t for you). Yep, the colon, the comma (I’ll confess, I hate the Oxford comma, there I said it), the period, the history of them all.

Even though the author is from Across the Pond, I think it should be required reading for kids here in America.

So there it is, my dirty laundry of unfinished books.

Any good reads out there that I should get a jump on?

Behold, the power of a single letter!

I saw this one at the local bowling alley last weekend. I quickly whipped out my camera — because I don’t leave home without it — to take a picture of this lovely word oops! Afterward, I promptly notified the I-hate-my-job-at-this-bowling-alley girl that she might want to add an ‘s’ to the sign, which was displayed for every five- and 40-year-old walking in the front door. She actually seemed mad that I was telling her what to do. I was just suggesting.

And people wonder why spelling and editing are so important. Well, for me, it’s job security 😉

You know there must be a party going on if you’re chilling with a Lemonade Capri Sun in your hand.  Yep, that load of sugary juice tucked away inside a foil bag with a surfer dude on it, it was all mine yesterday.  I was going to opt for the boring kid’s-birthday-party-drink-norm of a Coke or Sprite, but then I saw the motherload — a cooler of Capri Suns. Packed in with layers of ice, all with their plastic-wrapped straw neatly attached.  I was sold.  I found my inner-child.

So it was, on Saturday I had five hours of a seven year old’s birthday party.  Given the beverage array, promises of an unlimited potato chip bowl and cake, plus the fact there were TWO — not one, but TWO — blow-up bounce houses, it was really a no-brainer as to why I was there.  Oh yeah, and it was my little brother-in-law’s birthday.

Of course, everyone had to ask the six-degrees question: “Sooooo, how do you know the birthday boy?”  And putting the story together was always fun.

“I’m married to J, and J’s father is the father of the birthday boy.”

“Oh, the birthday boy is my brother.” (Receive strange stare, as we all know a blonde-hair-fair-skinned child can’t have an Asian sister.) “Brother-in-law,” I clarify.

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