Saturday, May 31, 2008

Call Me Reddy Kilowatt

I feel like I am in Mary Had A Little Lamp. I have two lovely light fixtures awaiting installation at the New Digs. Both are for the kitchen. I drag them with me everywhere I go. They sit by my side like loyal companions as I watch HGTV. I reassure them: "Soon, very soon my pets, you will be hanging in your proper places, and we all will live together, happily ever-after". It has been weeks and they are still in their boxes.

I am too cheap to call an electrician. DDHBF (Doo- Doo Head Boyfriend) promised to put them up, but that was before the unfortunate blow to the head ( I am making an assumption here) that caused him to lose his memory. He has no recollection of ever saying such a thing. I must be crazy...Yes, I must be crazy- for dating a guy that is a bigger girl than I am. If he were not so cute, I would drop him like a hot potato in favor of one of those hunky HGTV handy-guy types. I could adjust to using two syllable words and drinking Miller High Life. No prob-lem-o.

Since DDHBF has other talents that outweigh his lack of do-it-yourself skills, I will be keeping him around for a while. I have decided that if I cannot date Carter Oosterhouse, I will be Carter Oosterhouse.
Numero uno on today’s To-Do List: Install fabu light fixtures.
I have my pink "Do It Herself" tool kit and my metal extension ladder at the ready. All I have to do is translate the installation instructions from Spanish, or maybe it is French, to English and I am good to go.

I am not, by nature, a big risk taker. I usually avoid anything that may potentially cause serious injury or death. Electricity scares the holy schnikee's out of me. My not totally unfounded fear of death is the main reason for today’s post. You see, I cannot count on Vivian to summon help in the unlikely (or not) event that something goes terribly wrong with my plan. Poodles are fickle that way.

I have heard stories of pets that save their owners from burning houses by dialing 911 with their snouts, but I am sure Viv does not like me well enough to make the attempt. I am counting on you (both of you that read this) to report my untimely demise. If there is no new blog entry tomorrow morning, please tell BFSK S. (best friend since kindergarten) that there are two tickets to the Sex And The City movie in the front pocket of my tool belt. I will not be attending tomorrow’s matinee.

Thank you in advance,


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