Befriend the girl holding her pointy things

I never knew that knitting would make me so many friends. Apparently, there is something soothing about a woman and her yarn. And 12 inch metal sticks with semi sharp points on the end.

You see, knitting needles are legal on airplanes. And THANK GOODNESS for that because I don't know what I would do with myself otherwise. Especially on return trips when I have finished both the books I took with me. On the way there, I had nice conversations with a woman while we waiting for our flight. Then I made friends with another woman on the way. Within 5 minutes, she gave me her business card with her personal number on it. She would like to accompany me on my explorations of the great state of Nevada.

Then, on the way home, I got another phone number but since this one was from someone I already know, it doesn't really count. Honestly, if ever we should meet, part, and then meet again, don't be angry if I don't recognize you. My brain is so filled with useless information (did I mention that Santa farts pepperminty? speaking of farts, someone was farting on the plane on the way home and it wasn't me. I think I was having premonitions because all I could think about on the way to SD was what happens when someone has gas on the plane) that I can't remember important things like what people look like even if I have met them several times. ANYWAY, the lady next to me chatted me up all the way home, which was cool because she was nice. She did not give me her phone number. I'm okay with that.

Writing this, I am wondering if they befriended the girl with the pointy objects because who better to know if a terrorist takes over than the person on the plane with sharp pointy objects? after all my scissors could prick a finger. I feel so used. But in a cool superhero sort of way. It appears that I would have knitting needles hanging out of my utility belt. and um, yarn cuffs, yeah.

I think I am going to have to revise my superhero outfit. thankfully, my new utility belt does not get in the way of my kung fu hair and vice grip thighs.

Crap. I just totally lost my train of though while trying to find the superhero posts then link to them. fuck it. goodnight.

In other Poon related news...

Maybe it's just me. Perhaps there is something about me that reminds people of vaginas, (I certainly hope not) but today at OSHA training another coworker experienced a slip of the tounge and said something about Poon Dog (dog?). I just don't get it, but hey, it kept me giggling all day.

I almost lost it completly when our instructor announced several times over that he is a Muff Man.

Ear Muffs for hearing protection you sicko. In this case, I prefer muffs too. I don't like to stick it in my ear, even if I reach around with my free hand. (Who knew OSHA could sound so dirty?)

What else? I'll be dogsitting the italian greyhounds starting on Saturday which could turn into a real adventure as my grandfather was hospitalized yesterday with pnumonia. He's out today. It's scary. I need to be ready to travel though, at a moments notice. which means I would have to find a way to take the doggies with me. To AZ. EEK!

OH! After much consideration I have realized that I have another superpower. It's an accidental one, and not really too beneficial for me so far, but I have come to the realization that although inconvenient, it can be considered a superpower.

The sight of me nakid makes men fall asleep.

I think this developed during my year long dry spell before Biker Bob arrived in my life. Poor guy. He never stood a chance against the unleashing of my force. It's the only way I can explain the fact that he rolled over and snored every time I came dancing out of the shower all warm, fresh, clean and ready to um...snuggle?

yeah. snuggle.

Which only goes to underline that I will have to move slowly with the next fellow I date because he will have to build up a resistance to my er...charms.

CHARMS!

And anyway, it's better to move slowly. It's like my neighbor said the other day. (He asked if Biker Bob was out of the picture and I told him yes, way out. Where has HE been? Biker Bob hasn't been to my home since what? Late September? October?) "Haste makes Waste". Actually I'm not really sure why he said that. I'm no longer accustomed to my neighbors commenting on my activities. He means well. It's not like I have guys staying the night or anything.

So since I am in the midst of another dry spell, I will have to be extra careful with my goodies. If a year puts them to sleep, two years might kill them! Or at least put him into a coma, which is also no fun for me. And how do you explain that to family? Doctors?

"I don't know, I got undressed and BAM he was out. It's one of my superpowers. I didn't do it on purpose, it just happened."

Sheesh.

So for a recap on my Super Hero Status,

Powers:
Kung Fu Hair
Vice Grip thighs
Nude Figure renders men unconcious

Can be defeated with:
Bananas
Large amounts of noodles
Fits of the giggles.
cockroaches

My apologies, Spell Check isn't working.

Ooh! a contest!

Zube put out a contest to design your superhero costume, so I thought I would share mine. I would like you to note that I did not extend the black trim into my crotch region because I thought it might look like pubes. Also, I am really impressed with my banana. um, banana peel.

Out of control

My sister called me last night while I was a Barnes and Noble trying to find Art Nouveau clip art for my catalog. Here's what she had to say:

"I was thinking just the other day about how when we were little, you used to stuff your mouth so full or spaghetti noodles that your cheeks would bulge out and you could hardly chew. And I thought, next time I talk to Gina, I will have to ask her about it"

I had to reply with the truth.

I still do it. I don't know why. The thing is, I have no noodle control. They fall off the fork then there is just a few, and sometimes they all stick together so that you CAN'T just have one or two at a time. And what might be one mouthful for most people is two or three for me because I have a small mouth. So I end up overstuffing because I just can't help myself.

You might feel the need to leave me a message telling me to cut my noodles up, but I wasn't taught that way and I just can't bear to do it. In my mind there is something terribly wrong with short noodle pieces. I never knew anyone noticed that until Seester mentioned it last night. We both had a good laugh about it, and I'm sure it will be a lifelong issue. Perhaps that is my superhero weakness. I can be beaten by noodles.

My Hair is a weapon

They were talking about rude concert goers this morning on my favorite radio show, and it reminded me of the last time I went to a club.

I was out with work people, including J, (who had recently told me he didn't think we should be involved physically until we got to know each other better, yet he had no issue with grabbing my ass all evening) we had headed to a popular club near the beach and had found a small spot where the 5(ish) of us could squeeze together and enjoy our drinks and dance a little.

Along came a group of cookie cutter girls who wanted to be where we were (who wouldn't?). The crowded into us and made it very uncomfortable for us to continue to be where we were. Since we were not on the dance floor, there was really no reason for them to be that close. We tried pushing and shoving about (we were at this point quite trapped against a railing overlooking the dance floor)but they still didn't get the hint. We girls started plotting, but nothing, short of kicking thier asses seemed likely to get rid of them.

I then had a bright idea. (I get them about once a week)

Now when I go out, I usually put up my long hair because it just gets hot when it is down and I am trying to dance. And I don't like it when my hair gets all sweaty and sticky. But this was a call to action. Down came my hair in a tumbling mass of long blondness. I started dancing, having warned my friends to look out. swinging about to make any stripper proud, my hair turned into a weapon which sent the cookie cutters running. I'm sure a few of them got a face full. They moved on to a less hairy area, and we were able to continue to enjoy our spot. (and J was able to continue his unashamed butt grabbing. I remember thinking at the time that he didn't make any sense, but it was another month or so before I gave up on him completely, and thank goodness for that!)

seems perhaps I have superhero talents after all, with my vice grip thighs (another story) and my hair whip! hmm. Maybe I could be a comic book afterall! I certainly have the geeky side! ooh! story idea! hee hee hee.