So Mojo was late for an appointment (not REALLY late, but Mojo Late, which means she might get there only TEN MINUTES EARLY instead of her usual fifteen or so) so she jumps in the car and heads down the mountain to civilization.

One of the many things about living far, far away from other people is, if you are late to go ANYWHERE, you have the added burden of an additional half hour tacked onto your time, which can work FOR or AGAINST you. If the roads are clear of other pesky drivers you can make up the odd five minutes or so by screeching around the mountain passes like Mario Andretti. But if you get behind a school bus or a turtle, it will easily add another fifteen or twenty minutes to your commute. There is NO PLACE TO PASS, even if the other driver is aware of you and trying to pull over to be nice.

So anyway, I have this appointment to get my Favorite Husband's car serviced, and running just a hair late, so I jump in said car and screech out of the driveway. And a quarter of a mile into the trip I come to a screeching halt as a family of woodcocks are occupying the street, perhaps in protest of Mojo's screeching around in her car. (Note to Mojo's Favorite Mother: No, she is NOT actually screeching. She is Exaggerating for Comic Effect.)

So a short time ago I was held hostage for a good twenty minutes by a VERY nice person who seems to enjoy doing something for a living that--quite frankly--would suck my soul dry and spit it out on the dung heap in about three minutes.

I have met such people before, and I appreciate that they, like me, have found gainful employment doing something they truly enjoy, so that work is not really work. But whereas Mojo does really cool and interesting things--at least to her fevered brain--these people do things I find utterly dull. Like my accountant, F, who is a VERY nice man, he just LOVES going through tax forms. So much so that one time I asked him "Do you really like DOING this?" in a somewhat incredulous voice. I can report back to you that yes, yes indeed he does.

This person who held me hostage is a worker for the federal government, and misinterpreted my polite "hello" for "Gosh, I'd like nothing better than for you to explain to me in excruciating detail the subtle nuances between these three dry-as-toast Federal regulations!" A non-request that said federal worker was more than happy to fulfill. So here's poor Mojo, trying to edge for the door, while this VERY NICE person proceeds to take out form after form and photocopied instruction sheet after photocopied instruction sheet. And then searches madly for a yellow highlighter so that the pertinent facts can be highlighted for my later perusal. Because you just KNOW I'm gonna be reading these things over and over again, and not just stick them in my pocket and have them go through the wash.  MORE Mojo! »

I encountered two mutations of the same creature the other day, in quick succession, which temporarily suspended my conviction that Mojo does indeed lead a Charmed Life. While I was able to escape both without succumbing to my instinct to suddenly shriek "WILL you PLEASE just SHUT UP already!" there were times I was right on the edge.

Who is this critter so destined to drive Mojo batty--or, even worse, cause her to maybe someday be IMPOLITE? They are the slow, tedious last-minute people who thus far do not seem to have a name. Here, I will explain in greater detail, and you will know them INSTANTLY. I will call them Last Minute People for now.

The first mutation is a phone creature. Mojo has her set hours she likes to do things, and she has meetings and responsibilities to attend to, and if there's one thing she HATES it is being late for something. So whenever the clock strikes the hour I must leave to go somewhere, and I'm all dressed and one foot out the door and the phone rings, my initial gut reaction is to never, never, EVER answer it. Because there will be a last-minute person on the other end. And no matter HOW MUCH you stress that you're in a hurry, they're gonna keep you on the phone for at LEAST twenty minutes.  MORE Mojo! »

Mojo quite recently--maybe a month ago--decided to stop being such a layabout and vowed to join the YMCA her Favorite Husband occasionally frequents to get herself back into shape. Not that she is so desperately OUT of shape, mind you, for Mojo is indeed the goddess she thinks she is, but just to hold fast to goddesshood and not let too much ice cream control all other aspects of her life.  MORE Mojo! »

Yesterday I saw an amusing old chestnut I have not seen in a few years on the back of a car. For a brief while I was seeing these all over the place, but I suspect the unintentional humor was not lost on other reasonably intelligent beings, and the practice of plastering one's bumper with such nonsense eventually died out.  MORE Mojo! »

AGES ago, and I mean AGES, like ten years, at least, I was sitting in the pharmacy of what was my HMO then, waiting for a prescription. Like many HMOs they had a built in pharmacy one could use, but it DID mean you had to sit and wait while they thought about filling your prescription. And then when they finally DID, for some reason they were very VERY careful to open the box, take out the directions, and rip off the section that warned you of side effects and nastiness and ONLY give you a tiny little slip that pretty much just said to take it as the doctor told you and smile.  MORE Mojo! »

Okay, purely "crappy" is too strong of a word. I've seen far worse in my time. I guess I was so annoyed at being led so totally astray by the Amazon reviews I went back and read them more carefully. I always read Amazon reviews starting with the worst and heading toward the higher ratings, since I find people's complaints more interesting and thoughtful than THIS IS THE BESTEST MOVIE EVER!!!!! repeated in its various incarnations.

Nothing new there. I still don't understand how so many people rated it so highly, but a couple did clue me into the fact that the film in question--The Descent--was released in the UK last year and is already out on DVD over there. That, and--I find this fascinating, which yet again demonstrates how dull my life is--when they released it here in the US they decided to change the ending and cut a full minute off of it.  MORE Mojo! »

Ratty cat likes to run out on the porch whenever I open the door. Problem is it's cold out there, and I can't keep the door open. If he doesn't come when he's called, I sometimes shut the door and leave him out there in the foolish belief that I'm somehow teaching him a lesson.  MORE Mojo! »