Why, you ask? Because Mojo is able to channel all the awesome power of the Universe and cause Karma to bite you in the most sensitive of places, THAT's why!

One of Mojo's peculiar little quirks is, there are some towns she does not like to drive through. As in, most of 'em. So often when she goes home she will take an oddly roundabout route, to improve her ratio of trees to buildings along her drive--meaning, the more trees and less buildings, the better.  MORE Mojo! »

Thursday night into Friday we had an ice storm. The power went out Friday morning while I was lounging in the tub. At least it waited THAT long.

When I was a kid of course I LOVED power outages. It was SO exciting. And admittedly, for the first 24 hours I do think it's kinda fun. But then I get sort of tired of playing Little House on the Prairie. I start wanting my effortless conveniences back.  MORE Mojo! »

Mojo never knows what to think about Halloween. She likes free stuff, and she likes candy. But she is not particularly fond of dressing up in costumes. She can appreciate the time and effort and creativity that goes into a good costume, but as regular readers are sadly aware, Mojo does not care to indulge in anything that requires actual effort if she can help it.

Ditto dressing up the house for any holiday, no matter what it is. A great deal of time and money is spent on buying decorations to put up and take down. Halloween and fall are particularly odd, since much of the stuff--like, say, pumpkins--cannot be kept year after year and so you have to keep buying new ones. This seems like an awful waste of Mojo's money.  MORE Mojo! »

My Favorite Husband has taken over dressing my various wounds twice a day, and thus far he is kind enough to insist that the faces he is making is because he is thinking about the various difficult situations he is experiencing at work. I have been purchasing supplies from a local surgical supply store ("local" here meaning three towns over) and it strikes me I need to get better sooner than later before the dressings put us in the poorhouse.

I was thinking a few weeks ago I would blog about my Favorite Husband complaining about the new sheets I bought for the bed. You see, a few years back we finally decided to grow up and buy a real bed instead of a futon mattress on the floor. So we went to the "local" discount bed store and bought the whole nine yards. My only insistance was that we buy a pillow-top mattress, since I wanted to sleep on something for once that did not feel like metal coils. My Favorite Husband's only thing, which seemed to come out of nowhere when the poor salesperson was filling out the paperwork, was that he decided we wanted a king instead of a queen.  MORE Mojo! »

Mojo's unhealthy tendency to tweak authority (a tendency shared with her siblings, despite their protests of innocence--don't believe them for a second!) probably stems from her father. Woe to the child who had to sit next to Dad in church! Dad was full of helpful pointers to get us through the service. "Look reverent," he would whisper if he caught us fidgeting. "Like this—" whereupon he would assume the pose of a thousand oil paintings of Jesus praying in Gethsemane—upraised eyes, serene loving expression, the whole nine yards.  MORE Mojo! »

I finished reading The Weasel's morbid book on the Grand Canyon, and strange as it may seem it has made me more determined than ever to go there and visit. Some of it may be hubris, pretending I am indeed smarter than some of the chuckleheads in said book ("Lookit me! Quick! Take a picture! Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!") but I think most of it is that it scared me, and being a phobic person from 'way back I have learned (the hard way, I assure you!) that the only way to conquer fear is to face it and not run away like the screaming coward I actually am. So now I am determined to go to the Grand Canyon and go rafting and muling and camping and the whole nine yards.  MORE Mojo! »