not an Inuit kind of gal
Okay, we just watched Fast Runner--have you seen it? For those who have not, it's about a group of Inuits and specifically about a few people in the group (Boy said it's like an Eskimo soap opera, and it Does have a lot of twists and turns). I bring it up because I can't imagine living that kind of life--the movie is set back in time a bit, to when Inuits still lived in igloos and had sled dogs and wore furs 24/7. I mean, I Hate being cold, for one thing. For another, I would not want to eat raw caribou meat, seal meat, and blubber. This seems to be all they ate except for summers when they could eat bird eggs and sometimes birds and sometimes rabbit. How could they survive without vegetables? Can you imagine the constipation? Third, I do not like being dirty, and those people must've been filthy and smelled horrible. So my conclusion is, were a mystical spirit to appear to me on my deathbed and make me choose between oblivion or reincarnation into an Inuit family of 200 years ago, I'd choose oblivion. Twice.
So we got us a hurricane to look forward to tomorrow. I'm not that worried about it because where we live we'll only have rain and some gusty winds, unless the hurricane changes course and heads more westward they they expect. Francisco got us a few supplies and we'll move outside furniture to the crawl space, etc etc, yadda yadda. What sucks is even if we're harder hit than expected, I will still have to go to work, due to my stupid employer having underground power lines. This means the power almost Never goes out, and I know they have a shitload of generators even if it Did go out. However, I think most people who might call or otherwise harrass me tomorrow will Think we're closed, which will make for a light day. So bring it, Isabel. I'm not afraid.
This has nothing to do with anything, but let me tell you how to get candle wax out of upholstery. I recently had cause to test this out, and frankly I was skeptical, but it worked like a charm. First you're supposed to put ice on the wax until it's hardened and flake it off ( as much as will come off) with the blunt side of a butter knife. Then you put a paper towel over the remaining wax and iron it with a warm iron. Wax melts, paper towel soaks it up. This method still left little grease-type spots on the couch, but we're going to see if they come out with some upholstery cleaner, applied gingerly. This wax removal method is one advanced by none other than Martha Stewart, and though I'm not her biggest fan, I'm thrilled that her advice worked. I really love that couch. A lot.
Have you seen Etiquette Hell? It's been recently updated and I've been wasting too much time on it this week. In reading all the new stories, it occurred to me that maybe we don't really want to have a wedding chapel after all, because it seems like we'd have to deal with a lot more crap than I ever imagined. I'm starting to rethink that whole idea; I hate dealing with difficult people. And there are apparently many, many difficult people in this world.
That's about all for now. I got pretty busy this afternoon, with one thing and another, and don't have more time to write.
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