My Monday started out with a bang-literally. I dropped my blow dryer in the sink and there was a big flash of light, the loud blow drier noise disappeared and now I have a new paperweight. Some guy cut me off on the way to work and the pear that I had been lovingly rotating and ripening to perfection since Thursday, took a running start of the passenger seat and plunged into a pulp on the car floor as a result. I suspect Monday has it out for me. Unfortunately for Monday, I am feeling so much better than I did last week, I am ready to take it on! I'm strapping the seat belt around the Mineola tangerine I'm planning to bring back after lunch. Take THAT Monday.
Had an interesting conversation recently with my friend Jason who naively thinks I should go sky diving with him this summer. I'll give you a minute to picture that, stop laughing, dry your eyes and gather yourself back together again. Go ahead. I'll wait.....Y'ok? Good. Never say never and all that, but I just don't see myself jumping out of an airplane on purpose. Oh, I've imagined myself hurtling to my death, but it was was for a multitude of reason, not one of which began with my desire to do so. But I thought I'd entertain Jason and maybe become more enlightened on the subject:
ME: So how to you 'learn' to sky dive? It's not like you can REALLY practice. Jumping off a chair or something and knowing what lever to pull is fine, but there is a significant difference between that and 'practicing' a giggabazzilion stories up.
JASON: Well the first couple of times you jump tandem.
ME: Oh yeah! I've seen that. You are strapped to the back of someone who is experienced and knows what they're doing right?
JASON: Yeah, well...he's strapped to YOUR back...but yeah.
(Insert crickets chirping and me looking incredulous here.)
ME:Let me get this straight. I jump...(let's be honest, I will probably have to be pushed although knowing me, accidentally falling out is also not out of the question...but I digress)...from an airplane.
ME: I plummet hundreds of feet to the earth and by some saving-grace-miracle-the-likes-of-which-have-not-been-witnessed-since-the-birth-of-littlebabyJesus, I manage to safely land on my feet.
ME: And before I am even able to high five my victory over death, I am immediately squashed by a 200# man who is strapped to my back?!?!?!
Jason: Phil doesn't weigh 200#.
Oh. Problem solved I guess. But until Phil grows an actual set of wings, I won't be trying skydiving anytime soon.