Monthly Archives: December 2004

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And so, once again, the day is saved, thanks to… Benjamin Franklin’s suggestion of setting clocks back during the winter for extra daylight to conserve economic spending on candles… and the Powerpuff Girls.

Sometime, early Monday morning, my power went off. Which is why I woke up, around 9:30, that morning – listening to the rain on the roof, snuggling with the kitty, and wondering why it was so light outside. And the clock said 1:30 am. Ooops.

Last night, the power went out again, about 7:30. So I walked around the dark dark house and lit candles. The candle I left in the bathroom, was one of those glass jar candles from Illuminations, that smells like food.* I don’t remember what this one smelled like… it was orange colored, so something orangey. I went into the living room and lit a fire in the fireplace [a very good place for one.] After that, I did a patrol around the house, checking my flames. The candle in the bathroom was not just burning at the wick, the entire thing was burning, it was a jar of giant flame.. a squat little torch, sitting on top of the toilet tank. Way more than I could blow out with one breath, so I grabbed a cup and filled it with water and doused it.

Note:

Hot glass jar + cup of cold water = glass and wax explosion of flames.

At first, when it exploded, the wax was still burning, and I thought the fire was going to spread. The smoke alarm was going off, and I was asking myself, aloud, “now… where would the extinguisher be?” For a moment there were large flames all over the toilet tank lid. But the wax splatters burned out quickly, and then it was pitch black again. So I started dumping cups of water all over the place, in case there was a spark anywhere. Just sort of willy nilly, tossing water. When the lights finally came back on, two plus hours later, I was able to assess the damage. Basically, it looks like someone with orange blood and guts was MURDERED in my bathroom. It’s a very violent scene. Of course the white wall, and cabinet, are now smokey white. I looked at it, shook my head, and said, “Right. Ok… tomorrow.”

I’m confident that the Mr. Clean Magic Eraser can take care of the smoke marks, but I’ll probably be scrapping wax for awhile. Maybe I’ll take a picture for you, when I get home.

*I was going to provide a link to the type of candle I lit, but the Illuminations web site is soooo freaking slow, and I’m a little annoyed with my candle experience right now, that they’ll just have to do without the free referral. Some referral.

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books

Blessed are the mini-marshmellows.

Last night, Louise and I went to a book signing for Christopher Moore’s new book.



(Louise’s boyfriend and his brother were there too, actually.) I was really excited about this signing, because I wanted to have a few books signed. At the very least, my copy of Lamb, which is one of my favorite all time books. So much so, that I bought a first edition hardback copy of it. He did read something, but it was not from the book. In fact, it’s up on his blog, a political piece. And he talked about carbs, Hawaii, the atkins diet, about a plan to bomb 52% of states like Oklahoma from commercial airlines with extra luggage space down below, christmas amnesty [explained in the book], California schadenfreude [also explained in the book] and gave away a t-shirt. Which I did not win. Mores the pity. So to speak.

When you bought a Chris Moore book, if you bought one, you got a numbered ticket that would dictate your place in line. I was six people head of Louise. I instinctively followed the procedure, as I am wont to do, until I find a flaw in it. So for a good 10 or 15 minutes, I stood six people ahead of Louise, listening to the woman behind me. She was demonstrating how very very much she knew Mr. Moore because she emailed him two years ago. I could tell that the women she was talking with could not have been there with her, because had they been friends, they would have to be used to this know it all attitude she displayed, and ignored her. These women were receptive. Goody. She even scoffed at the rapid response she received from him, indicating that he might not have “a life,” unlike herself. A very important woman. That was the only scoffing she did, tho. However, she emailed him with a book idea!! The rest of the time, she gave expert witness testimony. Did she think he’d tone done the political piece before reading it at a signing in Arizona? “you know, I think he will.” It was obvious their one email correspondence made them best friends. She was annoying. I was annoyed. And that’s when I said to myself, “hey… speaking of being annoyed, why am I not hanging out with Louise? what’s the fun of rolling my eyes at this woman if there’s no one around to enjoy it?” So I moved back with her before I was forced to turn around and tell that lady to shut up.

Louise and I had made jokes about whether or not another author would fall under the spell of her lovely accent. And sure enough, what happened… Christopher Moore was powerless against her Darling Accent. Just wanted to listen to her talk. I begged him to stop, because her Darling Accent Ego simply did not need any more fuel. But I’m sure he could not help it. You just can’t. I did say that if he insisted on listening to her talk, I could give him a list of topics that would set her off. Louise said that she now knows that she is destined to become an Author Reading/Signing groupie. For she is so beloved by them. Only the men, it seems. I do not remember Janet Evanovich being all that impressed with her. Also, it will only work in America. As I told her, “you had to leave your homeland in order to be special.” [“to get the attention I so richly deserved!” is her response.]

So, we will continue to go to book events, male authors will be entranced by her accent, she’ll tell charming anecdotes about haggis with words like “minging” in them , and I will make fun of her, in order to mask my pain. Because I don’t have a delightful accent! Even if I moved to Europe or something, people still would not find it delightful! It’s terribly sad, isn’t it?

Two thumbs way up for Christopher Moore appearances! He’s veddy veddy funny. Hoaching with talent, and all that. [today’s title comes from the new book.]

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