asking for help

I don't like to ask for help.

This often manifests itself in my refusal to stop and ask for directions. If I have a problem and get lost, I would rather drive around trying to figure it out for the rest of the day than get out of my vehicle and reveal my failure to complete strangers. One time I DID stop at a gas station to ask for help (I was weak). I had been driving around for about a half hour and I had to be somewhere at a particular time for my job. I walked into the only gas station -- I was in Rudyard, which is basically one street in the middle of nowhere in the upper peninsula -- and the attendant pointed out the window to the building directly across the street. DIRECTLY across the street. Captain Obvious, where were you?!

i saw a bumper sticker on tv (well, on a CAR that was on tv): "Jesus is my airbag." It was on a sitcom and so not technically real, but sadly I think there are people out there who would proudly display that statement on the back of their car, or maybe on their forehead.

In our new apartment I have my very own study, and the walls have been painted red. I don't do any studying there, so I've come to call it "the furnace". I want to put up a curtain of sorts to separate it from the rest of the world, so I bought some fuzzy red material for just that purpose. I've been reminding Chris that I need a tension rod. He keeps asking, "Who's Rod and why do you need his attention?"

Current "Serenity" count: 3 times

You know you're in the presence of true friends when you can chat about coffins. Apparently coffins are available in a wide array of not only styles, but designs as well. Collegiate licensing exists so you can be buried in a box sporting your favorite team's color, logo, name...I personally find this rather bizarre. And by "rather bizarre" I mean "out of your freaking mind." I almost died laughing, though (ugh, no pun intended) first, when my husband decided the image of Spock in that capsule-thing from a Star Trek movie would be ideal for his casket...and second, when our Third Musketeer said she wants Yoda on hers...and then intoned, "Dead, am I"

Live long and prosper.