12. I am the Grim Reaper of Vacuums

Continuing the 25 Random Things meme again (some day I'll finish, I promise).

12. In the eight years I've been married, I've gone through something like five vacuum cleaners. I can't seem to keep them operational. We've bought cheapy off-brands (because we were poor) and supposed brand leaders (you can use Hoover as a verb; you'd think the product would last longer than a summer). Some vacuums' belts have broken with nearly every use. Some get clogged and overheat too easily. Some have worked great for a while, lulling me into a false sense of security, before suddenly letting out a grinding shriek and collapsing in a puff of acrid smoke. I won't ask for brand recommendations, as I've already broken almost every brand, but I am open to advice! Anyone familiar with zen and the art of vacuum cleaner maintenance? Is there some specific prayer or incantation I should utter before each use? How often should I be cleaning out the brushes and/or hoses? How often do most people go through belts? Am I a hopeless cause? (If you saw the general state of my housekeeping, you would say yes. Without even considering the vacuum question.)

13. DH has rubbed off on me: I've become weirdly superstitious since knowing him. On one of our first dates, a black cat crossed the road in front of us and he drew in a sharp breath. "Bad luck," he muttered. I thought he was kidding. The man -- having spent 14 years in higher education (longer than his public school career, from preschool through high school, geez) -- is clearly over-educated; surely he knows enough not to worry about black cats or ladders or broken mirrors.... Yeah, not so much. He's got all sorts of random superstitions passed down from his old-world grandfather. And now lately I find myself wary of the number 13 and warning the girls about opening umbrellas indoors. I feel compelled to eat at least one bite of cake at all celebratory events (well, that one isn't so much a superstition as a love of cake, but you get the idea). It's all his fault, I tell you.

14. The non-committal filler phrase if you will ("Tres reminds me of a monkey -- a diapered baby chimpanzee, if you will") always makes me want to ask, "What if I won't?"

15. I used to love having leg waxing parties with my sisters, because there is no better way to bond than by simultaneously ripping off your leg hairs together, your screams mingling melodiously with the screams of three or four others. (I know we had at least one hold out -- *cough*AnnaJo*cough* -- and possibly two. I don't remember whether or not Becca ever waxed with us.) Those days may be long gone, but I recently purchased the Braun 5270 epilator system and it is freaking awesome. It yanks out those leg hairs as quick as can be, with no mercy whatsoever, and it hurts -- oh my goodness, it kills! -- but in such a good way. Even better is going over the same bit of skin a day or two later to catch the new growth and noticing how much less it hurts because there are fewer hairs to pull. Soon my legs will be smooth like buttah for a month or more at a time! I love it! I'm up for a party, seesters! Who's with me?

16. I have four empty Diet Dr. Pepper cans and a large bag of Reece's Pieces sitting on my desk. I don't even really like Reece's that much (I have an on-again, off-again relationship with peanut butter) but I have them because they are one type of chocolate candy that the girls will not steal from me. I don't eat them very often; it'll probably take me a few months to get through the bag. Of course in that time I will accumulate many, many more Diet Dr. Pepper cans (which I will hopefully clear off the desk more promptly so as not to highlight my soda pop gluttony).

17. I have an occasionally recurring dream that I am enrolled in a math class I never attend. I've been to it once or twice, then decided it was not worth my time. In the dream, a test or the end of the semester (some kind of important deadline) is coming up and I realize that it's been so long since I attended, I don't even know which classroom it's in or who teaches it. Gripped by very slight panic, I wonder if maybe I should find those things out. But then I shrug -- eh, whatever -- and figure I'll just accept the consequences that come of my absence. It's not a nightmare so much as a repeated reminder of my lack of ambition. And/or my dislike of math.

Time to put the girlies to bed. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of 25 things about me! :-)


~RCH~