Invasion of the giant snails...

Pails of giant house eating African snails were recently taken into custody at LAX, where they had been labeled for consumption and shipped in pails.  Apparently, the snails are an environmental  hazard.  You can read the whole story here:  Link to article  

mirror.uk.news

This whole story is just begging for animation.

What do you call a group of house-eating snails? A swarm of snails?  Doesn't swarm imply speed?  That doesn't work then, does it?  A swaaarrrrrmmmmm of snails?  A body of snails?  A flock of snails?

According to Ask.com, you call a group of snails an escargatoire, rout or walk.  I love escargatoire-so artsy, so avante-garde...I might not mind telling people my house got eaten by a escargatoire of snails.  Or is that redundant.  Would you just say "My house got eaten by an escargatoire?"

If you are making a science fiction movie about house-eating snails, you might want to use "Walk of snails".  Doesn't that have the sound of a cheesy sci-fi horror flick?  If, however, your movie is more art house than documentary - then you definitely want to stick with "escargatoire".  If you are making a documentary on house-eating snails, it might be best to use "rout of snails", which sounds somewhat technical.  Hey, what's the rout of 16?  Answer:  4 Snails.  Hahaha.  I crack myself up.

Okay kids, be careful out there.  Don't pick up any hitch-hiking snails.

Chicken out

Life is Like a Teeter-Totter...

It's not much fun unless it's going up and down.

I read part of an article recently about achieving balance in one's life.  The article asked various authors of self-help books what balance means to them.  I think it was Simple magazine-I can retrace my steps if anyone is interested.

I asked myself the same question, me being the supposed, but not confirmed, authority on me, and the answer I received is that balance is an urban myth.  Balancing your life, in my opinion, is like telling the tide to stop rising at that perfect place just a few feet from your beach blanket. You can't stop  the ebb and flow of your life any more than you can stop the tide from rising or going out, try as you might, with your routines, systems and advance planning.

So what is balance, then, and why do we covet it?  Do we focus on balance at the expense of flow?

The closest I come to what some might describe as balance is when I am fully engaged in the moment.  It might be cooking, playing a game of Yahtzee with littleb, writing a post, or cleaning out a cupboard. Whatever it is, I'm in the zone.  There is a feeling of contentment and good will.  If I could string a lifetime's worth of these moments together, I could live in balance, but that's not my goal.  A perfectly balanced teeter-totter might be fun for a moment, but it's the ups and downs that make it interesting.

Fashion is a Two-Faced Bitch: Closet Tech

Late adopter that I am, I've just only recently  discovered the  usefulness of apps.  I've got a fitness app, a running app, a financial app, real estate app, and don't get me started on all the educational  apps I've downloaded.

It would be nice to have a personal shopper app.  An app that would shop my closet, pulling together looks that never would have occurred to me.  Unlike most personal shoppers, whose primary mission is to spend all your money, my app is like a classy, stylish, environmentally concerned friend; the friend who rolls her eyes when I complain I have nothing to wear,  throws open my closet door, rummages through hangers, occasionally pulling things out and tossing them on the bed.  She'll bark at me to try this and that together with the nude pumps and, oh, look, we can take this old ribbon and these bottle caps and spray paint them gold to make a statement necklace.    Then she'll smirk at me and say, "By the way, Chicken, why do you have bottle caps in your closet?  That seems bad.", and I'll say, as I struggle to tuck in a shirt tail, "Never mind that, where the hell did the ribbon come from?"  She'll study me as I stand before her in the appointed outfit, tapping her index finger to her lips, finally declaring, "No, no, not like that, like this."  She'll yank here, pull there, and voila, there I am, suddenly presentable.  Fashionable, even.

Wouldn't you pay for an app like that? 

She would be like Siri, but with a fashion sense.  Maybe we could call her Jane.  Doesn't that seem like a nice name for an app?

Oh, I can hear you thinking, out there,  don't think I can't.  "Surely you already know what's in your own closet and what goes with what?"  To that I would answer, "Have you met me?"  Most of you haven't, so allow me to illustrate.  I have little sense of style and multiple personalities.  I buy clothes completely on impulse.  Some days my gut says, "I'm a pirate", and other days it says "I'm sporty".  For quite a few years, my gut insisted I was a Cub Scout.  It's no wonder my closet is confused.  Have you ever seen a sporty pirate?  I mean, I can almost see it....maybe a plaid kilt-like tennis skirt with a laced up, flared sleeve shirt, paired with an eye patch and classic Tretorns, for instance.  My gut says fabulous.  My common sense tells me this is not a good work look.  I'm also practically color blind.  Have you ever seen a sporty pirate wearing a black heart on her t-shirt?  Oh, you think, she's being an ironic sporty pirate, but she's not.  She thinks the heart is red.  She's feeling flirty.  Ironic sporty pirate; kind of twisted and cool, pair with some heavy black eyeliner and send her out the door.  Leaving the whole mutton dressed as  lamb issue behind for a moment, it could work if she was internally channeling Marilyn Manson instead of Marilyn Monroe.

Of course, like all things fashion-related, it is only a matter of time before Jane begins mocking me.

"Jane", I'll command, "I need an outfit for Saturday night.  It's date night."

To which Jane will respond, "How about pajamas accessorized with Ben & Jerry's like all your other date nights?"

"No, Jane, I really think it's going to happen this week.  We're actually going to go out.  On a real date.  I can feel it in my gut."

"Is this the same gut that told you to buy the bateau neck sailor's shirt last week?  The one that made you look more whale than sailor?  I wouldn't listen to that gut."

"There was a hurricane warning in effect, Jane.  I was just being practical.  Can we focus  on  Saturday night?  I'm thinking dressy casual, but not like I tried too hard.  Look Jane.  I pinned this on Pinterest.  This could work, right?"

"If you hadn't also pinned 20 pounds to your ass, maybe."

"Jane, that's unkind."

"What?  It's not like I pinned 20 pounds to your ass, Darling."

You know what?  On second thought, maybe I'll just keep winging it.  Who needs the scrutiny.

Chicken out