Hey, life? Are you kidding me?

I Got A LOT Better at Screwing Last Week & I'm not Joking!

This is a 2-fold, 2 issue whatever you want to call blog today because I was a slacker last week. But hey, both are important, so here goes!

Topic 1
I Got Better at Screwing Last Week

Why are your minds always in the gutter when you visit my blog? Okay, okay, I admit maybe I lead you there just a tad, but honestly do you think I would blog about IMPROVING in sex? That would imply I haven't done it right; and I'm pretty sure - wellllll, never mind - on to the real screwing.

My son wanted a window air conditioning unit in his room, because our house is pretty old and doesn't do a great job circulating the cold. Well, I couldn't really deny him since I have one. So we got one.

Buying it was the easy part. See I didn't install mine; I had a couple of high school kids do it, but they are off having real jobs or something now. Besides if they could do it, my son and I could too, right? Well, my dad strongly implied we would NOT be able.... So that just made me completely determined.

I remember last year they had to go get a drill, so I borrowed a drill - actually I'm pretty sure it was the mother of all drills - a de walt or something like that. Keep in mind neither of us have used a drill or for that matter many tools at all.

I had to get a couple of bit thingies for them. One to put holes in the window frame and one to screw the screws in. Well, the first night I figured the guy must have sold me the wrong size because those holes were not matching up (mind gutter alert).

So the next morning, I saw a small independently owned hardware store on my way to Lowes (which is pretty much in my world as much hell as going to the zoo and Wal-Mart in the same day). I carry the drill in. The guy by the register is reading the paper.

The positive person I pretend to be, I smile and say hello.

His response: I'm reading the paper.

I wasn't sure how to respond to that since it was an obvious statement.So I just stuck with "Great". And waited.

He looks over his paper, "Do you need help?"

"Yes, please" (still minding my manners) "I need help finding the right size bit things to go in this." (I'm kind of proud, I'm holding this monster drill. - he didn't seem that impressed.)

"Stay here, I'll go get them."

I admit to be a hater of hardware stores, there is some pretty cool stuff in there. While I waited I got some of that white velcro strips you can stick pictures up on the wall with, a floatie for the pool, some sandpaper - life essentials, you know?

He comes back with these tiny things. I'm thinking maybe he missed my drill. "I'm sure you know what you are doing, but those look way too small."

"They'll fit." He grumbles ringing up my purchases.

I secretly put a curse on him to have all the pvc pipe fall off the shelf as he walks by it. I'm sorry, but he should be nice. Okay, I'm not sorry - well, sorry that I didn't have time to stick around to see if it came true.

I happened to be delivering some things to my friend, Larry G. He's a pretty handy guy - well, I mean I think he has tools. Anyway, he shows me how to adjust the size of the bit holder thing. So easy - could no one show me this?

Now we are about to put in the window unit. Supplies - check instructions - check mountain dew - check. I start the drill just to make sure I got this thing, my 17 year old son jumped about 2 feet. Obviously, I will be the designated driller.

I get it put together; he puts it in the window (it's kinda heavy).

These were my instructions to him: Go outside and hold the air conditioner so it doesn't fall out while I get it put in. That is all you have to do. Hold the air conditioner the whole time.

So he goes out and holds it. I'm ready to drill the first hole. Now my hands are shaking a little - either from nervousness or the mountain dew. So I take my other hand up to steady the drill. Makes sense, right?

"Holy Mother of Drills and Berries!" I know that makes no sense but that's what I screamed as I dropped this drill that was having my skin for lunch. Lesson 1: Don't steady the thing by holding on to parts that spin while operating. I didn't cry though - really, I didn't.

I get the holes in the window in the right places after a couple of well-intention-ed efforts. I told my son, I had to change the bit thing.

I'm changing the bit, and I feel someone tap me on my shoulder. It's my son.

"Why are you not holding the air conditioner!"

At his age it is pretty amazing that he can still pull off the innocent look, but he kinda does. "I thought we were taking a break. It's hot out there." But he begins his sloth-like movements back outside with only a stare of impending doom from me.

I got this screw ready. And I start screwing, drilling whatever you call it. Well, it falls. Surprisingly, I find it -- my son's room is a scary place. I pick it up and Son of a Turkey Leg! It is burning hot. The really stupid thing is, I couldn't figure out what was happening for a few seconds so I continued to hold it as hell's demons blistered my skin.

But we got it in and it is awesome. I want my own drill now! What could there be more to learn -- don't touch the spinny parts or hot screws. Now that I'm writing this I realize gloves might not have been a bad idea. I'll have to get me some of those.

Topic 2
I'm NOT Joking!

I hope you are still with me, because I'm struggling with this one. My best friend left me a text challenge this morning. Actually, he's on WDC now - you should check his writing out Chivalry_lives .

The challenge was to make up a joke. Sometimes, some people think I'm funny so this shouldn't be that hard, right?

WRONG!

I got nothin'. Therefore, I must not be funny - sigh. I mean if people say things I might be able to have a witty comeback or my mind does apparently work in somewhat humorous ways - or either people mean 'funny' like crazy not like ha ha.

I tried "Why did the chicken cross the road", but for one I felt like a 1st grader and two I don't give a crap why he's crossing the road. Someone must have not built a very secure hen house (is that what it's called?), but I say if he's crossing the road he/she is fair game; so shoot it and let's have dinner. (wait, 'he' would be a rooster. . . .that doesn't even make sense - why are there tons more chickens than roosters. Why don't we have Rooster McNuggets? What happens to all the guy chickens? Are they killed at birth? Are they in an internment camp in California? Holy Hat! Where have all the roosters gone???)

I'm sorry, Bruce. . . I'm just not a joker. . . or a stoker . . . or a real life toker. I don't even know what a stoker is :(

To clarify today's blog: I'm not a joker, but I am an excellent screwer - even if I get hurt I just keep going until the job is done!

Oh, that gives me an idea for tomorrow's blog!

Love,
Audra the Tool Expert