Jump on this new networking opportunity

One of the norms here in Meanwhile Manor is that toilet paper and Q-tips and tissues just seem to get replaced when they are empty or running low. We are believers in the Toilet Paper Fairy, as identified here in this Pickles comic:


So there is part of the back story to today's post. The other facet of the back story is that The T and I have been totally sucked into the black hole that is Facebook. We are currently having a good time and yet trying to figure out how to carve out time in our day where Facebook fits in. But I digress. To summarize thus far: we believe in the TP Fairy and we joined F'Book.

What follows is what you would have overheard had you been listening in this morning.

The T: Supplies are running low. It seems the the TP Fairy is slacking off.

Me: Distracted. Maybe the fairy is distracted.

T: By Facebook? The fairy is spending too much time on Facebook?

Me: TushBook. It seems more appropriate that the TP Fairy would be distracted by TushBook.

For the record, that is one social network I would not browse.

Simple suds

The T and I are simple folk at heart. We have few needs and don't ask for much. For instance, neither of us can understand why some shampoos cost $10 or more for a 12-ounce bottle. What gives? The ingredients look the same to me. Well, we finally found a brand we really like about five years ago. It's inexpensive and our hair doesn't react to it after a week of use and go all insta-oily immediately aftering toweling off following a shower.

So far, our only complaint with this shampoo is that the marketing department seems to think that the bottle must change every eight weeks or so to keep the product fresh and in the face of the wandering consumer. For us, faithful customers that we are, this constant label tweaking means we have to hunt for the bottle every time we need to restock. There is this brief moment of panic when I think the brand has disappeared and then—poink!—there it is, plain as day in a new outfit. A heavy sigh usually ensues.

But the last trip to the ol' suds aisle has me dismayed. Not only was it hard to find the shampoo but once I did I noticed that the shelf space allotted to this brand seems to be shrinking. The UPC tags of the other brands are encroaching. I fear we will have to find a new brand. Oh, poop.

So I brought home a couple of constestants. If you'd been listening in, this might be what you heard:

Me: So what did you think of shampoo X?

The T: I thought it smelled a little like dead fish when you put it on your head.

Me: Hmm. Smelled like bubble gum or watermelon to me. This goes a long way toward explaining the differences in our ... (pause) ... food choices, I think.

If you'd been listening in

Our weekend morning routine has a decidedly techie aspect. As I come out of that blissful halfway point between dreaming and full wakefulness—you know that state of consciousness where the sounds in the room don't quite jive with the dream you're having and you struggle with trying to reconcile the two—I begin most mornings by grabbing the iPhone and checking the weather. I expect no excitement from the updates. I just want verification that, indeed, Meanwhile Manor is a sieve and the temperature outside the covers is probably not very different from the temperature outside the walls.

The T came to as I was going virtual and the morning inter-romp followed the following path: check the headlines, change apps to check the weather, scan the radar map, change to the Maps app and search for Nevada City, California, search for Alamosa, Colorado, search for Area 51. In other words: random map perusal. This is our idea of a good time.

Comment of the morning: Hmm, shouldn't that be Roswell Intergalactic Air Center?