You know all those Toyotas being recalled? All those gazillions of them? Yeah, well, I own one. No, I lease one. We leased it December 31, 2009, about 9:00 PM. Meaning, we were the last customer at Autoway Toyota not just for the entire year, but . . . hold the applause . . . for the entire decade. How hair-brained can you get??

I no sooner drove the car home and sat down to eat a snack after the exhausting and hunger inducing transaction than I read in the newspaper (I generally like the newspaper for company when I eat) that Such and Such Toyotas were having a little problema. Namely, that the accelerator sticks . . . sometimes. Groovy, can I return my car and get my money back now? This is just pure KEM bad luck or whatever you want to call it. I lease a car and 10 minutes later I'm reading that I might get behind the wheel of that baby and never stop, just fly on down the highway forevermore.

Accelerating things are not, ahem, my thing. In Old Amsterdam I got on an ANCIENT elevator, the first one ever created, FOR SURE, in an ANCIENT tall hotel. Amsterdam is plainly an ANCIENT city. Naughty, too. Some older ladies in the group were with me and we were only trying to get to our floor in the hotel. But, honest to goodness, that elevator started accelerating, gradually at first, but picking up speed ferociously. I could feel it, I could hear it, I could see us blasting out the roof of the hotel. We would be in the papers the next morning. As always in a crisis, I voiced our doom. One grumpy old lady looked madder than a hatter, because I think she was terrified, too. Well, falling into stitches is what I do best, so I broke into hysterics of laughter. Which made grumpy lady, oh, so ultra grumpy.

Old things are not my thing either, such as machinery. As a little girl in Michigan we'd go to this ANCIENT amusement park on Lake Michigan. Silver Beach. The old rickety roller coaster terrified me because of its age, not because of some magnificent thrill factor based on the actual ride. I knew perfectly well that the thing was going to do a nosedive while I was aboard. And I'm talking about the roller track, crash-bang-boom. Same thing at Wildwood, NJ, boardwalk. There was a water coaster and I stood and watched people who held no value for their lives creep up that steep coaster that was just bound to collapse any second now. Then I would jump in the next car. Honestly, is the whole world totally senseless?

Well, I read all about the floor mats and the faulty parts and what have you. And what to do should the unforgivable happen to you. Listen up, now, you don't pump the brakes, horrors no, you slam the brake pedal down once and for all and shift the car into neutral. All the while catching up on your prayer life. Then I guess you neatly maneuver to the accident lane with the idea of avoiding ten thousand collisions. Sounds like a blast. Mike thinks I'm a big dork because I'm not going to drive my car fast on the Interstate until I am invited back to Toyota to repair this mess.

Well, really, after our smart car purchase, we were on our way to Val-Toad's New Year Eve's party. But trying to pick the right color for the car was just draining, thus having to stop home to eat, oh yeah, and make salad to take to the party, which was totally pointless at this late hour, Please, have some salad with your Key Lime pie. That surprised me, not being able to pick out a color, because when I picked out a car 7 years ago I simply said within 2 seconds of walking on the lot, I'll take that one, and pointed elegantly. At the time I had been running all over town and beyond trying to find bathroom tile for a redo. It amused me that I could pick out an automobile in 5 minutes flat when it had taken me 50+ hours to track down the right tile. But find tile I did. Way over in Sarasota, and it's made by Villoroy and Baush (or whatever that fine china is). It's a neat feeling to have dishes on your shower walls, sort of.

Oh yes, so we did get to Val's finally . . . barely before the stroke of midnight. We were going to watch the ball drop but somehow the station was playing a crazy man who was going to hurtle his car over a bridge that had the middle taken out, you know, just to see if he could whiz on over to the other side without dropping into the ocean below. Watching some crazy man take his life in his own hands was not my idea of ringing in the New Year. I really didn't want to see this little experiment fail. Oh my, it was the biggest deal, and all but KEM were fastened to the TV set. KEM wandered into the kitchen where Val-Toad, a famous cook, had a plate of the best little meringue puffs you ever put into your mouth. The insane dare devil was making me such a wreck that I started popping meringue puffs into my mouth, pop, pop, pop, they go down easy, all the while glancing furtively toward the TV. The build up and suspense was more than I could take. The next thing I know, Where did all the puffs go? It was called nervous eating. Hope no one else wanted any.

Okay, I wasn't going to blog tonight, not really, but that was my exciting New Year's Eve, all in a meringue puff. My little lady I help gave me Benadryl, because it helps you sleep. I kept forgetting to try it, but last night I popped the little pink pill. It's marvelous to help you sleep and I became drowsy instantly and slept and slept and felt so much better today. Yahoo! I might try it again tonight. Besides, remember the Target pharmacist told me not to buy the name brand sleeping tablets but just to buy cheap old store brand version of Benadryl, which I didn't. I didn't buy anything.

I keep ending my paragraphs abruptly. It's kinda fun.

My hair is carrot colored. I told the lady at Fantastic Sams that I didn't want it too red. So she opted for orange instead. Honestly, do you have to spell out EVERYTHING?? Then I told her, NO OLD LADY POOF on the sides. I said, I don't mind a little height on top, but the sides must be sleek. So she went right ahead and combed all my hair back on top, like I had just emerged from a 1970's or 50's beauty parlor, Poof City. Yet she herself had height on her short hair, but modern and edgy, combed straight over to the side, longish . . . really cute. I was disgusted, let me tell you. The second I walked outta there I smashed my hair forward and flat with my hands. This lady was German and she should know better.

Get a load of this. Right after my hair appointment I went directly to my neighborhood where I grew up. We were visiting with neighbors and darling children. This is a neighborhood that never loses that old-timey friendly feel. It has sidewalks and everything, love it, love it, love it. People actually USE their neighborhood Well, this girl I hadn't seen in years walked over and another neighbor had just told me that this girl bought a Fantastic Sams. So, big mouth here says, HELLO??, you own a FS and I just got my hair done at one for the very first time ever, like one hour ago. She said, Did you like it? I said, Of course! Well, I DO like the actual haircut. Next time I will say, BROWN HAIR, forget any trace of red, (see, I was thinking a smidge of red brightens the complexion and all). And I will say, Get edgy, Girl, and poof is outer than out. Now, the real test comes tomorrow when I wash this mess. Then I will know if the hair cut works.

Everyone have a SUPER weekend, ha, ha. Go Tony Dungy's old team.

This was a very far-out blog.

Carroty, meringue popping KEM