That is cold. ;^)

Here goes. Last weekend I spied something at the pawn shop that tickled my fancy. (Note: Keep in mind that my "fancy" is easily tickled.) I bought something really cool for my wife. The occasion was our 22nd anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my sweet girl. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sixed Tazer gun with a clip. For those of you who are not familiar with this product, it it a less-than-lethal stun gun with two metal prongs designed to incapacitate an assailant with a shock of high-voltage, low amperage electricity while you flee to safety. The effects are suppose to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, but allowing you adeqate time to retreat to safety. You simply jab the prongs into your 250 lb tattooed assailant, push the button, and it will render him a slobbering, goggle-eyed, muscle-twitching, whimpering, pencil-neck geek. If you've never seen one of these things in action, then you're truly missing out- way too cool! Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home. I loaded two AAA batteries in the dam thing and pushed the button..... Nothing! I was so disappointed. Upon reading the directions (we don't need no stinkin' directions), I found much to my chagrin that this particular model would not create an arc between the prongs. How disappointing !! I do love a little fire for effect. I learned that if I pushed the button, however, and pressed it against a metal surface that I'd get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs that I was so looking forward to. I did so! Awesome!!! Sparks, a blue arc of electricity, and a loud pop!!! Yipeeee... I'm easily amused, just for your information, but I have yet to explain to my wife whatt he burn spot is on the face of her microwave. Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn't be all that bad with only two AAA batteries, etc. etc. There I sat in my recliner, my dog looking on intently (trusting little soul), reading the directions (that would be me, not the dog) and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh and blood target. I must admit I thought about zapping the dog for a fraction of a second and thought better of it. She is such a sweet pup, after all. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger. I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong? Was I wrong to think that? Seemed reasonable to me at the time. So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, tazer in the other. The directions said that: A one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; A two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a loss of bodily control; A three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water... All the while I'm looking at this LITTLE device (measuring about 5 inches long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference, pretty cute really and loaded with two itsy bitsy AAA batteries) thinking to myself, "no friggin' way!" Friggin' way -- trust me, but I'm getting ahead of myself. What happened next is almost beyond description, but I'll do my best. I was sitting there alone, the dog looking on with her head cocked to one side as to say, "don't do it buddy," reasoning that a one-second burst from such a tiny lil' ole thing couldn't hurt all that bad.. (sound, rational thinking under the circumstances, wouldn't you agree?) I decided to give myself a one-second burst just for the hell of it. (Note: You know, a bad decision is like hindsight - always 20/20. It is so obvious that it was a bad decision after the fact, even though it seemed so right at the time. (Don't ya hate that?) I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and HOLY ****** !!!!! I'm pretty sure that Jessie Ventura ran in through the front door, picked me up out of that recliner, then body slammed me on the carpet over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, soaking wet, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position. The dog was standing over me making sounds I had never heard before, licking my face, undoubtedly thinking to herself, "do it again, do it again!" NOTE: If you ever feel compelled to mug yourself with a tazer, one note of caution.... There is no such thing as a one-second burst when you zap yourself! You're not going to let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by violent thrashing about on the floor. Then if you're lucky, you won't jam one of the prongs 1/2 inch deep in your thigh like yours truly. SON-OF-A-BISQUIT- EATER that hurt! A minute or so later (I can't be sure, as time was a relative thing at this point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. How did they get there?? My triceps, right thigh and both titties were still twitching... and I swear I smelled burning flesh and hair.. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, as my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs give or take an ounce or two, I'm pretty sure. By the way has anyone seen my testicles? I think they rolled away. I'm offering a reward. They're round rather large. Miss'em.... sure would like to get'em back. It's good to know that the wife will be safe from stupid assailants..... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sounds like you're doing too much at once. Take it one room at a time. You're jumping from one thing to another, to another, to another. Whenever I buy something I don't like (or think I don't like), I live with it for a week. If after that time I still hate it, then I go on to Plan B, which for me is either finding a way to make it work, or convince DH that it needs to be returned. After living with it for a few days, I usually wind up keeping the item b/c it never is as bad as my first reaction. I have SW Blonde in one of the bedrooms and I really like it. I think we are going to use the same color for our basement. Another similar color is SW Restrained Gold. If you like slate in the bathroom then go for it. We have a slate-looking porcelain floor in the master bath and I love it. We stayed at a resort this summer where the whole bathtub wall was slate. It was a very rustic look. I know how you feel with wanting to redecorate and get everything done. We've lived in our house 8 1/2 years and have not done anything to the kitchen except paint. I so want to change out the countertops and backsplash and DH doesn't want to b/c he doesn't think there's anything wrong with them. Most men don't understand the redecorating bug. Since I have never done anything to the kitchen, it's just not "me". So take a deep breath and relax. Stop doubting yourself.

gardengirl, From what I understand hair color can be affected/change because of some thyroid/hormone problems. It can also be affected by some medicines and even vitamins. Usually premature greying is the problem; but if his "problem" was fixed, it may resort back to the old color. Wikepdia says "Grey hair may temporarily darken after inflammatory processes,..." (not sure what that means, but it sounds like an autoimmune problem to me). From your further description it does sound like he's probably lying to you, though. I dated a guy for a while who would lie, sometimes for no real reason. He was perfect in most ways: gorgeous, smart, successful, etc..but he would lie as a hobby. I just couldn't trust him. I thought, you know, he'll probably never cheat on me, but I will always think he may be and I just can't live everyday like that. I prefer being married to my husband who I can totally trust and never question even if he comes home late smelling like perfume. I would probably just assume he was accidentally sprayed at the mall. I don't know why people lie, especially when there is no good reason. So what if he wants to try some Grecian Formula. Maybe it's a control thing or he just doesn't want anyone to know him fully. I'm not really sure from your post, though, do you think his main problem is compulsive lying for no real reason, or do you really think he is having an affair (and just lying to cover it up)? Those are two distinct problems that would probably be handled differently. Personally, I would still like to see what his reaction is if you tell him his hair color may be medical condition and that he should talk to a doctor. I know if I woke up one morning with a different color like that, I'd at least have a call in to my Dr.'s office. Wouldn't you? Call him on it and see what his reaction is.