Yes, I love technology

Of all the inventions over the last... millennium... I cannot even fathom my life without the discovery of the internet.
Some people fear that all that info at your fingertips may be iatrogenic for society (absolute power corrupts?), due to "racy pictures", or what have you. (FYI- I learned the word "Iatrogenic" in a psychology class many years ago. It basically means in a medical field that the treatment did more harm than good, and that the status quo would have been better off without it)...
But I don't care.
Over the last week, my life has been infinitely improved by the world-wide web.
Recently I've been on this vintage kick. I've made a new vintage-inspired dress, I've been listening to the best of Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, and Elle Fitzgerald. And last Sunday I got the idea to try out some vintage hairstyles. So, I saddled up to my friendly little laptop, typed in some words, and VOILA!... Hundreds of how-to hairstyle videos. SO FUN!
Then, I decide that for the first time in my life, I want to try wearing "REAL" make-up... not just the liner and mascara I buy at the check-out stand at the grocery store. So I get foundation and bronzer, and some eye shadow... and one of those crazy eyelash curler things... Anyway, saddle up again and type a few more words, and PRESTO! I'm almost a pro...
But the most recent web-investigation I will be eternally grateful for. For my brother's wedding last year, I bought the most splendid blouse from Arden B to wear. Yes, I splurged on it. But it was worth it. It looked AMAZING! Well, a few months ago, I wore it an got honestly WHO KNOWS WHAT on it. Something maybe chocolate or blood... No Clue. So I take it to a dry cleaner (it's rayon) and they cannot save my shirt. I actually almost shed a tear thinking about having to be rid of my shirt. But before I could say Adeu, I had to give it one last shot. So I rolled up my proverbial sleeves and saddled up one more time. I swear I didn't do as much research on any of my college papers as I did trying to figure out how to get this stain out of a rayon blouse. I tried a concoction of things that still didn't work. And then I stumbled upon one site that said that it might be a "dye stain", and that I'd have to treat it with bleach. I was so nervous. It said to try a little bleach on an inside seam and see if it altered the color. If it didn't, the garment was color-fast (or whatever. I can't remember anymore), and that it was safe to use on the stain. Well HALLE-FREAKIN'-LUJA, I was able to rub some bleach on the stain and after a few minutes of setting, the stain was gone!! I literally danced around my apartment for a good 10 minutes celebrating the resurrection of a most prized blouse.
Thank you, thank you, Technology.

A perpl-EGGS-ing Conundrum

Saturday morning I woke up feeling a little more vibrant than having just my normal couple bowls of cereal for breakfast.

I decided I was going to scramble some eggs.

(Now I am begging for anyone to add any insight whatsoever to the following situation...)

I grab the egg carton out of my midget-size fridge. Open it up and crack the first egg. Looks delicious. Can't wait to cook it.

Grab the second egg and crack it. I crack it. Crack Crack CRACK it. Um. It won't crack. ? I had to peel the shell off. The egg was entirely frozen.

Has anyone in their entire life seen a frozen egg?

So not only did the perplexity of the frozen egg confound me, but then I thought: What's wrong with that one? Why did only that ONE freeze, and not the egg EXACTLY next to it freeze too?

It's not like they were in different fridges or even different cartons.

Is my wussy little half-pint fridge SO non-conducive that it can't even keep eggs decently?

Here's an arial view for your viewing pleasure:

And yes, I did eat it. I didn't care. I'm poor. I figured (hoped) that just the trans-morphing of the egg's property of matter wouldn't compromise the nutritive integrity of it...