drugs, fires, and pants

Today I read that Ambien, the sleeping pill, uh, 'sleep aid,' makes some people sleepwalk, talk, or shoplift, thus potentially ending a perfectly good Navy intelligence career. For this I will consider revising my statement on prescription drugs: if you see a prescription medication advertised on tv, it might not kill you, but it could get you in trouble with the law.

Onward to fires. This afternoon I was talking with a friend who mentioned that if you live in a fire-prone area, you not only have to worry about being sensitive to wildfire smoke, but you also have to worry about fire retardant being sprayed on the sides of the roads, or worse, on your house. So despite my whining about laundry fumes, I think I'm glad I live in town.

In other news, I picked up a pair of promising looking hiking pants at the annual Southern Arizona HEAL give-away/swap-meet, where we trade safe stuff we don't use anymore. I didn't bother trying the pants on until I got them home and washed them twice (safe is safe, right?), and I was astonished to learn that they made me look dumpy.

At the risk of sounding smug, making me look dumpy is a fairly impressive feat. I discovered shortly that the problem was the design of the pants: I was expected to have an hourglass (or pear?) figure. What I learned here is that you can undumpify pants by sewing down the hip flaps.