Odds

Let's do some math.
It's Friday night.  We're all exhausted.  The best thing to do in this situation? Math.  It's almost a no-brainer.

Roll with me here...

Let's say that someone (who shall remain somewhat anonymous until later in the post) is giving away three (3) shiny red beautiful Kitchen Aid mixers on her blog.  (We'll address my issues with constantly entering these draws later.)  Let's say also, that nearly fifty thousand (50,000) other people enter the same contest.

Now, technically (this is where the math comes in) since there are three (3) chances to win, my odds are one (1) in... oh, say sixteen thousand (16,000).  Give or take six hundredish (600ish).  These are rapidly improving odds, my friend!  We've taken the pool down from an entire football stadium to well, a third of that.  Let's say it's the lower section, where they have real seats and fresh popcorn and a good strong sense of which player isn't wearing enough deodorant.  Those people don't even really want a mixer anyway.  Especially not a red one.

So the odds are now 1:16,000.

See how that's not better?

Len's theory is that my odds are 50/50.  I warm to this theory quickly, urging him to explain.

"You either win or you don't," he shrugs.

Then, his classic finale: "Where would you put that thing anyway?"

I really believed that his theory regarding the finite storage space in our home would only apply to the items in the kitchen section that I admire and whisper sweet nothings to and occasionally weep over.  I believed this theory was meant as a deterrent to spending money rather than an actual crisis over space. Apparently it actually applies to anything I hope to bring into the house.  Red and shiny or not.

There is a chance I'm obsessed.  I'm trying really hard to justify it as simply wanting to say I actually won something.  Part of me is convinced that I only want a good reason to email P-Dub without coming across as stalkerish.  (Partial draft of email: Dear P-Dub, If I came to Oklahoma, would you make me my own skillet of buttered rosemary rolls? Please?)

50/50.
You win.
Or you don't.

And the 'Or you don'ts' have it.
The Orange Sweetness didn't really want Big Red to move in anyway.