I'm in Tahoe again, and I have become the Queen of Electrical Outlets. Seriously, this shit is easy. Once you've pinched yourself with needle-nose pliars a couple of times, hard enough to draw blood and cry at the kitchen counter (think of this like those "poise" classes a young princess must endure), you start to get it. You graduate to a debutante, playfully manipulating the wires and ultimately electrifying certain walls. Soon after, once you have done so many outlets that you can remain calm and collected in the face of stuck screws, tight spaces, and having to crawl under the bed with the dust bunnies and the spiders, you become Queen of Electrical Outlets. I have asended to my rightful place.