RANDOM THOUGHTS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS

Friday, August 28, 2009

Bathtub Blunder














I taught my cat Shelby how to drink from the tub faucet. She jumps in the tub and waits for me to turn on the faucet, and when she's done, she jumps out. The whole process takes about five minutes.

Shelby had a little "accident" outside of her litter box today, so I had to clean the plastic litter mat that is right outside of her box. It's a plastic grid tray, and to clean it, I have to fill up the tub with a little water and soak it.

Well, I left it to soak, and forgot about it. Poor Shelby jumped in the tub as she usually does. I heard a noise, and then I saw a shaken Shelby, limping with very wet feet. Oh, the poor thing! I have never seen a cat look embarrassed, but I swear that is how she looked. I wiped her feet off and apologized profusely, and she did what she usually does in great times of stress: she fell asleep.

I cleaned out the tub, and in a few minutes I'll show her that it's okay. I hope she's not too traumatized.

Thursday, August 27, 2009

Success!

Guess what? The dishwashing liquid totally worked! Remember that next time you have a grease stain. Or Lestoil. Or Pine Sol.

Voiceover--Do-over!

I just saw a preview of a piece that was coming up on my daily morning new show. They announced, "What to do with leftover frozen embryos, coming up." The unfortunate thing was that during the voiceover, they showed a family cooking in the kitchen. Ewww.

False Advertising


"Does your shirt stink? Wanna make something of it? Come to this dry cleaner, and get it cleaned!"

This picture is supposed to advertise a clean shirt, but to me it looks like a stinky shirt. P.U.!

Grease Monkey

Yesterday I walked past a bicycle, just as the wind knocked it down. Trying to be helpful, I picked it up and righted it, and went on my way. When I got home, I noticed that I had bicycle grease on my pants, grrrr! I looked up "removing bicycle grease" on Google, and soaked my pants with dishwashing soap overnight. I'll wash them today to see if the grease came out. They were old pants anyway.

Strawberry Tooth

The other day I got a strawberry that looked like a tooth. I think it needs a filling.

Visit from Venezuela

About 11 years ago we had a family at my school from Venezuela. They were here for one year; Vicky, the little girl, was four years old at the end of the year when they moved back.

A few months ago, we got an email from Vicky, saying that she didn't know if we remembered her, but she was 15 now and was coming to visit Boston and wanted to see us (my boss Rosie and me). Of course we remembered her! She was a quiet girl with a big smile, and her mom made us a cassette tape of Venezuelan songs when they left.

The other day Rosie and I met Vicky and her family at our school. They had had two more kids since we had seen them, so we got to meet Julio, 10, and Beatriz, 8. When Vicky hugged me, it was a real hug, tight, and not quick and perfunctory. The younger kids got hugs too, and I wasn't sure if it was their Latin culture or the culture of our school that made it so natural. It didn't matter.

Whenever we get visitors from long ago, it seems as though time stands still. Suddenly, we were back in 1998. I went over to our music cabinet and in about 3 seconds put my hands on the Venezuelan tape and passed it around. We got out the photo album and found Vicky right away. She and her mom sang bits of some songs they remembered, and we all sat down for a pizza lunch.

The conversation turned to their hometown of Caracas, and they mentioned how dangerous it was. They told me that you couldn't ever take the subway or walk down the street, because you might get shot or kidnapped. Vicky's mom told me about something called "Express kidnapping", and Vicky explained what it was. She said that someone would get kidnapped in the morning, the kidnappers would demand ransom from the family, the family would get them the money in a few hours, and by nighttime, the kidnapped person would be returned. Express kidnapping. I remarked about how sad it was that a 15 year old girl was telling me this, that she knew things like this happened. The younger kids nodded, because they knew it too.

It seems that Boston, while a dreamland compared to Caracas, wasn't the safest place either, at the end of their stay. Vicky's dad told a story about how they were trying to sell their car before they moved. They had a sign in the window advertising $500 for the sale of their clunker.

One day the dad got lost driving in a sketchy neighborhood and was stopped in the middle of the street by a man with a gun. He demanded the car, but said that he would pay for it. The dad was, of course, shocked and scared, and told the guy if he had the money, he could have the car. The guy gave him the money, and the transaction was complete. Rosie asked, "How did you get home?" and he replied, "Crying."

Despite sad stories of violence, we had a great lunch and a wonderful visit with Vicky and her family. We learned that the trip was a present for Vicky's 15th birthday that she requested, with our school listed as an important stop among their travels. I told a friend about the visit, and he remarked, "Your school is like a friend factory." It is. And a family factory too. We are a family, and visits like these only reinforce the feeling. I work at a very special place.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Half My Paycheck

I just came back from a weekend away, and I went up the block to CVS to get some milk. Saw some yogurt while I was there, and figured that might be a good thing to have in the morning.

At the register, the yogurt didn't scan, so the cashier asked me to go over to the scan machine and tell me what price it gave. I scanned the yogurt, and came up with $999.99. I told the young pimply faced man behind the counter, "It says nine hundred ninety-nine dollars and ninety-nine cents. Man, that's expensive yogurt!" He didn't really laugh, just smiled, and looked frustrated. He asked me how much yogurt usually cost, so I took a guess and paid $1.39. Was I close?

Friday, August 14, 2009

Smells Like Trouble

Yesterday I saw a guy come out of the ATM. He had his money fanned out in front of his face for all to see, and he smelled it as he was walking by me. He made sure I saw and heard. He had a sort of menacing look on his face. Ewww, creepy.