Got Milk?

Hey Y'all,

It's been awhile since I've blogged. Had a nasty cold for about five days, and I'm just now feeling like myself again. I'll be back to blogging in the coming week. Until then, here's a pic to enjoy!

WHOOPS!

I just made a $450.00 mistake. Instead of writing a check in as $450.00, I wrote it in as $12.00. I was wondering why I had so much money in my account. Oh well, I'm independently wealthy, so it actually doesn't make a difference to me. NOT!

"Uh, excuse me, Therapist? Yeah, it's me, Alex. Um, could you do me a favor, and not deposit that check I wrote to you yesterday? Yeah, thanks. I should be okay in a week or so. Thanks. Yeah, I'll see you next week. Yep. Okay, bye."

Thank goodness I just bought that huge box of Special K. I'll be eating it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the rest of the month. And knock off that pesky 5 lbs. while I'm at it!

Dental Dilemma

I got a letter in the mail saying that my dentist had moved back to Israel. I am really bummed out. I've been with this dentist for at least ten years. He knows me. He knows my mouth. He knows my teeth. He knows the one tooth that has given me problems since I had a bad dental experience when I was a kid.

Dr. Tencer (aka Dr. T) has seen me through bleached blond shaved hair, an eyebrow ring, and long locks. He wasn't shy about giving me his opinion on my changing style (he liked the natural look, no piercing), and didn't take crap when I'd breeze in a half hour late. One time I came in late for my appointment, and he was putting on his leather jacket. I asked him where he was going. He said, "I'm going to lunch. You're late!" After that, the ladies behind the desk and I set up a system. They always scheduled my appointments fifteen minutes later than the time they told me. They told me to write 10:15 in my book when my appointment was really at 10:30, so I wouldn't be late. It worked. I was never late again.

I have this one tooth that has always given me problems. Dr. T talked about a root canal for years, but he wanted to wait until it was absolutely necessary. As long as I wasn't in pain, he'd leave it. He replaced the filling twice, I had gum surgery, we worked very carefully to keep it clean. I started flossing, My cleanings are a breeze now. My tooth is safe.

Will this new doctor keep my tooth safe? Will he take care of me the way Dr. T did? Will he hide the giant injector behind his back and try to make a joke so he can sneak it in? I'm gonna miss Dr. T. Guess I'll give the new guy, Dr. Pezzolesi (Dr. P?) a try. The consultation's free, anyway.

Sleepy's Update

Awhile back I was musing on the subject of the Sleepy's logo man. I wondered why he used to have a mustache and why he suddenly doesn't (see pics).



I wrote to Sleepy's to inquire, but didn't get an answer. Yesterday I was walking in my neighborhood and passed a Sleepy's store I had forgotten was there. I went into the empty store and asked the manager. He told me that the owner of Sleepy's changed the logo because so many people said the logo man looked like Hitler (just like my friend Diana had figured). The owner is Jewish, so he wouldn't have purposely made Mr. Sleepy look like Hitler, but I guess a lot of people complained. So, there it is. Mystery solved. Whew.

Ode to a Death Certificate

I almost went postal in the post office yesterday.

You would not believe what I had to go through to get my dad's second batch of death certificates. "What?" you ask. "Second batch?" Let me explain:

When my dad died, I knew he was going to be cremated. Who knows about where to find a cremation place when one's remaining parent dies? Not me. I looked in the phone book. I chose the funeral home that I did because the funeral director's voice was kind.

One of the questions they ask when making funeral or cremation arrangements is, "How many death certificates would you like?" How many? I don't know, how many does one need? I ordered three. Who knows? I don't know from death certificates.

I make the other arrangements, and then I talk to some people. Turns out one should order far more death certificates than I did, because you need one for every account that was held. One to close the checking account, one to close the savings account, one for the phone company, one for the electric company, one for this IRA, one for that IRA, one for the life insurance, one to open an estate account, one to close the Visa account...you get the picture. I call back the funeral director and order seventeen more death certificates, to make a nice even twenty.

Well, apparently if you don't order them all at once it takes longer. The funeral director tells me that it will take eight weeks for the second batch to arrive. Fine. She even calls me to ask where they should be sent. I calculate when I will receive them (August 21st), and request that they be sent to my house. She says she'll send them on to me when she receives them.

August 21st comes and goes and no death certificates. I call the funeral director. She reminds me that she said it would take a long time. I remind her that eight weeks have gone by. She says she has to deal with the city now and find out what's going on. I am very aware that this is not my fault.

I call the city myself, and they tell me that the death certificates had to be altered as a result of the autopsy report (the original three said cause of death unknown, and the new ones would now say cardiovascular disease), and that they had been ready since July 31st. I find out that I can't order death certificates myself; they have to be sent to the original source; in this case, the funeral director. She and I go back and forth on the phone.

On September 27th, thirteen weeks after I request them, the death certificates come in the mail. They arrive via registered mail, so I have to go to the post office to pick them up. I finally have them in my hands. It's emotional.

I get home, open the envelope, and read over the altered certificates. I cannot believe my eyes when I see that they got my dad's date of birth wrong. I start crying. They had it right in the first batch, and now it's not even off by a digit, it's off by a few days. I figure for insurance purposes they're going to want to correct date. They also got his education wrong (an Associate's degree instead of a Bachelor's), but I'm not going to fight that. I'm so exhausted from this process. Who knew it would be so nerve wracking?

I call the funeral director and try to keep it together. I tell her that I can't take this anymore, she has to make a phone call, because I'm losing my mind over this. She immediately makes a call and arranges to have the certificates sent directly to me, which they usually don't do.

Yesterday I got a notice that a registered envelope was waiting for me at the post office. I could pick it up after 5:00; the post office closed at 7:00. I go at 6:00, which is a lot after 5:00, and the guy behind the counter tells me that the envelope is still on the truck and the driver isn't back yet. I breathe. I breathe. I very nearly lose it. I tell the man that it's not really that great to have such specific directions if a package isn't going to be where they say it's going to be. I realize it's out of my hands for the moment, and try to calm down. The guy tells me to come back tomorrow, and I tell him that I don't want the same thing to happen. He assures me it won't. I hold it together.

Today I go to get the envelope, fifteen weeks from when I request it. It's there. I open it at home. It's correct. They send sixteen instead of the seventeen I paid for ($15 for each). I notice that, but at this point, I don't care. I can move on. I will move on. Now I know from death certificates.

A New Taste Sensation!

Yesterday I was at a cafe with some friends. We walked into the place, and one of the first things we noticed were these mondo muffins. We knew we wanted to try them.

Turns out they're a creation called donutmuffins, which is a combination of, can you guess, a donut and a muffin. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined such a perfect combination.

They came hot off the grill (?!?) with a side o'butter. The consistancy was exactly like what you would imagine a donut and muffin put together would be like. The outside was encrusted with a cinnamon/sugar mix, and the whole thing was so delicious I had another one today. I plan to walk 38 miles tomorrow to burn off my sins of the weekend.

JT Obsession

I'm on a Justin Timberlake fix right now, ever since my friend Courtney gave me his lastest CD and we saw his concert on HBO. He's a smooth dude, for sure, and his songs are so dance-able and sway-y. And that falsetto! Oooh!

He can get a tad corny with the lyrics, such as,
"You cheated girl, my heart bleeded girl..."

But he makes up for it by sounding like he's got a Baptist church choir backing him up. Save me, Jesus!


(note to Prince: this in no way reflects any loss of love for you, my dear Purple One)

Much Better

Had a much better English lesson with the two boys today. I brought Boggle, and we got to shaking that container first thing. We played three rounds, then played three rounds of the card game Crazy Eights. At the very end, the girl wanted to put together her 100 piece Hello Kitty puzzle. I told them we had five minutes to do it, and we zipped along and got it done in four.

Great energy, great lesson.

Productive Day

I had the morning off today, and I made the most of my time. Here's what I did today:

8:30 am--Went to Starbucks with a friend. Egg & sausage sandwich, tea.

9:00 am--Walked off my sandwich instead of taking the T. Went to post office and mailed a photo that I had promised to a friend 3 years ago. Got a mail order for a print I've wanted for a year.

Walked to the hardware store and bought a lamp that I've wanted for only a week.

Back home. Vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen. Ate lunch.

2:30--Walked to Coolidge Corner. Dropped off pants to get a new snap. While waiting for snap, went to frame store and chose a frame for a painting I've had for almost a year.

3:00 pm--Picked up pants and went to get allergy shots.

4:30--Taught English. While talking to kids, drank fresh apple cider and ate fresh pumpkin pie supplied by the mom (the family had just gone apple picking).

5:30--Left the English lesson with a dinner packed for me by the mom: Mexican food, Japanese style. White rice, topped with chili, lettuce, cheese, and salsa. Yummy!

7:30--Blogged, finishing just in time for tea, dessert, and The Biggest Loser.

A wonderful, productive day!

Close Your Curtains

Look! A Peeping Tom!

Okay, so it's not a tom turkey, I don't think.
There's a family of turkeys in my neighborhood.
They usually travel around in a pack, with two females and about thirteen chicks. There's also
a male somewhere who likes to hang out near
the Dunkin' Donuts, I've heard. He likes to
direct traffic.

I was surprised to see this turkey by herself, but I figured that maybe she was scoping for a new location to move the fam.

After I took my shot and kept walking, I saw a blind man walking down the block with his seeing eye dog. I warned him that there was a turkey about five houses down, so in case his dog went crazy, he'd know why. He politely declined my offer to help him cross the street. I wished him luck and went on my way. I do love this little town.

It Gets Better

...and then I get cards like this one, from one of my eleven year old Japanese students:

Dear Alex,

Thanks a lot for helping my English. I think I am better in English because of you. If I wasn't met with you, maybe I'm still very shy that I don't have friend except for Japanese.

This girl is moving back to Japan in a few weeks, and I'm so sad. I've been with her one year, and she went from being such a shy girl who would not talk at all to a girl who reads Harry Potter out loud with different character voices and gestures. She was making such strides, and is so much fun to talk to.

I told her to practice English when she got back to Japan, because she has a gift. Then her mom tells me that I have a gift as a teacher, and of course I started crying, and she started crying, and then we took goofy pictures and I promised to visit them in Japan.

Teaching is so rewarding, even when it's challenging. I love it.

The Long Walk to English

This is the hallway that I walk down to teach English to two (sometimes three) kids. Every time I see this hallway I want to call out, "Dead man walking!" or I feel like I'm in a funhouse.

When I arrive, there are two boys, aged eight and eleven, and a girl, aged five. The girl is always happy and excited. The boys are less than thrilled. I have never experienced such a lackluster response when I enter a house, but these boys are so shy and seemingly not interested, I wonder what I can do to get them excited. I can usually get them involved when I bring a game, but it's like pulling teeth.

Today the eight year old simply walked away, and I talked to the eleven year old. I asked him what was wrong, and he told me that he was tired because he played soccer.

Me (in Japanese) What's wrong?

Him (in English) Tired.

Me: Why?

Him: Soccer.


I asked him if he liked English lessons, and he looked up a word in his electronic dictionary and showed me: ordinary, common. The eight year old said so-so. I can't tell if they really don't like it or if they're too cool for English lessons. It's not like I sit there and drill them. We play games! The thought just occurred to me that maybe they don't like starting with homework. I like to see what they're doing in school. Oh well.

Finally I brought out my game and told their mom that I would play with the five year old, and when I did, the other two got interested. We had a good time, but then when it came time to say goodbye, not a word out of them. It's puzzling, but I'll keep trying.

Dilemma

Both Kid Nation and America's Top Model are having their series premieres tonight at the same time and I don't have TiVo!!!

English Makes No Sense

I teach English conversation to Japanese kids and adults. Last week I was with an eleven year old girl, discussing the difference between "desert" and "dessert". We went through the pronunciation: DEsert...deSSERT. We did it a few times for fun, and all was well.

A few minutes later I was reading a book to her, and came across the following sentence:
"Don't desert me!" Sounds like the treat, spelled like the hot place! English can be so frustrating...

Cool Chair

There's this upholstery shop up the block from my house, and they put newly done chairs in the window about once a week. Saw this one yesterday. I love it! Reminds me of my tattoos.

And Now For Dessert

Lest you think all I do is eat fresh bananas and cauliflower, I give you...the Double Decker Oatmeal Creme Pie, courtesy of Little Debbie. Have you ever seen something so deliciously sinful, for only 50 cents?

Backstory: When I was growing up in Brooklyn, I used to eat all sorts of snack cakes. One of my favorites was the oatmeal creme pie, by Drake's. When I moved to Boston, I discovered they didn't have Drake's, but Little Debbie is the closest I'll get. I started getting oatmeal creme pies just for old time's sake, and then I started eating them on a semi-regular basis. And then I started noticing that I could pinch an inch around my midsection.

I went to a nutritionist, and told her that I needed to eat something sweet every day, so give me some choices. She told me to keep my sweets to 100 calories. A regular Little Debbie Oatmeal Creme Pie is about 300 calories. Guess how much a Double Decker is? A whopping 470!!! I make sure I can still enjoy it by cutting it up into fourths and eating only one of those fourths. Only 117 calories!

I'm off to eat organic fruit for breakfast before it goes bad, unlike my Little Debbie's. They never go bad.

Eating Right...for now

Remember awhile back when I was complaining about organic food? My friend Mike noted that it might not be an organic problem, but a locally grown problem. Fruits and veggies may be organic, but by the time they are flown from wherever and then sit on the shelf, their days are numbered. Better to buy local, and they'll last longer. Visits to our weekly farmers' market are good. One other issue for me is that my fridge is teeny tiny, a little larger than a college dorm cube type. I do my best.

I'm going to do very well for the next three weeks, as it turns out. My across-the-hall neighbors are on vacation, and they get organic food , mostly local, delivered to their place once a week. They're not here, so guess who gets to enjoy the goodies?

Got the box today, and I felt like Tiny Tim in A Christmas Carol when Scrooge turns kind. God bless us, everyone! In the box were:

apples
bananas
basil
red peppers
cantaloupe
cauliflower
celery
nectarines
pears
plums
potatoes

I split the box with our upstairs neighbor, and I got a phone call. My friends wanted to go out to dinner. Say what? Go out to dinner, when I'm just gettin' ready to try the new recipes enclosed in the "Good For You" box?

Yeah, I went. We had gourmet pizza. Hey, a girl can't change her eating habits overnight. I did eat 1/4 of the cantaloupe.

Another Great Idea!

I was just shopping at Trader Joe's, thinking, "I live by myself, I don't need six onions in a bag or two quarts of grape tomatoes", and suddenly I had an epiphany: Make a new section at the supermarket called Single Aisle. That's where you find food packaged in small containers, enough for one, perhaps two if you get lucky. Your food wouldn't go bad after non-use, and who knows, you just might meet that special someone shopping in the same aisle!

Sugar Shock!

Oh my god, I did it again. What is it about me and spilling sugar? And the funny thing is, I was on my way to get a healthy snack. I was going to pull down my container of almonds when my hand flicked the sugar bowl spoon, sending the sugar bowl cascading down, spilling sugar mostly all over the (thank goodness) empty dish drainer. It hit the floor too, making that terrible crunching sound I detest. I emptied the kitchen and cleaned it up. Made me want to throw everything in my house away. All the surfaces are constantly cluttered!

I was so frustrated by my spill that I forgot about the almonds and ate a Little Debbie's snack cake instead. More on that in a new post...

Whodunnit?

So Gerry and Kate McCann are going home to England, after being named as suspects in the disappearance of their 4 year old daughter, Madeleine. This story has gotten huge press since day one. Celebrities have given millions of dollars to the cause. Supposedly, this couple left Madeleine, along with her twin siblings, alone in a hotel across the street from where they were eating dinner. They went frequently to check on them. They've stayed in Portugal to find her, till now.

Now they want to go home. To what? Hire a lawyer? Get out of the public eye all of a sudden?

Here's the thing: police found traces of Madeleine's blood in the couple's car. My first thought was, "So what? The kid had a nosebleed/scrape and got blood on the car. Doesn't mean her parents murdered her." But I guess it was found months after her disappearance. But can that mean that the police just overlooked it the first time? Are they being framed? Or did the parents do something to her?

Usually in cases like this, I think the father did it. It's always the father. But for some reason, I don't think they did it. I mean, they have gone through a lot to publicize this case. If they did do it, my god, are they working hard to cover their tracks. So who did it? What happened? I don't know, this is a tough one. Looks like another JonBenet Ramsey, unfortunately.

Mayberry

I grew up in NYC. I am a city girl, through and through. I live in a town right next to Boston now, a town that I have nicknamed "Mayberry". Remember The Andy Griffith Show? That's the town they lived in. I call Brookline "Mayberry" because I see someone I know at least once a day, and many times I see a few people I know, especially if I'm walking past the playground. It's just a nice neighborly place to be.

The town really earned it's nickname this evening. At 4:00 today I was at the playground with one of my kids. We went back to my house, had a snack, her mom picked her up, etc. At 6:45 I went to look for something in my backpack (i.e. my life), and it wasn't in my house.

I retraced my steps and went to the playground, and there it was, nearly 3 hours later, still sitting at the bench where I had left it. Everything was still there. That's Mayberry for you.

I remember once I was in a movie theater in NYC, and when the movie was over, I walked out. I got to the last row of seats before the exit door, and I suddenly remembered that I had left my windbreaker on my seat. When I went back to get it, it was gone.

I just got off the phone with a friend who told me that her son's bicycle helmet and pair of Crocs was stolen from that same park where my backpack was. Okay, guess I was just lucky today. But another friend told me she left her baby Bjorn there overnight and it was still there. So I'm lucky and I live in a nice town.

Important Business

Readers, let me give you some advice. Today, tomorrow, at some point in the next month, sit down with your parents and have "the talk". I'm talking about the death talk, people. It is very very important. Find out if they have a will. Find out who will be responsible for taking care of things when your last living parent dies. Even if you are not the one responsible, make sure you know where the important information is. You never know if you will have to do something.

My most important piece of advice when your last parent dies is: Order a lot of death certificates, at least 20. They're not cheap, something like $15 each, but you'll need a lot for different accounts. Every company that you contact to tell them your parent has passed wants a copy of the death certificate.

Be prepared to get the runaround. This is not something you will want to deal with at such a delicate time, but it will probably happen. I'm dealing with small little details that can drive a person insane. Closed one bank account, only to find out it was automatically re-opened because my dad had set up an automatic payment at the end of every month. I didn't know where that payment was coming from, so his bank gave me the number of the bank they thought was involved. I called that bank, only to find out that it was from an IRA account. Now I have to call that place.

If you know all the accounts of your parent, perhaps it will be easier. Who is this organized, though? Not many people. In any case, the more you know, the better. I knew one piece of information, but I'm learning so much more. What a process. I'm going to make an envelope called, "What To Do When I Die". It will have all the numbers of people to call, or email addresses. All accounts, who gets the cat, etc. Only problem is, if I ever get my house broken into, it will be a thief's dream come true. Gotta think about that.

Thanks for reading. I needed to vent.

What's the Address?

I'm looking for number 40; Is this it?

Updates

Updates on a couple of my previous posts: (See? Aren't updates a good idea for anything?)

Music you can play to: I thought of two more songs I love to play string instruments to: Funkytown (Won't you take me to...Funkytooowwwn?) and Britney Spears' "Toxic".

On Sleepy's: Most people I've talked to think that the Sleepy's man shaved his mustache because with it, he looked too much like Hitler. Or maybe the creator of the character died, and they were finally able to make him look more like Joe Consumer and less like Joe Evil.

I wrote an email to the Sleepy's company and asked why Mr. Sleepy had shaved. I am awaiting a reply.

Seen on TV

Readers, be warned: When school starts next week, I won't be blogging as often. It's just that I've had the whole month of August off, and I've spent many hours of it in front of the tube. You won't believe what I just saw.

Eyelash implants! Tired of buying false eyelashes? Eyelash glue irritating your eyes? Want thicker, fuller eyelashes for only $6,000? With this surgery, they take hairs from the back of your head and implant them in your eyelids. They grow, so you have to trim them once in awhile. Years ago, this procedure was only sought by trauma patients, but now anyone can get it done!

I will say it right here, I am vain, I admit it. I am very satisfied with my looks, and I guess I should count myself lucky. I don't pluck my eyebrows, I don't get anything waxed, I don't go to tanning booths. Please commit me the day I say I want hairs from the back of my head to be implanted into my eyelids!!! I prefer to beautify myself by spending hundreds of dollars on tattoos.

Day Spa

Want a pedicure, massage, hair style, ear piercing, and fun conversation for just $20?

Go to a nail salon where the owners have two little girls, aged 6 and 8! I love my nail salon, because I get to hang out with Kelly and Elizabeth, who are very girly and love to show off their jewelry and ask me questions about my tattoos. Today I went in and got to talk to them while I was getting my pedicure. As I was waiting for my toes to dry, we looked through magazines and the younger one, Elizabeth, "did my hair". She clipped her plastic earrings to my ears. It pinched a little, and when I said something, the older one, Kelly, told me to say, "Hawaii...Hawaii..." That was supposed to relax me and make me not think about the ear piercing pain. We chanted "Hawaii" for awhile, then looked at more magazines.

With all the chanting and getting my hair played with, I was quite relaxed by the time my toes were dry. I felt like taking a nap. The girls walked me out the door, and we chanted all the way to the corner. I told them, "Goodbye iiiii..."

All that, and sparkly nails too!

Organic Schmanic

Listen, I know you're supposed to buy organic. I know it's better for you not to eat pesticides and growth hormones and you're supposed to go to the Farmer's Market and Whole Foods and be all crunchy granola and healthy.

But you know what? That stuff doesn't last! God forbid you should decide to eat a healthy organic salad two days in a row and then decide to go out for two days because you are a popular single gal. God forbid, because you might go back to your organic salad fixin's and find that your grape tomatoes are liquid mush and your organic baby spinach leaves are brown and squishy. It's so disgusting, it makes me not want to buy organic sometimes.

(insert maniacal laughter here)

Ah bwaa haaa haha ha...look what I had for a
snack yesterday, hahahahahaha!!!

Take THAT, all you health nuts!

(by the way, I did buy nonfat yogurt and string
cheese at Trader Joe's today; I'm not that unhealthy).

On My Walk

There's a bush for sale in my neighborhood:

We're getting desperate, people.

The Ideas Just Keep Comin'

I was just lying in bed thinking about Montecore, when I had this amazing idea. What? You don't know who Montecore is? Duh, he's the white tiger who either nearly killed or saved Roy Horn, of Sigfried and Roy, a few years back. I say nearly killed or saved, depending on how you view the incident.

Anyway, I was wondering how both Montecore and Roy were doing, and then I thought of this great idea, that is sure to be a hit with the networks. It's a show called Update, and it gives you all the updates from the hottest news stories of the past. Whatever happened to Montecore and Roy? How's that girl doing who was abducted and kept prisoner for eight years in Europe? (insert story you would like an update about here). It would start with a clip of the original story, and then an update. People could write in about stories they would like to hear about. I think an hour long show would be good. Not for nothing, but isn't that a good idea for a show?

If anyone who reads this has any connections, let me know, and we'll share the profits. And if this show comes out soon without any connections, you saw it here first.

Unbelievable TV

It's Saturday. I'm watching TV. You will not believe what is on.

I'm watching this show about designer shoes. There's this fitness class at Crunch to show you how to work core muscles so that you can walk in heels better, because of course you should still wear heels, even though they wreak havoc on your feet. And at the foot doctor, they can inject the balls of your feet with little pillows so it won't hurt as much when you're walking in your Manolos, using the same stuff women inject their lips with to get fuller lips. Oh my god.

And then there was a commercial for the Clear Blue pregnancy test. I am not kidding when I say this was the tag line: "The most advanced technology you will ever pee on." And they show a stream flowing on the stick. I am not kidding. I'm still in shock.

Turn on the TV for the most mindless entertainment there is. I can feel my brain cells shrinking...

Sleepy's

Has anyone else noticed that the Sleepy's man has shaved his mustache? I kept pointing this out to people, and they said they didn't even know he had a mustache. Finally, I have proof:
















He had the mustache for so long, why the change now? Thoughts, anyone?

Dream House

I was just watching the HGTV channel (Home and Garden TV), and the show that was on was called "Dream House." It was the story of an engaged couple who wanted to build their dream house on a big hill. I turned it on in the middle, so I didn't get all the details, but I got a few. They took out a loan for $415,000 to build the house. Of course it took longer than they thought; they had to keep pushing the open house party later and later.

When the dream kitchen was being completed, they found out that they had spent all their loan money, so they couldn't afford appliances. They took out another loan for $85,000. I don't know how many bedrooms this place was, but it was enormous. It was somewhere in the south, I think, so you could get a huge house for half a mil.

They got it all done except for the basement, they had a huge open house party, and they celebrated the beginning of their new lives together. This show took you from bare bones to completed house, with all the nitty gritty, emotions, and problems that come with building a house. It took one year to complete. Happy ending at the open house party, right? Wrong.

The next shot was the couple putting a For Sale sign in the front yard. I thought, "You have got to be kidding me!" After one month, the couple realized that they couldn't afford to live in the house because the mortgage payments would be $3,500 a month. They didn't want all of their money to go just to house payments.

And they had not thought of this before????

The daughter said that she should have listened to her dad more, but she and her fiance just wanted and wanted and wanted. If I was her dad, I would have walked away in the beginning. They wanted to sell the place for a million dollars. Pretty expensive and time consuming flip, if you ask me. The final quote was from the contractor, who said, "The lesson from this project should be to just keep moving forward, don't look back."

OH MY GOD.

I wanted to jump into the TV and push the contractor aside and say, "Actually, the real lesson here is DON'T BE GREEDY and live within your means and 2 people don't need that much space!!!" This is what's wrong with our society. I am disgusted. I'm going to have a yard sale tomorrow and get rid of what little excess I have.

Post #200!!!

Woo hoo, I'm on post number two hundred. Man, I got a lot to say! I'll use this post to tell a little story of something that happened to me in my kitchen earlier this summer.

I was pouring sugar from my big jar into the sugar bowl, and some of it spilled on the kitchen counter and the floor. Sugar mess is yucky; wet and crunchy at the same time. All I could think of was the ants that would come marching one by one...I finally got it cleaned up and was late for work.

Later on that day, I was getting the garbage ready to take out. I was dumping some uneaten spaghetti into a bag, and, lo and behold, half of it didn't make it into the bag and spilled all over the counter and floor. Oh my god, two nasty spills in one day, I couldn't believe it. I was so upset and frustrated...you guessed it, I ran and got my camera to capture the moment. I haven't had a major spill since then, fingers crossed!

Popeye's Got Nothin' On Me!

I am so strong. I pushed this fire hydrant into
the ground, just because I could. Don't worry; I pulled it back up again so the fire department
would have access. It pays to eat your spinach.

Exercise, anyone?

A few weeks ago my friends and I went to dinner. When we got off the subway, this is the staircase we encountered. The up escalator to the right was being repaired. Going up the stairs, I thought to myself, "I really ought to quit smoking." Thing is, I don't smoke, I just felt like I did. Little outta breath. Good exercise if you can get it. I haven't been back to that subway station all summer.

Also Seen in NY

New ad campaign for Secret deodorant.
I think it's pretty good.

Seen in NY

On a "Post No Bills" wall.
I used to have a crush on Anderson too, but he's been replaced by Keith Morrison, of Dateline fame. The strange robotic intonation of Keith Morrison's voice sends chills up my spine. How I wish he could record my voicemail message!
"Alex is not home right now...or is she? You might say she's...unavailable." My good friend Courtney once compared Keith to Skeletor, and said that if you put a flashlight to the back of his head you'd be able to see right through his translucent skin. Say what you want, Courtney,
but if there's a mystery to be reported on, I want to hear Keith talk about it. Really...

Collection Contest

There's this contest going on blogs, and this is my entry. While I collect many things, I have chosen my cat whisker collection as my favorite one because it is the most unique (even more unique than my dead insect collection).

A few years ago, I didn't even know that cats lost their whiskers, but one day I found one, and I've been collecting them ever since. I have short ones, long ones, black and white. Once you know what to look for, it's pretty easy to spot them. They're all over! I think they're cool because you can see that the part that sticks in the cat's face is pretty strong, and then it just gets more delicate towards the end.

One day perhaps I'll do something with my collection, but for now I keep them in a plastic baggie. Enjoy!

Roughin' It

I've heard of living out of your car, but this is ridiculous.

Violin at the Ready

I listen to music all day long, usually as I'm walking around with my iPod. I really have to check myself, though, because I love to move my hands when I listen to music. I punctuate a beat or specific sound with my pinky (high note) or my whole arm (drum beat). It's less awkward to do these movements when I'm at home, by myself.

There are two songs, however, that I can't help but move to when I listen to them, no matter where I am. "You Sexy Thing" by Hot Chocolate, and "Levon" by Elton John have really good string instruments in them, and I can't stop myself from picking up my invisible violin or cello whenever I hear those songs. Try it; "I believe in mIRacles (zzz zzz zzz, mime violin), where ya from, you sexy thing..."

During Prince ballads I sometimes close my eyes and sway my head back and forth. I don't do that while crossing the street, trust me.

Rock Lobster!

It's been a music-filled weekend. Went to yet another midnite sing-a-long (more on that in another post), and last night I went to a B-52's concert. Now, I'm not a huge B-52's fan; Hiro had tickets and asked me if I wanted to go. I knew at least 3 songs (Rock Lobster, Loveshack, Roam), so I figured, "Why not?"

The show was in this tiny theater of sorts that looked like a circus tent. It was great, because all the seats were good. The opening band was called Betty, and they hailed from NYC. They were funny and cool. As for the B-52's, well...let's just say there's nothing quite like hearing "Rock Lobster" live. Awesome. I also heard a song that I hadn't known, but apparently is quite popular among fans, "Planet Claire." Ever hear it? That was cool live too.

My favorite performer was Fred Schneider. His voice is is so unique, and he's got the moves! It was a great time. And hey, I think I might download "Planet Claire" to my iPod.

Testing Pics

Right now I'm trying to figure out how to post pics with my new iMac program. If you're reading this, it worked. Here are pics of my new system vs. my old system. What a difference!

Btw, I found out yesterday that the "Mac rumors" were true, and they came out with new versions of Macs. That means that I could have gotten the computer I have now with that DVD more memory thing. Whatever, I'll do all that next time. No regrets (well, maybe like a little tiny bit of regret, but not much).

Correction: This is not a pic of my new system vs. my old system. It's a picture of NYC's finest, near 34th Street. Scary!!!

I couldn't find my newest pictures. I figured out how to get to my "rolls", at least, which is more than I could do the other day. I'll keep playing, and figure it all out eventually.

Reality Rocks!

Decisions, decisions...

Tonight on TV I have to choose between the season premire of Fat March, a reality show where 12 overweight people walk from Boston to Washington D.C., and the season finale of Hell's Kitchen, a reality show where chefs are vying for a chance to be a chef at their own restaurant.

Looks like I'll be switching back and forth, yee ha!!! I am a reality show JUNKIE!!!

Here's a Quiz

You've just gone pee, and you haven't flushed the toilet yet. You're taking out your contacts, and the top of the contact lens case slips out of your hand and falls into the toilet. What do you do?

a) As Jerry Seinfeld would, you flush the toilet and immediately go to CVS to buy a new case.

b) Without thinking, you immediately stick your hand in the toilet and grab the cap that you've had for five years, reminding yourself that urine is sterile. You wash it off with soap and very hot water and think, "What's the worst that can happen?"

c) Tell no one of this incident.

d) Blog about it soon after it happens.

I'll be curious to see how people answer this quiz. It's...just something I made up, you know, it's not like it really happened or anything. Like one of those "worst case scenarios" party games or something.

Ooh, one of my contacts just got a little blurry. Gotta go.

Got my iMac!

Got my new iMac, and I love it! When I went to the store with my friend Hiro, I listened to the guy explain everything, and I was soooo overwhelmed. First we looked at the computer I had said I wanted all along, and then at the laptops. A 13 inch screen? That looked small to me, and I had wanted a desktop anyway, so I again said no thanks to the laptop. I started to get a headache, so we went to my house and I popped two Advil and thought.

Went back and told the guy I wanted the 17 inch desktop; the 20 inch was too big. I thought I was so good, having made a decision, but lo and behold, Mr. Apple had me standing there for 15 minutes while he told me the choices I had for memory, DVD capability, etc. I started feeling overwhelmed again. I told him I wanted to do email, write papers, do photos, that's it. I wanted the basic model. I wanted to do it at my desk and enjoy the outdoors as the outdoors. I lived up to my zodiac sign, the bull. Fine. Got the computer, got my teacher discount, got a free iPod Nano (pink), and got outta there.

Hiro was very excited to set up all my stuff for me, and I was only too happy to let him. He showed me all this stuff I could do, including slideshows. I can put music to slideshows, it's so cool! Then he explained about how it was really cool to burn slideshows and give them as gifts. Yeah! Only one problem. The model I got couldn't do that feature.

In about two seconds I realized how cool it would have been to:

a) get the model with more memory
b) get a laptop

Oops. Next time. For now, I'm going to enjoy the things my old computer couldn't do, and bask in the space I have on my desk now that I have a trim and slim monitor...

Oh, and now I wanted to upload pictures to show my new compuer vs. my old computer, and I tried to do it and it didn't work, and I am very very frustrated. Breathe, Alex, whew. I'll wait till Hiro comes home from work.

Overload

I live in a studio apartment, i.e., one room. I used to have this little table that I got at Crate & Barrel about 10 years ago, and I was so excited because it was from Crate & Barrel and it was cherry and it was grown-up furniture and it had 4 chairs to go with it and I was so proud.

I had that dang table in 5 apartments and in and out of one storage unit, and I started getting bored with it. It had a burn ring from a candle on it, and one of the leaves on the table was a little wobbly, and it had a few knicks after so many years. That and the fact that for the past 3 years I haven't been able to use all 4 chairs 'cause they wouldn't fit in this apartment because it's a studio. So 2 of the chairs have been in the basement for 3 years and now they're all damp and sort of moldy.

I wanted to get a new table, a bigger one so I'd be able to do work on it instead of at my low coffee table, which is where I do everything. I bend over and it hurts my back. I put the table on Craigslist and got 15 offers on it the first day. Sold it for 40 bucks the next day.

So I went to Ikea and got this great table that came with 4 chairs. It looks like something Goldilocks and the Three Bears would use (not at the same time, of course, because Goldilocks went and pulled a breaking and entering, and well, you know the rest). I bought these cushions to go on the chairs, and it's so cute and I love it and...

and what did I think I was going to do, have dinner parties? I got this big old table, and you know what I do with it? Put all my crap from the day on it, and now it looks like this:

At least my coffee table is clean so I can put my feet up while I'm watching TV.

The Return of the Folding Chair

So apparently folding chairs

are not only found at bus stops,

but at your local park, too.

They are quite handy, actually.

Good Deed for the Day

I just helped French tourists. I was putting my trash out for trash day, and there was an older couple standing at my corner with about 5 suitcases of various sizes. They asked me where Beacon Street was, and of course my first response was to panic (in my head, of course). You see, I inherited my mother's panic response whenever I am asked: directions, to introduce someone, or which is left and which is right. All rational thought or sense of direction goes out the window when I am in the aforementioned situations.

In any case, I was able to tell the tourists that Beacon Street was kind of far to drag all their bags, and they'd be better off taking a cab. I called a cab and waited with them. It was 9:00 pm, which was 3 am their time. Found out they were born in Paris (ooh!), but now lived in the South of France (ooh again!). The wife gave me a bag of candy from their area.

I told them I had just seen the new Michael Moore movie about healthcare, and that it seemed like France had great healthcare and I wanted to move there. The husband did all the talking. He said it was still free for the most part, but sometimes they had to pay if they could afford it. This was not their first time in America. They had been to America in 1976, for the bicentennial, woo hoo! They had also been to Cuba. World travelers, these two.

When the cab came, I bid them adieu. I wanted to tell them good luck, and the first phrase that came out of my mouth was, "Bon Marche!" ( the name of a restaurant I used to frequent). I asked the husband if that meant good luck, and he told me it meant cheap food. Oh well. The wife said I should say, "Bon voyage." Duh. I said "Bon voyage" and "Au revoir", and they were off. Hope they got to where they wanted okay.

I love helping foreigners who are lost, because I know the feeling of being somewhere unfamiliar and having someone be nice to you. It's a good feeling.

Does Not Compute

I'm going to buy a new computer. I want a desktop, which is what I've always had. Makes sense to me; the computer goes on the desk. You go to the desk, do your work, and be done with it. Then you go outside and sit on the porch to listen to the birds and read. Go to the park and see your friends and play with children. Go to Starbucks and...drink something! and watch the people.

More than three people have "advised" me to get a laptop instead. "You'll have the option", they say. Option to what? Work outside and not socialize? Tie up a table at Starbucks for hours so the people who come in simply for a cup of coffee and can't sit down?

I will think about it, before the new Mac comes out (oh yes, I'm doing the big switch from a Dell to a Mac, and that's another topic of controversy, I know). I'm not there yet, to the laptop. I want to do my work and enjoy the outdoors, keyboard free.

Make me an arguement for a laptop, I dare ya.

NYC photo fun

Saw these two gals walking down the street in NYC.

What a sight! See how one is wearing the denim on top

and the other is wearing it on the bottom, and the same

with the black, but opposite, so it makes a checker effect?

And the hair, and right down to the shoes, it was just

viusally stunning!

Prince Sing-a-Long

Went to the Prince Sing-a-Long; Diana and I were first in line. The videos were off the hizzook!

First was the contest. The host talked about the hit song, "When Doves Cry." The contest was for each of us to make a sound like a dove crying as it was dying. We weren't supposed to sound like Prince, he emphasized. We were supposed to sound like doves crying. I thought mine was pretty good. It sounded something like, "Coo coo, coo coo, egh!" The guy who won was the last to go, and at the end he threw himself on the stage. Pretty impressive. The prize was a bottle of Gatorade Rain water (Purple Rain), which was spiked with vodka.

Props for the videos included peanuts, which we were to throw during Let's Go Crazy. "Let's go crazy...let's get NUTS!", purple streamers during Purple Rain, and party horns during Cream's, "You've got the horn so why don't you blow it..."

Two hours later I was spent, and at the same time I could have danced all night. Made friends with the host in the parking lot, and got a Princely shot of him. He looked pretty shot, don't you think? Next up: The Pop-Rap Crunk Sing-a-Long in a few weeks!

Potterpalooza...the Day After

It's 8:23 am. I feel like I've been hit by a train going to Hogwart's. I will admit, today, that age definately has an effect on how late one stays up at night. Midnight at 39 is not the same as midnight at 19, that's for damn sure.

I got to the line at 5:30 last night, and I was second, right behind a 6 foot tall Harry Potter look-a-like. He was very friendly, introduced himself as Ari, and was surrounded by about eight of his friends. They were all 8th graders. The joint was jumpin' at the front of the line, and for a long time, that's all it was; the 8th graders and me. Ari had gotten there at 4:00, I got there at 5:30, a friend of Ari's was 3rd in line, and a woman named Robin was 4th, and she got there around 6:30. After that, a big group of friends got in line, and that's when the line really got underway.

After talking to Ari for a little while, we discovered that he attended my school for a summer, and I had actually been one of his teachers! I remembered him, but the 4 year-old Ari I knew was quiet and kept to himself; he was not the personable, self-assured young man giving interviews at the front of the line. It was amazing to see how this kid had blossomed over the years.

At 8:30, there were 150 people in line, and by the time 9:00 rolled around, the line went all the way down the block, around the corner, and down that block too. I was happy to have my place. When we went in at 9:00 to get our numbers, it turned out that they had reserved the first four places for the winners of the character look-a-like contest, so Ari was actually number 5, and I was number 6. No matter; we were in the top 10. Ari was sure to win the contest anyway.

9:00--got our numbers, and we were released for a break until 11:30. What the hell was I going to do for 2 1/2 hours? Well, for one thing, I was having an asthma attack from all the excitement, so I hopped in a cab, went home, got my inhaler, and went back. I wandered around Coolidge Corner in a daze, completely overwhelmed by the crowds. I had never seen so many people in that area at once in all the years I've lived here. Went to the contest, where Ari was the crowd favorite, and was disappointed when he didn't win. We demanded a recount. They awarded prizes to all the little kids. Oh well.

Back in line at 11:30, and the excitement was palpable. The bookstore employees announced ten more minutes, five, and the big 10 second countdown at the end. I got my book, screamed, waved it around, and hopped in a cab to go home. Read the first chapter and went to bed. I'll be reading it until my next event...the Prince Midnight Sing-a-Long...tonight!

Potterpalooza

My local independent bookstore is having an event called "Potterpalooza" to celebrate the last book in the Harry Potter series, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. The book will be sold at midnight tonight. At 9:00 pm, people will get a number that will be your place in line when the selling line starts at 11:00 pm. I'm worried about the line for the 9:00 time, so I want to go to the store now and line up. It's 5:15.

I called the store to ask if I should bring a chair, and the guy on the phone laughed at me. He said there were some teenagers in line already, and just don't bring a big lounge chair. I told him I have many years experience waiting in lines, so I'm prepared.

Water bottle? Check.
Camera? Check.
Buddy who will bring me dinner? Check.
Jacket for when it gets cold later? Check.
Chair? Check.

All set. I'll let you know what happens.

Stormy Weather

Back in January, my storm windows were up and I hadn't noticed until one day it was really cold in my apartment (see Jan. 21st post). I berated myself for not knowing about the storm windows.

Today, July 19, it was hot, so I opened up both of my windows, not just one like I usually do. Figured I'd get a crossbreeze going for the cat while I was at work. Getting ready for bed, I went to close the windows, and I noticed that the window that I don't usually open didn't really feel like it had a breeze flowing through. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the storm window was down. Okay, so, strike two for the fucking storm windows. When they're supposed to be up, they're down, and vice-a versa. I hate storm windows.

BTW, I always close my windows at night, even if it's really hot. I don't want any serial killers coming in. My routine at night is this: As I close my window and prepare to go up to my hot loft bed, I say to myself, "Would you rather be a little hot, or dead?" and the answer is always, "A little hot." Makes sense to me. And no, the air conditioner didn't make it in this summer, and I don't think it will. And no, I don't even have a fan. I don't like fans. I hate the noise they make, and for some reason I have a fear especially of oscillating fans. Never know when that breeze is gonna hit ya.

Call me paranoid with an overactive imagination, but I've woken up alive every day with my system; it works for me.

You Never Know

I was on the Greyhound bus going from NYC to upstate NY, and my seat's right armrest was folded down. I tried pulling it up, but it wouldn't budge. I got frustrated, and the guy behind me helped me out by telling me to pull it out, then up. It worked. "Thanks, I like to have an armrest", I told him.

Perhaps he would have liked to have an armrest too, but it would be of no use to him. See, it just happened that the guy who helped me didn't have a whole arm, only half of one. Oh god, I was so embarassed to notice this. What saved me was that the half of the arm he did have was covered with tattoos, so I asked him if I could look at them. We had a short conversation about tats, and I felt better.

At a NYC Bus Stop

Some kind soul put a folding chair at the bus stop, and one guy actually took advantage of it. People will just have to wait at this bus stop; if you look closely, you'll see the advertisement says, "No Reservations."

If you can't afford Fantastik...

Try the knockoff, Fabulous!

And Then There's This

A six-pack and a bag from Victoria's Secret. Someone had a good time in the parking lot of Trader Joe's.

Can't Even Think of a Title For This One

Can you? Let it be known that this shower
curtain was pure in the package.

Yabba Dabba Doo!

Here's a nightstand that my dad picked up somewhere. Doesn't it look like it should be on The Flintstones?

A New Record

I always look to see when Christmas trees get thrown away, and am amazed at how long some of them hang on. I believe the last Christmas tree I posted was some time around March. Well, believe it or not, I saw one the other day on July 15, a new record for me.

A guy was going back and forth, back and forth from his place, throwing away all manner of things, including a huge roll of bubble wrap and the tree. After a couple of minutes I asked him what was going on. "So, just cleaning up?" I asked. "Something like that." he replied. "Break up?" I said sympathetically. "Yeah", he said. I left him to his business and got the shot.

correction

My cousin Amy (yes, Amy, I said you were my cousin, it sounds rude to say my cousin's wife) wrote to say that it's not true that I don't like the sea, she has pictures to prove it. Okay, there is one thing I like about the sea, and that is taking pictures of the sea or being photographed at the sea. BUT THAT'S IT! Now excuse me while I go eat a muffin...

A Buck A Day

I did this thing where, whenever I had a dollar or two in my wallet at the end of the day, I'd stick it in my giant Hershey's chocolate syrup bank. I was going to open it when there was no more room in the bank and do something special like take a trip around the world, but I decided to open it this morning. It was almost full anyway.

Did it for just a few months, and I had $75 in there! All those singles sure add up. I think the key is to get a giant container that's not see-thru, and you should put it up a little so it's not that easy to get to. Try it! Good luck!

6 weird things about me

My friend Sabine just "tagged" me somehow to post 6 weird/quirky things about myself. Click on "What's New With the Munshis" on the right column to read her blog. I'm not going to tag anyone else, but here are my top 6, since there are many more...

1. I only eat food in small bites. This means I cut everything up into tiny bite-sized pieces, including muffins. For example, first you slice off the top, then cut that into 8 pieces, then you cube up the bottom. Eat the bottom first, because you save the best, the top, for last.

2. Like Sabine, I too only sit in a restaurant facing outwards so I can see what's going on. The only exception to this is that sitting in a booth trumps sitting outwards.

3. I collect cat whiskers and dead bugs.

4. I love to clean lint out of things with a Q-Tip or a toothpick, like the hair from brushes or the vacuum.

5. I dislike the sea; visiting it, eating things from it, or reading about it.

6. I brought in a hairball from my cat to show my preschool kids and passed it off a science lesson.

I'm in Love...

...and his name is Mr. Fluffy.

Now, I know it might seem a tad strange that I would declare my affections for a rooster, but take a look at him. Can you blame me?

Yearnin for an Urn, part deux

We got the ice bucket, ahem, urn, home and cleaned it up with silver polish. It was beautiful! B sawed off the tong holder. The big moment had arrived to put the ashes in the urn. Ashes come in a clear plastic bag inside whatever grade container you get, so all we had to do was put the bag in the bucket. We decided to leave them in the bag because I once heard my dad say that when he died he wanted his ashes and my mom's ashes to be mixed together, which I thought was a very sweet gesture. Even though they separated when I was seven, they were always good friends. When I told my brother about this, his response was, "What about Grandma?" Well, we'd think about that later. For now, we needed to get Dad in his place for the gathering.

K lit some incense a friend had given us, and we turned the TV on to the Opera music channel. Since we are neither religious nor formal, we just awkwardly stood there for a minute, and K said something I don't remember, and B put the bag in the buck...in the urn. We put the urn on the mantel with a rose and some gold leaf.

At the gathering we put up pictures of my dad in chronological order next to the urn, but we didn't make mention of dad's ashes. I figured no one noticed. A couple of days later, I was having lunch with a friend who had been in attendance, and I said in a stage whisper, "You know, my dad's ashes were there the whole time..." and she replied, "You mean in the ice bucket?" Guess it was more noticeable than I thought.

Yearnin for an Urn

Rewind to a couple of weeks ago, when my brother, B, my sister-in-law, K, and I went shopping for an urn to put my dad's ashes in so he would be presentable at the memorial gathering we had for his friends at the apartment.

We have a collection of ashes at my dad's apartment. First, my mom's, which arrived 17 years ago in a golden container that looks like something you'd put flour in in the 1950's. I used to have it in my kitchen, and when my friends asked me what it was, I'd say, "That's my mom." I brought it over to my dad's place when I moved to Japan, because it's illegal to bring ashes overseas. It's been there ever since.

Four years ago my paternal grandmother died, and her ashes came in a kelly green plastic container. Her container went next to my mom's.

It seems with each passing, the containers get a little lower in quality. Poor Dad. His ashes arrived in a white cardboard container that looked eerily similar to a Happy Meal with no advertising. We knew we'd have to get a more suitable container for Dad that would look nice on the mantel and didn't look like it would contain a small plastic toy. We only had one day to shop. We knew we didn't want a typical urn like a vase. We'd all seen the movies where the urn falls and ashes get spilled everywhere. Where could we get a container with a lid? We headed to the first place we thought of: Zabar's, the gourmet kitchen and food store across the street.

The first containers we came across were ice buckets. B and I immediately scoped them out, laughing hysterically about the possibility of Dad's ashes being contained in a bucket with tongs. He was a drinker; wouldn't be a stretch. K looked shocked and at one point it seemed as though she was saying a prayer in Japanese to offset the disrespect we were showing to the dead. Peals of laughter could be heard from me, as I moved over to the section of soup tureens.

We moved around the store, looking at pots, pans, and coffee containers. We found one that was just what we wanted, plain and simple, but it was too small. We decided to leave Zabar's and go to an antique store. On the way we thought of one of my dad's favorite haunts: The Salvation Army. Dad used to get his opera outfits there, as well as dresses for his dates, in case they didn't have suitable clothing for the Met.

K and I walked in and headed directly for the back of the store where the furniture was kept, and there it was--a silver plated container with a lid. It was as if it called to us. It was the only thing of its kind around, and the store was about to close, so we had to make a decision. It didn't have a price tag, so we asked an employee. He came back and told us $7.99. Not bad; Dad would have approved.

We brought it to the front to show B, and were intercepted by another employee, who told us that the man had given us the wrong price, it was actually $14.99. B wasn't sure if it would get clean ( it was a bit tarnished), and besides, it turned out to be an ice bucket. I noticed a small piece of metal sticking out of it, and asked what it was, and B informed me that's where the tongs went. Ha ha!

K and I were convinced this was the way to go, and we pushed for it and won. The woman who had informed us of the new price said she had actually wanted it, but too bad for her, we plunked down our money and the crafty container was ours.

To be continued...

The Log Blog

My friends Jenn and Sidhu really want to be in this blog. They didn't choose the cutest subject to get in on, however. The shit hit the fan, so to speak, and here they are. Hope you're happy, guys. Your big moment has arrived.

They invited me out to dinner with them, to the fast food Indian place. Right as we're getting into the minivan, Sidhu announces that he's just stepped in dog crap. He hates stepping in dog crap, and gripes about it the whole ride over. I asked if he wanted to use my sink, but he said no, he'd just keep scraping along the sidewalk.

On the way over to the restaurant, Jenn entertains the van (me, Sidhu, and their 4 children) with poop stories they've heard from other people. We're all giggling and snorting, these stories are pretty funny, but man, we're about to eat, and some of the Indian food I like happens to resemble, well, I can't even go into it, I need to put a hold on the conversation so we can just enjoy our meal.

Enjoy our meal we do, until two year old Sera takes a major dump in her pants. Seems that she's been toilet training this week, and has been doing really well. With pee. Jenn thought that we were just going in for a second to order our food to take out, so she quickly threw a diaper on Sera...on top of her underwear, which Sera had already had on. Once we got in we decided to sit down and eat, and Sera's undergarments were forgotten about.

Until Jenn can hardly breathe, and she's thinking about what to do. Take her to the van and change her, just head home...we decide to just head home, everyone's done anyway. More poop references, lots of laughs, Sidhu not believing that Jenn put the diaper on over the underwear...

So we get to the van, Sidhu puts Sera in her car seat, and man, it stinks! We're all laughing and waving our arms, and Jenn decides to just change her right then and there. Sidhu takes her out of the seat, and smears toddler poop on the seat. Man! I scream, and we all get up to look. Jenn has Sera in the front seat and announces that this is a much...bigger situation than she had thought. Oh god, disgusting! She calls for backup from Sidhu.

Sidhu takes charge, all the while cursing about how disgusting this is, he can't believe this, etc. I tell him to calm down, he's a surgeon, for goddsakes. "Not a rectal surgeon", Jenn quips. When he starts going on about corn chunks, I say that I'm going to be sick, and we really need to stop now. Maxy said she was going to vomit. Jace, the baby, was amazingly quiet throughout the whole episode.

Quinn, while looking in the front seat, puts his hand in the poop and waves it around. Jenn wipes it off and I quickly administer the Purell like an expert. We need to get home. Now. We finally do, and as I get out, Sidhu says it must be nice to breathe clean air. I breathe in the fumes from the front grill of the van and say that's even fresher than what they're breathing. We all bust up, Sidhu apologizes for being a party...pooper, ha ha, I promise to hang out with them again, in a year or two, and go inside. A few minutes later I get an email from Jenn saying that Sidhu thinks the blog entry can be called The Log Blog. So it is. I've got to stop now. I'm pooped.

Perseverance Pays Off

My brother sanded an entire hallway with his foot. I'm not kidding. Look at the shoe he made. He did it with one shoe. A little at a time, he says. I'm bewildered and awed.

Meanwhile, Back in Mayberry...

I'm back home in Brookline now. My friend Hiro and I went into the AT & T store to see if they had sold out of the new iPhones. We walked in and saw one of Brookline's finest standing near the door. I asked him if he was always there, and he said no. I asked him if he was there for the iPhone, and he nodded. I couldn't help it, I said the first thing that popped into my head: "Fucking A!" Seriously, I should be happy that I live in a town with so little crime that they can dispatch officers to the local AT & T store to deal with a fucking promotion, but I had to shake my head. Two ends of the police spectrum from NYC to Brookline, that's for sure.

NYC's Finest

Yesterday I was walking down the street and I stuck my hand in my purse to find my subway card. I didn't find it immediately, so I wanted to go through my purse. I saw 4 police officers standing in one area, two against a building, and two near the curb. I figured it was safe to go through my purse near police officers. When I was done, I said to them, "I figured it was safe to go rifling through my purse next to you; who's gonna mug me with police officers?" One of them said, "Don't count on it", and the other one replied, "Welcome to New York."

Carrying on the Tradition

So my dad had tickets to the ballet last night, and of course he couldn't make it. My poor brother had to take the phone call of the woman he was supposed to go with and tell her why she wouldn't be going. My sister-in-law and I were going to go, but at the end of the day she wasn't into it, so I did what my dad had done on so many occasions. I decided to scalp them.

My brother was afraid I'd go out there and scream about my dad couldn't go to the ballet because he was dead, and did anyone want these tickets for a good price, but I have just a shred of tact in me, so I didn't do it that way. I actually started trying to sell them from the apartment building. I asked a well dressed couple if they wanted them, and they politely declined. Then I asked a man and woman who were getting out of their car. The woman said she would have loved to go, but they were going to Shakespeare in the Park. Another fine cultural event in NYC; we wished each other well and went on our respective ways.

My friend Victor and I got down to Lincoln Center, and I started asking people as soon as we got out of the cab. I asked two older women, but they already had tickets. I told them they were my father's tickets and he couldn't make it. "Why don't you go?" one of them asked. I told them I had family business to attend to, and I couldn't. See, didn't embarass anyone!

We made it to the entrance, and I held up my tickets like the other people were doing. A couple of people stopped and looked, but passed. It was about 20 minutes to curtain, so I wanted to get rid of them fast. Two guys approached me at the same time, and I offered them to one, but he had to go check with his friend. Victor followed him to see if he would come back, and by the time he did, making an offer, I just wanted to sell 'em fast. They were $34 each, worth $68, and Victor's guy was offering $40 for the pair. It took too long for him to come back, and the other guy was asking did I want to get rid of them, 10 minutes to curtain, so I just said yes and he gave me $30 for the pair. Victor ragged on me for a minute because he could have gotten me ten more bucks, but you know what? It was my first time, and I had $30 more than I would have had they just sat on the table in the apartment like they almost did. I felt good about carrying on Dad's tradition. I think he would have been proud, although he would have been slightly more savvy than I. Here's to you, Dad. Viva la scalp!