Gross!

So last night I'm in the bathroom and I see this multi-legged creepy looking insect skitter behind the toilet, next to the broom. I immediately grab my cat and put her face within viewing distance. I yell, "Look, Shelby, get it!" She looks around and sees the broom, which she thinks I've pointed out to her so she can chew the plastic bristles. She puts her face close to the broom bristles. "NO!!!" I scream. "Look, look! Get it! It's a bug!" The bug comes out a little, and Shelby takes one look and walks away. Like she does every time she sees a bug, goddammit.

I go get a boot to smash it, and succeed in doing so. However, as I'm smashing it, it's still moving a little, so I get freaked out and jump back, yelping. My bare foot lands on something wet and squishy, which makes me scream louder. It's a fresh hairball, compliments of Shelby. Ewww!!

Oh god, I was so freaked out by all of this, I just left everything where it was and went straight to bed. Cleaned everything up this morning. That's what I get for taking my slippers off for just one second. If you live on the first floor with a lazy cat, don't slack. Always be aware...

No More Heartache!

I tried the Pill Pockets, and they work like a charm! Pop the Atenelol in, Shelby eats the treat. Pop in the baby aspirin, same thing. Yay! No more sleepless nights worrying that I'll have to force a pill down her throat. No more avoidance. In fact, she eagerly awaits her treat every morning now. This morning, I had the audacity to go to the bathroom before giving her the daily treat. She was so angry, she followed me and bit my foot. Naughty kitty. Happy Mommy.

Heartache

I just found out that my almost 10 year old cat Shelby has mild heart disease. She was put on Atenelol and baby aspirin. My boss takes the same medicine. Weird. The Atenelol is to slow her heart down, and the aspirin is to prevent clots from forming. Apparently if clots form, her hind legs will stop working. Yikes.

Every day she has to take 1/4 of the Atenelol, so the size of the pill is pretty small. She has to take one baby aspirin every three days. That pill is pretty big. I spent at least five minutes in the aspirin section trying to decide if Shelby would like orange or cherry flavor better. Bayer, or St. Joseph's? I chose Bayer orange--chewable.

The first day of medication I put the Atenelol in some cream cheese and she ate it right up. I was psyched. I tried the same thing with the aspirin. She looked at it, sniffed it, and walked away. I left it for a little while, and it disintegrated. I mushed it all around, thinking with some more cream cheese she'd eat it and never taste the aspirin. I was wrong. I was freaked out because I knew she needed to take it. I decided to shove it down her throat the way I know people do. Well, she didn't like that much and fought me, so I ended up sort of smearing it all over her mouth like some disgusting lip gloss. She licked it all, so at least she got it in her.

The next morning when I got out of bed she cried to go in the hallway, which she never does in the morning. I opened the door for her and she went to sit under the wicker table, which is her special place to sit whenever she's really freaked out. Great. I hadn't even tried to give her the pills yet.

Someone told me about these things called Pill Pockets. They're treats with holes in them. You put the pill in the treat and fold it closed, and the cat (or dog) is supposed to eat the treat and never taste the pill. My local pet store didn't have them, but they told me about this food that I could put it in and maybe that would help. It's raw food, made with all kinds of stuff like chicken, clams, broccoli, and flax seed oil. Very healthy, delicious, and expensive.

I took that home and put the Atenelol in it. She ate it right up. Put the aspirin, whole, in the raw food. She ate all around it and left the aspirin. I ain't raising no dummy. I mushed it up in more food. No go. Dammit! I was, and am, determined to find a way for Shelby to take her medicine with food so I don't have to shove it down her throat, which is traumatic for both of us.

This weekend I quartered a baby aspirin and she ate it with the food. I praised her like she had just done a trick on command. A couple of people have told me that St. Joseph's is smaller than Bayer, so I went to the pharmacist to ask. She told me there's not that much difference in size, but the Bayer chewable aspirin can be crushed and is much sweeter than the St. Joseph's, which has a coating on it to make it easier to swallow. She suggested I try them to see the difference, which I did. She was right. Think I'll stick to the chewable.

I finally found Pill Pockets, so I'll try those the next time I have to give her the aspirin. Wish me luck!

The One-Eyed Goat

One of the highlights of my trip to Germany was seeing the one-eyed goat.

My friends and I were driving in the German countryside, and I saw a fuzzy brown creature in a pasture as we drove by. Having been born and raised in NYC, I get excited seeing wild creatures that are not squirrels or pigeons. "Stop the car!" I screamed. "I think I see a three-headed goat!" Thomas promised we would stop on our way back.

We got back to the pasture and the kids and I scrambled out of the car. The pasture was closed off by a flimsy fence of wood and plastic. Off in the distance we saw the creature: not a three-headed goat, merely a one-headed goat with huge horns and a beautiful brown coat of fur.

The goat, who was munching on grass, stopped and looked up at us. It seemed to be thinking, "Hmm..who's that? Maybe I'll go check it out." He started ambling towards us, slowly at first. As he got closer, his steps got faster. He started trotting, and about three quarters of the way he sprang into a full run, until BAM! he ran right into the fence. We jumped back, of course, a little scared, but amused as well. The fence held tight.

He turned his head and bleated at us, and that's when we saw that not only did he have one head, he only had one eye. Where his right eye was supposed to be was a dent covered with fur. We fed him some grass and then he gave us one last bleat and dismissed us, walking back slowly to the pasture. He began munching grass again. We kept watching him, transfixed by this strange creature.

After a couple of minutes, the goat looked up at us again, with absolutely no recognition in his squinty goat eyes. Again, he seemed to be thinking, "Hmm...who's that? I'll go check it out." He went through the rountine exactly as he had done before: walking, trotting, running BAM! into the fence. Let's just say that particular strudel didn't have all the ingredients, if you know what I mean. Doesn't take much to entertain me.

Things You Never See

Just a few weeks ago the wheelchair stall in the ladies' room was actually occupied by someone in a wheelchair. First time I'd seen that.

Today for the first time I saw a bird actually sitting in her nest.

I've seen plenty of unoccupied wheelchair stalls and nests. When's the last time you saw them occupied? Ever seen a baby squirrel or pigeon? Why did Chris Daughtry get voted off of American Idol, when he was clearly the favorite?

Serious questions, folks. Wanna make you think.

In the World of Children

I love the games children make up. Today a couple of girls were pretending they were babies. I asked them what they were playing. One of the girls who wasn't being a baby said, "We're playing Baby Find Celebration." I asked what that was, and she told me that a baby gets lost, they find the baby, and they celebrate. Simple, yet powerful.

One of my kids came in today sounding a little stuffy. I asked her if she was getting a cold, and she said, "No, I already have it."

Grand Statements

I live my life through Grand Statements. My friend Emily says it's because I'm an extrovert and it's my way of processing things--out loud. I think about things in my life and then declare what is happening with me. Upon reflection of this process, I've come to the conclusion that the Statements are true when I utter them, but they won't necessarily stick.

Here are some of the Grand Statements I've uttered in years past, all with an exclamation point for emphasis. No Grand Statement has lasted very long:

--I'm getting married!

--I'm a lesbian!

--I want to try stand-up comedy!

--I like my housecleaning jobs! (upon receiving my Master's degree)

--Thank you for all of your help, I won't be needing your services any more! (to my therapist)

--I'm bisexual!

--I want to live in Japan for at least a year, maybe more!

--I'm getting married!

--I'm going to swim my way to health!

--I'm going to karate chop my way to health!

--I'm going to music video dance my way to health!

--I'm over my ex!

My latest Grand Statement is that I'm done with dating. D-O-N-E. I bought myself a diamond ring to emphasize the Statement, and I wear it on my left hand, on purpose. I can now wave my Grand Statement to the public without saying a word. I am not available.

The other day a guy who was sitting to my left at a table asked me out. Oy vey.

Great Inventions

And now, my list of what I think are some of the world's greatest inventions:

-the Walkman/Discman/iPod

-the contact lens

-italics

-allergy injections

-the internet

-rolling shower curtain rings

-clumping cat litter

-caller ID

-Snickers with almonds

What are your favorite inventions?

Fun With Money Exchange

So Thomas and I are in the airport, and I want to change my money. I find the exchange booth, and I tell Thomas to go get the parking ticket to exit while I go get my Euros.

I change my money and decide to have a little fun. I put the bills in my pocket and have the coins in my hand. I go over to Thomas and show him the coins, saying, "I gave the man $500 and he gave me this. Is this a lot?"

Thomas freaks out, crying, "What???" I didn't let it go on too long, after all he had been through, but it was fun while it lasted.

My European Vacation (with a backstory)

So I went to Germany to visit some good friends of mine, Imke and Thomas, and their kids, who went to my preschool. Originally from Germany, they lived here for six years and went back last summer.

Backstory:

We've been through a lot together. Last year, when they were making the big move back to Germany, it was decided that Imke and the kids would go first, and Thomas would follow four months later. Thomas needed a place to stay for those four months.

I arranged for him to take my place, because I was moving to a bigger place. It was perfect; he'd be in my studio, I didn't feel guilty about leaving my landlords in the lurch. He signed some papers, gave some money, and the deal was done.

I moved in June, and he was set to move to my place in August. Well, I got to my new place and hated it. Called Thomas, crying and whimpering, and told him my plight. He said no problem, he'd find another place. Thank goodness he did find another place, around the corner from me. He got his money back and contract ripped up. A little stressful situation for awhile, but we both came out of it unscathed.

Onto my European vacation. I was all set to leave on Thursday, April 13. Imke and I had emailed and talked on the phone about the date. In order to get a cheaper ticket, I had to make a four hour stopover in Canada. I would leave at 11:30 am and arrive at 6:30 am. Long day, but whatever.

On Wednesday night, as my head hit the pillow, I suddenly thought: 6:30 am? Friday? What day? Thursday? It's six hours ahead; will I arrive on Friday? They'll know what day I arrive. Will they know? They'll know. They'll know...I fell asleep.

2:30 in the morning on Thursday I got a phone call from Imke: "Where are you?" "I'm at home." "You said you were coming Thursday!" "I'm leaving Thursday." "Thomas is hopping around the Frankfurt airport, I have to call him to tell him! Same time tomorrow, bye!" Well, needless to say, I felt like a big jerk. I couldn't fall back asleep, thinking about how Thomas left his house at 4:00 in the morning to pick me up at the airport, and how he was going to have to do it again the next day. How could I have missed that important detail?? I knew Thomas must have been very pissed.

Next morning as I was getting ready to go to the airport, Thomas called, and he was laughing, thank god. As I apologized profusely, he said that he had calmed down after awhile. We know each other well enough for him to tell me that indeed he was pissed off, but he was fine now. He gave me his cell phone number, a place to meet and an alternate place to meet in case we missed each other. He had told his co-workers (not mentioning my name) and found out that at his company that happened a lot with Americans, so I wasn't the only one. I still felt like an idiot. First I find an apartment for him then take it back, then I make him come to the airport a day early. It's a good thing we're such good friends.

In any case, I arrived safely, met Thomas with a hug and a smile at our first meeting place, and began my vacation with a good story to tell. That's how my vacation started.

Flying Off the Handle, Part Two

So rewind a few weeks, I'm back in the airport, getting ready to go to DC.

Get on the plane in Boston on US Airways, uneventful ride. Get off the plane, about to ask representative how to get to connecting flight. I hear the woman in front of me ask the same question and find out we're supposed to go to the United terminal, so I decide to follow her. Don't realize she's moving so fast, I can hardly keep up. I lose her while still in the US Airways terminal. I stand in the middle of the terminal looking for signage about United. Don't see any.

I hear a voice coming from somewhere, faintly, saying, "If you're going to United, come this way." I turn to the left and to the right. Nothing. I hear a man say, "Is this the way to United?" and see a door opening behind the US Airways counter. I make a mad dash to the door.

The man and I go down some stairs and suddenly we're on the tarmac. There's a bus pulling away, and we wave our arms frantically until it swings around to get us. We climb aboard. The first image that comes to mind about this bus is that it looks like those prison buses you see in the movies. We're not going to catch a connecting flight, we're all going to jail.

The bus drives for a few minutes, then stops. The driver gets on the phone and then hangs up, telling the passenger right in back of him what was said. I yell from the back of the bus, "The back of the bus can't hear what's going on!" So the message gets passed down like some weird game of Telephone: there's no stairway to the United terminal, and no one is there to open the door for us. The driver was told to drive back to US Airways. Okay, so now we're all looking at our watches and realize that our plane is leaving in 20 minutes. This is not okay. The driver says there's nothing he can do, and starts driving back.

We get back to US Airways, all pile off the bus, and go back inside. Half the group stays behind to complain to representatives, and half of us gather together to discuss what we should do. Someone says, "Let's just go to the sidewalk and take a public bus to the terminal." We all go outside. We don't even know what terminal we're looking for, so half of our now halved group scans the airport map, and half wait for a bus. We get the terminal letter, and wait. I pipe up, "I feel like we're on a reality TV show. Where are the cameras?" Bitter laughter.

After a few mintues of no bus arriving, someone says, "Look, there's a sign that says, 'Walkway to Terminals'. Let's run!" Sounds good to us, we start booking it. I scream, "Let's pretend we're on The Amazing Race!" We are running, some in heels, some with no coats, some with wheelie bags flying behind. It's 32 degrees.

We run, run, run down the walkway in the dark cold night. None of us knows where we're going, we just figure the guys in the front will lead us the right way. They do. We get inside to whatever terminal it is, B or C or something, and discover that we have to go through security again. Our flight leaves in five minutes.

One woman and I talk about how we're going to get compensation for this shit, this is not okay, are you a student? no, I'm a teacher. I go to BU Law. Oh? says someone else, me too. oh? We're doing this as we're removing our shoes and putting our things into the grey bins for security.

Find out what gate we're supposed to go to, run to the gate. Arrive, breathless, panting, gasping for air. No one is at the gate. One man arrives to tell us the flight is late. We are pissed. We are incensed. We are ripshit. We are hungry. I go over to the little store and buy us dinner: cinnamon raisin bagel chips. We pass the bag around. Pose for a group photo. Talk about who to write the letter of complaint to. Hear a rumor that there were actually three groups of people for this flight: one group made it on the first bus and had no problem, our group, and the last group, who stayed behind to complain and probably got compensated.

The flight arrives. We get on and have an uneventful ride, except for the dramatic story I tell the flight attendant to explain why we all look so upset. She suggests writing to both the airport and the airlines.

We arrive in DC. I can't wait to blog.

Oops

So I'm in the store buying Prince's latest cd (on the day it was released, of course), and there's this $10 cd sale. I buy The Beatles #1 hits, and Funk Soul Anthems.

The reason I buy Funk Soul Anthems is because of the first song I see: "One Nation Under a Groove" by Funkadelic. Oh my god, that was one of the hits of my childhood, and I haven't heard it since. Then I see another classic: "Oops Upside Your Head" by the Gap Band.

I bring the cd into school the next day and introduce the kids to some of the funkiest music of the 70's. The one song that caught the kids' attention and made their little butts wiggle the most was "Oops Upside Your Head." Easy lyrics:

Oops, upside your head, I said, oops upside your head...(meaning a slap with an upward motion on the back of the head given when someone has done something foolish)

We're grooving along, the beat is funky, and then I hear the little rap line that comes in I had totally forgotten about:

Jack and Jill went up the hill
To have a little fun
Stupid Jill forgot the pill
And now they have a son!

Oops, upside your head, I said, oops upside your head!

For the rest of the day I made sure to cough or turn the sound down when that part came on. Oops!

Boston Globe

I'm working on Airport, part 2. Until then, check this out:

http://www.boston.com/yourlife/fashion/articles/2006/03/16/visible_ink/

Click through the pictures and you'll see my legs!

Flying off the Handle, Part One

I went to DC from Boston last weekend. Got a cheap flight, which meant I'd have to change planes. No problem. Or so I thought.

The very first thing that went wrong on this trip happened even before I checked in. I looked on my email itinerary and it said United Airlines flight 2667. Operated by US Airways. What the heck does that mean? Do I go to United or US Airways? Two different terminals. Well, the logo and first airline mentioned was United, so I got off at United.

Got to the do-it-yourself check-in, and they wouldn't take my card. I looked again at my itinerary, and there, to the right, it said, "Please check in at US Airways ticket counter." This is why you should get to the airport early. So I went and asked where the US Airways terminal was, and the guy showed me the walkway. I walked to the terminal, checked in, and went to the gate.

At the scanner gate, we all removed our shoes and belts and put our stuff in those grey plastic bins. I was very proud of myself for making it so I wouldn't have to dump loose change, keys, and my cell phone in like everyone else. Nice and concise, my things. Two bags, coat, shoes, belt. All I had on was my jeans, sweater, and scarf.

Went through the scanner doorway, showed the guy my ticket, and proceeded to walk towards my bags. The ticket guy stopped me and said, "Trying to sneak past me, huh?" and then he showed me that if a ticket has an "S" on it, you have been selected to be searched. He showed me the "S" on my ticket. I said nothing, as I know that these days it is not okay to joke about what a preschool teacher could be armed with.

Having been searched two or three times before, I knew the drill. Stand on the mat with the feet imprinted on it, raise your arms. I did as asked, and the woman searching me told me she was just going to check in and around my scarf. She said, "Next time, just take the scarf off, okay?" Again, no jokes. All I could think of was a headline: Mild-mannered preschool teacher hides weapons in polar fleece scarf (scarf lovingly crafted by preschool parent)

Got through, got dressed, and got to the gate with time to spare. Uneventful ride. Got off at NYC's LaGuardia airport, where I had to change planes. And that's where Part Two comes in. To be continued...

AI

Tonight on American Idol last season's winner Carrie Underwood performed her smash hit, "Jesus Take the Wheel." I'm not kidding, that's what the song was called. When I heard Ryan Seacrest say the name of the song I burst out laughing. Come on!

Then she sang the song, and I must say, I was very impressed. She was never one of my faves, but winning has been good for her. She sounds so much better now, and the song itself was not so bad. Until the part when the woman driving the truck slips on a patch of black ice and lets "Jesus take the wheel." Want to know what happens? He takes the wheel, and she doesn't die! Hallelujah!

My friend Tressa called at the commercial and I answered with, "I can't talk, I'm driving." She topped that with, "I sure hope Jesus wasn't drinking tonight!" Every time I think of that line, I burst out laughing. I look like a crazy person sitting in my armchair with my white bathrobe, bursting into laughter for no apparent reason. If you see me doing this, it's because I'm thinking of something funny someone said. Everyone does that, right? Right?

Who's Lovin' You?

So this week on American Idol I thought the women all sucked, except for Lisa Tucker, who not only sounded great but sang one of my favorite songs, "Who's Lovin' You?". I don't know if The Jackson 5 were the first ones to sing it, but their version (really little Michael Jackson) kicks ass.
I got so pumped listening to Lisa Tucker that I got out my J5 CD and played that song over and over. It made me think about Michael Jackson, and how he got from there to where he is today. Started in the J5 when he was something like five years old, and recorded "Who's Lovin' You?" when he was eleven. Boy could sing! Hit all the notes, had some amazing riffs, and seemed like he really felt what he was singing.

(needle scratching record sound) Say what???

Think about it. An elementary-aged kid crooning songs about kissing, love, and heartache...eww! That's messed up. Sometimes the songs seemed okay for a kid to sing, like "Rockin' Robin" and "Dancin' Machine"; those were cute teenybopper songs. One of my favorite lines is from the song, "Sugar Daddy", which sounds sick, but is very catchy, and funny when little Michael belts out, "I'll even let you drive my Caddy, when I get one, Baby!"

When he was a kid he was treated as an adult, and now that he's an adult, all he wants to do is be a kid. I'm not saying it's okay for him to sleep with little kids and give them Jesus Juice. Alls I'm saying is that it's pretty easy to see how MJ got to be where he is, and it's so sad. Such talent! There was too much pressure, and no childhood. If I could get in a time machine, I'd go to Gary, Indiana, and rescue that boy from future Coke pyrotechnic accidents and facial reconstruction. Say what you want about Wacko Jacko; I'm still a fan.

I quit...and I'm feeling lucky!

I quit karate today. I knew it was coming; you did too, right? I just wasn't feeling it. The Japanese style of teaching conflicts with my desire to process and practice, over and over.

I knew I was going to quit today when I started thinking about having to, yet again, rush home, stuff something in my face, or not and be starving at 7:15, paying $85 for the next month in addition to another class I'm going to take (more on that in a minute), and the feeling of dread if I just skipped this class. Oh, the kata moves I'd miss!

As I went along my afternoon, it occurred to me that I didn't have to continue karate. I am a grownup, and grownups can pretty much do whatever they want to. Karate isn't in my bones, and swimming wasn't either. You wanna know what's in my bones? Dancing. Not partner dancing, but get out there on the dance floor and "shake what your mama gave ya" dancing. That's why I'm going to take...

Music Video Dance--dance like they do in the music videos! The class description read something like this: "Do you want to move like Britney Spears and J.Lo? Learn the steps and routines of dances shown in music videos..."yada yada yada, that's all I needed to read, check is in the mail! An hour once a week for eight weeks, starts at the end of March. I'm psyzziched!!

I went over to the karate studio to tell Sensei I wouldn't be continuing. I felt guilty; he's such a nice man. I went in and whispered (because there was a class going on) that I wouldn't be continuing. He asked why, and I told him I didn't think it was the right thing for me. Then I said something about schedules and how I couldn't train three times a week...and he told me I could do it two times a week. And I floundered, just like I do with my arms in karate class, and I told him that I knew he was there and if I wanted to continue I would come back. He said that he hoped to see me again. Oh god, I wanted to cry, this sweet man with so much patience for me!

Thing is, what I really want to do is have green tea with this man, not ward off some invisible attacker and hear Sensei Bob teach the little kids how to punch and kick someone instead of talking to them. Don't get me wrong, I have respect for martial arts, it's just that it's not my thing.

I left feeling sad and guilty, and that lasted about five minutes. 'Cause then my iPod kicked into high gear with Beyonce's "Naughty Girl" and Earth Wind & Fire's, "You're the One For Me." I can see myself in a glittery outfit strutting my stuff on a cruiseline stage, not standing stock still while I try to kick an opponent the size of a Chihuahua, because that's as high as I can kick.

It felt so good to have the weight lifted off my shoulders from the burden of karate class that I bought some kind of lottery ticket on the way home. I picked some numbers and got instructions to watch the news at 11:00 to see if I'd won. I felt lucky. And free.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go plug in my iPod battery charger.

Down the Drain

I tried to take a bath on Saturday. I do that every once in awhile, take a nice hot bubblebath, followed by a shower. It's not the best for the skin, dries it out, but it's so relaxing.

So I ran the tub and put the product in, this time a packet of bath salts from Japan that I've had for about two years. The woman who gave it to me said, looking into my eyes (when is the last time a Japanese person looked someone in the eye?), "It's relaxing." She also had a hand on my shoulder. Was she trying to tell me I was uptight?

While the tub was filling up, I busied myself by emailing. When I went in to check the water level, it was done. It was a beautiful sight: a tub full all the way to the top, just the way I like it. Ahh...

I got in and realized it was just a tad cooler than my ideal temperature. I let some of the water out so that I could fill it with hot water and really stretch out and enjoy the whole event. I turned on the water...and it was cold. No matter, it's always cold when you first turn it on, I figured it would warm up in a few seconds like it usually does.

It didn't. I kept it on, thinking it really would change. It kept not changing. So now I was sitting in a tub of lukewarm water, not relaxing. I let more of the water out, thinking that by the time more of the water was out, surely the hot water would come back and I would enjoy the hot relaxing bath I had been expecting. It didn't happen.

Unbelieveably, I had to realize my dream of having a hot bath was not going to occur. I got out of the tub and angrily dried myself off, put my pajamas back on and muttered under my breath, "I'm going to start this day all over again, goddamnit!"

And then I said (in my head this time), "Stop being such a spoiled brat! There are people in the world who don't even have cold water, Princess! There are people with no running water at all, and what do you want to do, waste gallons of water so you can dry out your lily white skin?" I told myself it was a lesson: Be satisfied with what you have, and don't be greedy. I started wondering if there was an Aesop's fable to go along with this event, and then the little devil came in my head and said, "For Chrissakes, stop analyzing the shit out of this damn bath! All you wanted was a little hot water, is that too much to ask??"

The next day I tried again. Avon bubble bath, tub filled up 3/4, not all the way. Checked the water temperature often. It worked. Ahh...

words

Words I like the sound of:

ubiquitous
hence
notwithstanding
nevertheless
ergo
brassiere

Words I cannot stand the sound of:

panties
trousers
pianist
dungarees
pronto
blouse
probe

Words I thought I didn't like the sound of, but actually do:

chakra

Feel free to add to these lists. I'm curious.

Funny Talk

I am around kids nearly every day. I love it. They say the funniest things, with dead-on timing. Here are a few recent samples:

I am walking with Ramona, 4, in my arms. She is facing me, and she squeezes my breasts like they're bicycle horns. As she does so, she says, "Boobs!" (squeeze) Boobs!" (squeeze)

Me: Ramona, it's not very polite to squeeze a woman's boobs.
Ramona: You're not a woman.
Me: Oh really? What am I?
Ramona: You're a lady.

I'm at my art class with five kids. I'm telling them my fantasy of skating in the next winter Olympics.

Sila, 10: Alex, you'll be great.
Jasmine, 11: Yeah, in the hospital!
I give Jasmine an incredulous look.
Jasmine: What? Maybe you'll get jello.

More to come...