Sent February 19, 2004:
Hello!
It has been a while since I last kept in touch, so I wanted to send an update. I am currently in Miami, FL where my team has been for the past four weeks assisting low-income families file their 2003 federal tax returns. In addition to doing taxes, my team has also been volunteering at the Miami Children's Hospital three nights a week as bedside buddies, which involves pushing carts of toys and games from room to room and playing with kids who are unable to leave their beds.
Tax work here has been slow, mostly because most people hadn't received their W-2 forms until recently. The team, divided into pairs, works at five different locations throughout the city during the week and on Saturdays. Having never filed a single tax return of my own, helping someone else with theirs is a bit daunting. You're never sure if you could've gotten someone a bigger refund or if you even did the return correctly. Having the taxpayer sign a release form that "remises, releases, acquits, satisfies, waives, indemnifies, holds harmless, exonerates and forever discharges" us from "any and all claims, demands, accounts, sums of money, torts, trespasses, expenses, ...which may have as a result of personal injury or damage to or loss of property while receiving" our tax services is only a slight relief in the sense that I know I can't be sued for screwing up, but it still wouldn't alleviate the guilt. Aside from that, what makes this experience worth it is in seeing the lit up faces of taxpayers when they're told that they will be receiving a much needed four or five thousand dollar refund.
During the day when we're not providing tax assistance, which is often, we pass the time by contemplating our navels or planning our life after Americorps. I've done much of both, and as of right now, I'm keeping all options open about where I'll be or what I'll be doing after July 1st. In other words, I don't have a job and need one.
My team leaves Miami this Saturday to return to Charleston for a few days before we begin our next project next week. We have been assigned to High Point, North Carolina for an education project. We will be tutoring at four elementary schools during the day and running an after school program at a local Boys and Girls Club which is also where we'll be staying.
In other news, I'm delighted to report that I managed to take some days off from Americorps to go to Hawaii for the Kaimana Klassik XVII Ultimate Frisbee tournament this past weekend. It was wonderful seeing Whiptail alums Merritt, Cara, Lin, Marta, Andra, and Brynne, and in Hawaii no less! We played ultimate against a gorgeous backdrop of green mountains and camped by a beach of white sands and clear blue water. I had a terrific time. All I have left to say about Whiptail reunions is that I like it, I love it, and I want more of it!
Blogger's note: After four years since the last non-Millyfest Whiptail reunion, the alums are once again discussing the prospect of forming an alum team for a tournament in 2009. Finally!
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
My Life Circa 2003 - Part 2
Sent November 18, 2003:
Hello all,
I'm back in Charleston, having returned from my project at the Mississippi State Hospital. The project went really well and we accomplished everything that we had set out to do. Over the course of three weeks, my team searched for and excavated over 3,500 headstones that were buried beneath inches (sometimes over a foot) of dirt and grass, and remodeled the outdoor chapel used for funeral services at the cemetery. We filled in sunken graves with new dirt, realigned any headstones that had gone astray, and raked and cleared off unearthed dirt and dead brush around the headstones. For the chapel, we re-shingled the roof, removed and installed new railings, removed old siding and nailed in new siding, and caulked and primed everything for painting.
Blogger's note: While digging, favorite songs to listen to included: Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust," U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and Dave Matthew's "Grave Digger" (not to be confused with Kanye's "Gold Digger"). It's strange to think that less than five years ago, I was still toting around a clunky portable CD player and buying CDs at a music store.
We also learned about the hospital and the different types of treatments it provides for its psychiatric patients. Some of my teammates shadowed staff in the forensics and chemical dependency units, and all of us attended sessions on music and art therapy. We also visited the hospital museum which is located in the original building where treatments such as electric shock and hydrotherapy were given to the patients.
We learned that a prominent artist named Walter Anderson whose art exhibit is currently at the Mississippi Museum of Art was once a patient at MSH (they seemed quite proud of that fact). The woman who gave us a tour of the campus was also proud to tell us that several movies have been filmed at campus including "A Time to Kill" (starring Matthew McConaughey, Sandra Bullock, and Morgan Freeman).
Blogger's note: According to Wikipedia, Walter Anderson often plotted elaborate escapes from the various mental hospitals at which he was a patient. "During one of several escapes from the Mississippi State Hospital, he lowered himself on bedsheets from a second-story window, leaving the brick walls festooned with drawings of birds in flight, done in soap."
While we didn't have much opportunity to work with living patients, we did interact with a few patients in the dining hall where we ate our meals. One patient took a particular liking to our group and he often spoke to us during lunch. I didn't know that he was a patient at first because he often ate in the dining hall designated for hospital employees.
Blogger's note: I'll admit it, I thought this dude was sketchy from the very beginning. But it being my first foray into the Deep South, I tried to keep an open mind. Still, it was difficult for me not to take offense when he said, "No, where are you really from?" after I had replied, "New York," the first time he asked the question. I also tried not to feel uncomfortable by his open disdain of the "Northern aggression" (in referring to the Civil War). What probably should have tipped us off was his conviction of the existence of buried treasure on the hospital grounds.
After our second interaction with him, I finally noticed the green bracelet on his wrist. The color green meant that the patient had reached the highest level of privileges, allowing him to walk around campus without supervision. This e-mail would get too long if I went on to talk about all the kinds of advice he tried to give the women on our team.
Blogger's note: One of the relationship tips he dispensed was how to gauge a potential suitor's worthiness. We should only marry a man if he expresses concern for our spiritual well-being, and to find out if he does, we must ask him, "Do you care about my spiritual well-being?" So readers, don't forget to include that little criteria in your quest for true love.
The city of Jackson does not offer much for its tourists. Save a few museums and the governor's mansion, there wasn't a whole lot to see or do downtown. So instead of hanging out in Jackson on the weekends, we took off for Vicksburg one weekend for a driving tour of a civil war park consisting of monuments dedicated to all the battalions that fought in the war. The 16-mile tour only reminded us of our cemetery back at MSH so we quickly found a short cut out of the park and went exploring elsewhere. We spent the second weekend in New Orleans and stayed at a teammate's house in Slidell. After a raucous night of partying on Bourbon Street on Saturday, we did an independent service project at a local convenant house the next day, washing windows and sanding down railings to prepare for a new coat of paint.
On our way back to Charleston at the end of last week, we made a stop in Atlanta, GA for half a day. I visited the High Folk Art and Photography gallery for a photo exhibit of Aperture at 50: Past Forward. I also took a CNN studio tour at their headquarters which, quite frankly, sucked.
Blogger's note: In the original e-mail, I had written a more detailed description of the CNN tour but after reading it now, I decided that "sucked" would suffice.
Tomorrow, we'll begin our second project at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner, SC, home to Trappist monks. The project is short - only 6 working days. We'll be helping out in their library and botanical garden. I hear the abbey is beautiful and am excited to take a break from digging.
Blogger's note: Mepkin Abbey, as recently as 2007, stirred some controversy when PETA released a video showing the abbey's egg farming operations that involved de-beaking hens and forced molting practices.
And more news! We recently were told about our third project, which is to begin right after Thanksgiving weekend and to continue after our winter break until near the end of February. My team will be heading down to Miami, Florida to help the Hispanic and Creole communities of the city file their taxes. For about two weeks (Dec. 1-12) we will receive training on how exactly to do someone's taxes (good practical skill to learn for the future) and then when we come back after winter break, we'll begin the actual work. We'll be living in a hotel (we're going to be so spoiled!) and my team will be working in pairs in different communities/neighborhoods in the city.
I want to start learning some Spanish, so if any of you have recommendations for specific teach-yourself-Spanish books/CDs please let me know, or if you want to email me some essential Spanish vocab/phrases, feel free to do so.
Blogger's note: I purchased one of those teach-yourself-Spanish book and CD sets only to learn that the community to which I was assigned (Model City, aka Liberty City) was predominantly African American. The only Spanish I've picked up between 2003 and now was when my family took a vacation to Mexico in 2004 and I learned to say, "Por favor, donde esta el bano? Gracias!" ("Please, where is the bathroom? Thank you!")
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Hello all,
I'm back in Charleston, having returned from my project at the Mississippi State Hospital. The project went really well and we accomplished everything that we had set out to do. Over the course of three weeks, my team searched for and excavated over 3,500 headstones that were buried beneath inches (sometimes over a foot) of dirt and grass, and remodeled the outdoor chapel used for funeral services at the cemetery. We filled in sunken graves with new dirt, realigned any headstones that had gone astray, and raked and cleared off unearthed dirt and dead brush around the headstones. For the chapel, we re-shingled the roof, removed and installed new railings, removed old siding and nailed in new siding, and caulked and primed everything for painting.
Blogger's note: While digging, favorite songs to listen to included: Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust," U2's "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," and Dave Matthew's "Grave Digger" (not to be confused with Kanye's "Gold Digger"). It's strange to think that less than five years ago, I was still toting around a clunky portable CD player and buying CDs at a music store.
We also learned about the hospital and the different types of treatments it provides for its psychiatric patients. Some of my teammates shadowed staff in the forensics and chemical dependency units, and all of us attended sessions on music and art therapy. We also visited the hospital museum which is located in the original building where treatments such as electric shock and hydrotherapy were given to the patients.
We learned that a prominent artist named Walter Anderson whose art exhibit is currently at the Mississippi Museum of Art was once a patient at MSH (they seemed quite proud of that fact). The woman who gave us a tour of the campus was also proud to tell us that several movies have been filmed at campus including "A Time to Kill" (starring Matthew McConaughey, Sandra Bullock, and Morgan Freeman).
Blogger's note: According to Wikipedia, Walter Anderson often plotted elaborate escapes from the various mental hospitals at which he was a patient. "During one of several escapes from the Mississippi State Hospital, he lowered himself on bedsheets from a second-story window, leaving the brick walls festooned with drawings of birds in flight, done in soap."
While we didn't have much opportunity to work with living patients, we did interact with a few patients in the dining hall where we ate our meals. One patient took a particular liking to our group and he often spoke to us during lunch. I didn't know that he was a patient at first because he often ate in the dining hall designated for hospital employees.
Blogger's note: I'll admit it, I thought this dude was sketchy from the very beginning. But it being my first foray into the Deep South, I tried to keep an open mind. Still, it was difficult for me not to take offense when he said, "No, where are you really from?" after I had replied, "New York," the first time he asked the question. I also tried not to feel uncomfortable by his open disdain of the "Northern aggression" (in referring to the Civil War). What probably should have tipped us off was his conviction of the existence of buried treasure on the hospital grounds.
After our second interaction with him, I finally noticed the green bracelet on his wrist. The color green meant that the patient had reached the highest level of privileges, allowing him to walk around campus without supervision. This e-mail would get too long if I went on to talk about all the kinds of advice he tried to give the women on our team.
Blogger's note: One of the relationship tips he dispensed was how to gauge a potential suitor's worthiness. We should only marry a man if he expresses concern for our spiritual well-being, and to find out if he does, we must ask him, "Do you care about my spiritual well-being?" So readers, don't forget to include that little criteria in your quest for true love.
The city of Jackson does not offer much for its tourists. Save a few museums and the governor's mansion, there wasn't a whole lot to see or do downtown. So instead of hanging out in Jackson on the weekends, we took off for Vicksburg one weekend for a driving tour of a civil war park consisting of monuments dedicated to all the battalions that fought in the war. The 16-mile tour only reminded us of our cemetery back at MSH so we quickly found a short cut out of the park and went exploring elsewhere. We spent the second weekend in New Orleans and stayed at a teammate's house in Slidell. After a raucous night of partying on Bourbon Street on Saturday, we did an independent service project at a local convenant house the next day, washing windows and sanding down railings to prepare for a new coat of paint.
On our way back to Charleston at the end of last week, we made a stop in Atlanta, GA for half a day. I visited the High Folk Art and Photography gallery for a photo exhibit of Aperture at 50: Past Forward. I also took a CNN studio tour at their headquarters which, quite frankly, sucked.
Blogger's note: In the original e-mail, I had written a more detailed description of the CNN tour but after reading it now, I decided that "sucked" would suffice.
Tomorrow, we'll begin our second project at Mepkin Abbey in Moncks Corner, SC, home to Trappist monks. The project is short - only 6 working days. We'll be helping out in their library and botanical garden. I hear the abbey is beautiful and am excited to take a break from digging.
Blogger's note: Mepkin Abbey, as recently as 2007, stirred some controversy when PETA released a video showing the abbey's egg farming operations that involved de-beaking hens and forced molting practices.
And more news! We recently were told about our third project, which is to begin right after Thanksgiving weekend and to continue after our winter break until near the end of February. My team will be heading down to Miami, Florida to help the Hispanic and Creole communities of the city file their taxes. For about two weeks (Dec. 1-12) we will receive training on how exactly to do someone's taxes (good practical skill to learn for the future) and then when we come back after winter break, we'll begin the actual work. We'll be living in a hotel (we're going to be so spoiled!) and my team will be working in pairs in different communities/neighborhoods in the city.
I want to start learning some Spanish, so if any of you have recommendations for specific teach-yourself-Spanish books/CDs please let me know, or if you want to email me some essential Spanish vocab/phrases, feel free to do so.
Blogger's note: I purchased one of those teach-yourself-Spanish book and CD sets only to learn that the community to which I was assigned (Model City, aka Liberty City) was predominantly African American. The only Spanish I've picked up between 2003 and now was when my family took a vacation to Mexico in 2004 and I learned to say, "Por favor, donde esta el bano? Gracias!" ("Please, where is the bathroom? Thank you!")
Stayed tuned for Part 3.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
My Life Circa 2003 - Part 1
It's near the end of August and I have neglected to post on this blog until now in part due to the busy club ultimate season. I'm also very boring and don't have exciting things to report now that I work a desk job. So rather than write new material, I'm resurrecting the past. I will share, in a 4-part series, e-mail updates I sent to friends and family during my AmeriCorps days that chronicled the service projects I worked on from 2003 to 2004 (back when I was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and a little more interesting).
Aside from some minor editing, the content is the original.
Sent October 25, 2003:
Hi all!
I just finished my first month here in Charleston. It feels like I've been here for a lot longer than a month but at the same time I'm surprised to see how quickly time has passed. Because what I'm doing is not a typical 9-5pm office job, it feels like I'm on an extended summer break, especially because it's still warm here and I've hit the beach every weekend so far. And with everyone being between the ages of 18 and 24, it feels like college all over again except there's no homework and it's coed, which means I actually interact with males more than once every few months.
My team has worked on several short-term service projects during our month of training. We've dug out water pipes from the ground, built fences for a garden show, sorted donated shoes for Goodwill, tied pink ribbons to mark the course for Race for the Cure (for breast cancer), and worked in a Habitat for Humanity resale store doing everything from reorganizing their bookroom to building shelves and lugging window frames from one end of the warehouse to another.
We've also done some independent service work outside of the program on weekends. So far, my team has directed parking for a rock concert benefiting children with autism and painted rocking chairs for the Ronald McDonald house, which is a charity that provides parents of children who are sick and need long-term treatment at a hospital with nearby housing (a room in the Ronald McDonald house) so they do not need to travel far to be with their children.
We also helped an animal rescue organization called the Keeper of the Wild, which is really run by one woman (aka the Keeper) who cares for injured and sick wild raccoons, prairie dogs, squirrels, foxes, possums, and skunks. She has a 15 year-old squirrel as a pet. Squirrels in the wild generally live up to only 2 or 3 years but if kept in captivity can live up to 18 years. This geriatric squirrel was so old he had lost over 50% of his fur and was completely toothless and wrinkled. (Think Grandpa without his clothes on). JSo- even YOU wouldn't want to keep this little guy as a pet!
While doing yardwork at Keeper of the Wild, we encountered a copperhead snake that slithered into our work area within a few feet of us. It didn't seem like a big deal until I was told that it was poisonous and in pounce mode (whoa!). We notified the Keeper who nonchalantly, while talking on her cellphone, took one of our shovels, flung the snake into an open space away from us, and basically ripped it into pieces. It was mesmerizing to watch. That snake, as vicious as it had seemed to the rest of us, didn't have a chance against the Keeper!
We recently were briefed about two of our future long-term spike projects that will take place between the end of October (next week) and Thanksgiving. For the first project, which will be 3 weeks long, we will be in Jackson, Mississippi working in a psychiatric ward of the Mississippi State Hospital. We were told that this mental hospital is one of the largest in the United States. Our primary project, however, does not entirely involve working with live patients. Instead, we will be working in a graveyard that contains about 4,000 corpses of psychiatric patients dating back to the 1930s. Due to the stigma of mental illness, none of these patients were given a proper burial. Many but not all have only small markers to indicate their approximate location. We'll be working with hospital staff and archaeologists to locate the bodies and help prepare the pouring of the headstones for them. Besides this job, we'll also be doing carpentry work of repairing a chapel on the hospital grounds and spending time with the patients (all senior citizens) at the psychiatric ward. We leave for this project next Monday!
Our second project will be back in Charleston and we'll be working with monks at a local abbey. Our project will involve mostly gardening work and carpentry. We have been invited to join the monks for a silent meal as most of them have taken a vow of silence, which will be interesting.
End of Part 1.
Notes: Back in the stone age of 2003, none of us owned digital cameras. The next time I go home, I'll try to scan some to post (there are some real gems in my photo collection).
Aside from some minor editing, the content is the original.
Sent October 25, 2003:
Hi all!
I just finished my first month here in Charleston. It feels like I've been here for a lot longer than a month but at the same time I'm surprised to see how quickly time has passed. Because what I'm doing is not a typical 9-5pm office job, it feels like I'm on an extended summer break, especially because it's still warm here and I've hit the beach every weekend so far. And with everyone being between the ages of 18 and 24, it feels like college all over again except there's no homework and it's coed, which means I actually interact with males more than once every few months.
My team has worked on several short-term service projects during our month of training. We've dug out water pipes from the ground, built fences for a garden show, sorted donated shoes for Goodwill, tied pink ribbons to mark the course for Race for the Cure (for breast cancer), and worked in a Habitat for Humanity resale store doing everything from reorganizing their bookroom to building shelves and lugging window frames from one end of the warehouse to another.
We've also done some independent service work outside of the program on weekends. So far, my team has directed parking for a rock concert benefiting children with autism and painted rocking chairs for the Ronald McDonald house, which is a charity that provides parents of children who are sick and need long-term treatment at a hospital with nearby housing (a room in the Ronald McDonald house) so they do not need to travel far to be with their children.
We also helped an animal rescue organization called the Keeper of the Wild, which is really run by one woman (aka the Keeper) who cares for injured and sick wild raccoons, prairie dogs, squirrels, foxes, possums, and skunks. She has a 15 year-old squirrel as a pet. Squirrels in the wild generally live up to only 2 or 3 years but if kept in captivity can live up to 18 years. This geriatric squirrel was so old he had lost over 50% of his fur and was completely toothless and wrinkled. (Think Grandpa without his clothes on). JSo- even YOU wouldn't want to keep this little guy as a pet!
While doing yardwork at Keeper of the Wild, we encountered a copperhead snake that slithered into our work area within a few feet of us. It didn't seem like a big deal until I was told that it was poisonous and in pounce mode (whoa!). We notified the Keeper who nonchalantly, while talking on her cellphone, took one of our shovels, flung the snake into an open space away from us, and basically ripped it into pieces. It was mesmerizing to watch. That snake, as vicious as it had seemed to the rest of us, didn't have a chance against the Keeper!
We recently were briefed about two of our future long-term spike projects that will take place between the end of October (next week) and Thanksgiving. For the first project, which will be 3 weeks long, we will be in Jackson, Mississippi working in a psychiatric ward of the Mississippi State Hospital. We were told that this mental hospital is one of the largest in the United States. Our primary project, however, does not entirely involve working with live patients. Instead, we will be working in a graveyard that contains about 4,000 corpses of psychiatric patients dating back to the 1930s. Due to the stigma of mental illness, none of these patients were given a proper burial. Many but not all have only small markers to indicate their approximate location. We'll be working with hospital staff and archaeologists to locate the bodies and help prepare the pouring of the headstones for them. Besides this job, we'll also be doing carpentry work of repairing a chapel on the hospital grounds and spending time with the patients (all senior citizens) at the psychiatric ward. We leave for this project next Monday!
Our second project will be back in Charleston and we'll be working with monks at a local abbey. Our project will involve mostly gardening work and carpentry. We have been invited to join the monks for a silent meal as most of them have taken a vow of silence, which will be interesting.
End of Part 1.
Notes: Back in the stone age of 2003, none of us owned digital cameras. The next time I go home, I'll try to scan some to post (there are some real gems in my photo collection).
Friday, July 25, 2008
Why I love the Aussies and the Kiwis
Reasons #219 and #305
"A man in New Zealand has been charged with using a hedgehog as a weapon, the New Zealand Herald has reported. Police said William Singalargh, 27, had hurled the hedgehog about 5m (16ft) at a 15-year-old boy. ...It was unclear whether the hedgehog was still alive when it was thrown, though it was dead when collected as evidence." - BBC News, April 7, 2008 (courtesy of Lesley)
Go to the article to get the full story.
"A family court judge in New Zealand has had enough with parents giving their children bizarre names. So he did something about it. Just ask Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii. He had her renamed. Judge Rob Murfitt made the 9-year-old girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed. The new name was not made public to protect the girl's privacy. 'The court is profoundly concerned about the very poor judgment which this child's parents have shown in choosing this name,' he wrote. 'It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap, unnecessarily.' " - Express, July 25, 2008
Who needs an imagination when you have the Express reporting gems like this?
Thank you, Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii, for bringing joy to my Friday.
"A man in New Zealand has been charged with using a hedgehog as a weapon, the New Zealand Herald has reported. Police said William Singalargh, 27, had hurled the hedgehog about 5m (16ft) at a 15-year-old boy. ...It was unclear whether the hedgehog was still alive when it was thrown, though it was dead when collected as evidence." - BBC News, April 7, 2008 (courtesy of Lesley)
Go to the article to get the full story.
"A family court judge in New Zealand has had enough with parents giving their children bizarre names. So he did something about it. Just ask Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii. He had her renamed. Judge Rob Murfitt made the 9-year-old girl a ward of the court so that her name could be changed. The new name was not made public to protect the girl's privacy. 'The court is profoundly concerned about the very poor judgment which this child's parents have shown in choosing this name,' he wrote. 'It makes a fool of the child and sets her up with a social disability and handicap, unnecessarily.' " - Express, July 25, 2008
Who needs an imagination when you have the Express reporting gems like this?
Thank you, Talula Does the Hula From Hawaii, for bringing joy to my Friday.
Friday, July 04, 2008
On the Road
While millions of Americans are performing their patriotic duty of firing up their grills and throwing back a beer (or six) in their backyards, I am sitting on a New York-bound Bolt Bus, eating a bag of Sun chips and blogging with free wi-fi.
For $5.50 more than a round-trip Chinatown bus ticket, I get internet, an electrical outlet, pleather seats that actually recline, and a two-seater all to myself. Moreover, the bus left on time, there are no stops in Baltimore, and I didn't have to break out my nun-chucks to battle for a seat. (The typical Chinatown bus experience, especially over holiday weekends, is that no seat is guaranteed even if you book online in advance. Sometimes I have no choice but to get all Chuck Norris on people just so I don't get left behind.)
This past week I started running for the first time since I injured by ankle on June 1st. The swelling hasn't fully gone away and it still feels sore and achy, but I felt that it was time to start working out again. I am miserably out of shape. While jogging on the treadmill yesterday, I could hear my ankle crackle and pop like a bowl of rice krispies.
To add insult to injury, I also had to deal with a bout of illness a couple of weeks ago. Ever since I moved back to DC and have been living with my family, I've been getting sick - a lot. And whom do I hold responsible for these ailments? A young, active, germ magnet of smurf-like stature named Ella. When Ella comes home from school, she brings back with her more than just some arts & crafts project she made that day. I managed to escape the last round of pink eye and strep throat, but I didn't get so lucky with the hand, foot, and mouth disease. It sounds a little repulsive, I know, but it mostly felt like I had the flu with the added bonus of a light rash on my hands and feet and one or two canker-like sores in my mouth that disappeared after a few days.
I have developed this theory that there is a negative correlation between the size of a potential carrier of disease and the deadliness of the disease to humans. In other words, the smaller the carrier, the more lethal the disease it carries and vice-versa. In support of this theory, I have the following examples as evidence:
1. When have you heard of a very large animal such as a polar bear or humpback whale causing pandemics? Being eaten by a shark doesn't count.
2. Some medium sized animals can transmit disease to humans but cases are rare and not widespread (so far). Example: Cows and Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE), commonly known as mad-cow disease. Maybe the next time you're at the grocery store, instead of asking, "Where the beef?" you may want to inquire about tofu instead.
3. Animals that fall in the "small" category can pose relatively medium to high risk to humans. Example: birds and avian flu. You can also put small human children in this category.
4. Super small beasts = super deadly. Example: mosquitoes that spread malaria and itching. Those little buzzards can raise a lot of hell for humans.
I think I have just made a very compelling argument for my theory, don't you think?
Judging by the content of the last dozen or so entries, I should just rename this blog "A Chronicle of Boo's Afflictions, Dysfunctions, and Postulations." Actually I just did.
For $5.50 more than a round-trip Chinatown bus ticket, I get internet, an electrical outlet, pleather seats that actually recline, and a two-seater all to myself. Moreover, the bus left on time, there are no stops in Baltimore, and I didn't have to break out my nun-chucks to battle for a seat. (The typical Chinatown bus experience, especially over holiday weekends, is that no seat is guaranteed even if you book online in advance. Sometimes I have no choice but to get all Chuck Norris on people just so I don't get left behind.)
This past week I started running for the first time since I injured by ankle on June 1st. The swelling hasn't fully gone away and it still feels sore and achy, but I felt that it was time to start working out again. I am miserably out of shape. While jogging on the treadmill yesterday, I could hear my ankle crackle and pop like a bowl of rice krispies.
To add insult to injury, I also had to deal with a bout of illness a couple of weeks ago. Ever since I moved back to DC and have been living with my family, I've been getting sick - a lot. And whom do I hold responsible for these ailments? A young, active, germ magnet of smurf-like stature named Ella. When Ella comes home from school, she brings back with her more than just some arts & crafts project she made that day. I managed to escape the last round of pink eye and strep throat, but I didn't get so lucky with the hand, foot, and mouth disease. It sounds a little repulsive, I know, but it mostly felt like I had the flu with the added bonus of a light rash on my hands and feet and one or two canker-like sores in my mouth that disappeared after a few days.
I have developed this theory that there is a negative correlation between the size of a potential carrier of disease and the deadliness of the disease to humans. In other words, the smaller the carrier, the more lethal the disease it carries and vice-versa. In support of this theory, I have the following examples as evidence:
1. When have you heard of a very large animal such as a polar bear or humpback whale causing pandemics? Being eaten by a shark doesn't count.
2. Some medium sized animals can transmit disease to humans but cases are rare and not widespread (so far). Example: Cows and Bovine Spongiform Encephalopathy (BSE), commonly known as mad-cow disease. Maybe the next time you're at the grocery store, instead of asking, "Where the beef?" you may want to inquire about tofu instead.
3. Animals that fall in the "small" category can pose relatively medium to high risk to humans. Example: birds and avian flu. You can also put small human children in this category.
4. Super small beasts = super deadly. Example: mosquitoes that spread malaria and itching. Those little buzzards can raise a lot of hell for humans.
I think I have just made a very compelling argument for my theory, don't you think?
Judging by the content of the last dozen or so entries, I should just rename this blog "A Chronicle of Boo's Afflictions, Dysfunctions, and Postulations." Actually I just did.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
RICEing like a Good Asian
Every week I come up with all sorts of things to blog about, but 99% of those ideas inevitably travel out of my head and over to la la land, never to surface again. What you see on this blog is the remaining 1%: a medley of randomness. This entry is no different.
The process of blogging for me is akin to running a marathon in a bear suit with a sack of bricks attached to my ass. That is to say, slow and painful but with an occasional sprinkle of amusements to myself and others.
On the topic of slow and painful, a few days after I sprained my ankle, I made an appointment to see a doctor and take an x-ray. The morning before the appointment, I hobbled past the reception desk at my office. The receptionist noticed my limp and asked what had happened to my foot. When I told her about rolling it while playing Ultimate, she responded by saying, "I have a friend whose daughter sprained her ankle. She went to the hospital to get it checked out. She developed a blood clot from the sprain. And died."
Well, that pretty much killed the conversation. In addition to hoping that it was not a break or fracture, I added to my list of desired outcomes: not die.
Fortunately, my injury was a sprain and not a break or fracture. In addition to the usual RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) treatment, my doctor wrapped my ankle and prescribed 60 tablets of 600mg ibuprofen before sending me on my way. When I picked up my medication from the pharmacy, I almost asked the guy behind the counter if he had made a mistake by giving me pills meant for a horse.
One of these tablets can substitute for a whole meal.
My ankle injury has forced me to stop playing Ultimate and disengage from most forms of physical activity. The most physical effort I've exerted in the last couple of weeks was to scurry across the street in a deformed and panicked fashion to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic.
In addition to my awkward gait, all this inactivity has had an inflating effect on my paunch. Here's a picture of me current as of today:
I really need to get better soon.
The process of blogging for me is akin to running a marathon in a bear suit with a sack of bricks attached to my ass. That is to say, slow and painful but with an occasional sprinkle of amusements to myself and others.
On the topic of slow and painful, a few days after I sprained my ankle, I made an appointment to see a doctor and take an x-ray. The morning before the appointment, I hobbled past the reception desk at my office. The receptionist noticed my limp and asked what had happened to my foot. When I told her about rolling it while playing Ultimate, she responded by saying, "I have a friend whose daughter sprained her ankle. She went to the hospital to get it checked out. She developed a blood clot from the sprain. And died."
Well, that pretty much killed the conversation. In addition to hoping that it was not a break or fracture, I added to my list of desired outcomes: not die.
Fortunately, my injury was a sprain and not a break or fracture. In addition to the usual RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation) treatment, my doctor wrapped my ankle and prescribed 60 tablets of 600mg ibuprofen before sending me on my way. When I picked up my medication from the pharmacy, I almost asked the guy behind the counter if he had made a mistake by giving me pills meant for a horse.
One of these tablets can substitute for a whole meal.My ankle injury has forced me to stop playing Ultimate and disengage from most forms of physical activity. The most physical effort I've exerted in the last couple of weeks was to scurry across the street in a deformed and panicked fashion to avoid getting hit by oncoming traffic.
In addition to my awkward gait, all this inactivity has had an inflating effect on my paunch. Here's a picture of me current as of today:
I really need to get better soon.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Happy Birthday, Blog!
While deeply enmeshed in a seemingly futile research task for work, I suddenly realized that two years ago today, I published the first post on this infamous blog to herald my foray into grad school in Australia. This is quite the milestone for me, so of course I dropped everything I was doing in order to inform my readership of three of this happiness.
So a big YAY for the blog whose number of name changes rivals the number of entries on it!
And here's hoping to many more birthdays!
So a big YAY for the blog whose number of name changes rivals the number of entries on it!
And here's hoping to many more birthdays!
Sunday, June 01, 2008
"Just Call Me a Freakazoid"
-- says my niece whose face and body are all splotchy from a reaction to an antibiotic she was taking to get rid of strep throat. My poor little leprotic-looking niece. It's too bad; this might lower the price we can fetch for her on eBay.
Just kidding.
On to more serious matters.
Today, I "caught" a disc with my chin at club practice, which I don't recommend as an effective catching technique. And later, during a semi-final match for B league playoffs, I badly rolled my ankle in the fourth point that took me out of the rest of the game. Frustrated, I watched my team get spanked and handed our first, last, and only loss of the season, while I sat helpless on the sideline with a swollen ankle that is now the size of a golf ball. To add insult to injury, I am sunburned (where? on my face, Deb) with a prominent backwards-trucker-hat-band tan line across my forehead. It's a really hot look, let me tell you.
Limping to work this week will be so much fun!
Just kidding.
On to more serious matters.
Today, I "caught" a disc with my chin at club practice, which I don't recommend as an effective catching technique. And later, during a semi-final match for B league playoffs, I badly rolled my ankle in the fourth point that took me out of the rest of the game. Frustrated, I watched my team get spanked and handed our first, last, and only loss of the season, while I sat helpless on the sideline with a swollen ankle that is now the size of a golf ball. To add insult to injury, I am sunburned (where? on my face, Deb) with a prominent backwards-trucker-hat-band tan line across my forehead. It's a really hot look, let me tell you.
Limping to work this week will be so much fun!
Sunday, May 04, 2008
Overheard
Overheard at the Gallery Place-Chinatown metro station:
Some dorky guys in suits (probably Hill staffers) on a Saturday night--
Guy 1: You know what's out [of style]? Jean shorts.
Guy 2: Yeah, seriously, that's so uncool.
Guy 3: Well, I actually got a great deal on a pair a while ago.
Guy 1: Just because something is cheap doesn't mean it's good.
Guy 3: I got them at some store that was going out of business.
Guy 1: Was it a jean shorts store?
Guy 3: No, it was that store that got bought out by Macy's. What was it called?
Guy 2: No clue.
Guy 3: Maybe it was Marshall-Fields.
Guy 1: Don't they make cookies?
Guy 3: That's Mrs. Fields.
Guy 1: Oh, man, those cookies are so good.
Guy 3: Anyway, the shorts were a good deal.
And on and on, but I had stopped listening at that point.
Some dorky guys in suits (probably Hill staffers) on a Saturday night--
Guy 1: You know what's out [of style]? Jean shorts.
Guy 2: Yeah, seriously, that's so uncool.
Guy 3: Well, I actually got a great deal on a pair a while ago.
Guy 1: Just because something is cheap doesn't mean it's good.
Guy 3: I got them at some store that was going out of business.
Guy 1: Was it a jean shorts store?
Guy 3: No, it was that store that got bought out by Macy's. What was it called?
Guy 2: No clue.
Guy 3: Maybe it was Marshall-Fields.
Guy 1: Don't they make cookies?
Guy 3: That's Mrs. Fields.
Guy 1: Oh, man, those cookies are so good.
Guy 3: Anyway, the shorts were a good deal.
And on and on, but I had stopped listening at that point.
Friday, April 18, 2008
This is the song that never ends...
Thank you, Henry, for having so much time on your hands and sharing this with me while I am at work frantically finishing up a task before leaving for an ultimate tournament.
While listening to this, I could only think of one person who would find it as amusing, if not much more so, than I did -- Grandma D.
Perhaps this is not something I should not admit openly, but I did enjoy parts of it. What does that say about my taste in music? Don't answer that.
http://blog.wired.com/music/2008/04/a-scientific-at.html
While listening to this, I could only think of one person who would find it as amusing, if not much more so, than I did -- Grandma D.
Perhaps this is not something I should not admit openly, but I did enjoy parts of it. What does that say about my taste in music? Don't answer that.
http://blog.wired.com/music/2008/04/a-scientific-at.html
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
California Dreaming
I think recruiting guest bloggers has made me lazy about writing my own blog entries. My other excuse is that I have been away on vacation in SoCal. I must have had too much fun there because it's been a week since my return and I'm still recovering from my trip.
One thing I discovered while I was in California was that a public transportation system consisting of trains and buses really does exist in Los Angeles. Not only does it exist, I even used it! I was inexplicably as excited to ride a public bus in LA as I was to visit the friend in Santa Monica to where I had to take said bus.
I could probably spend several long paragraphs describing in gory detail my solitary journey from Pasadena to Santa Monica, but my bed is calling. To those even remotely curious however, I will report that to get from downtown LA to Santa Monica by bus is not exactly the most efficient method - it takes close to two hours - but the up side is that it's really cheap. It costs less than $2 full fare; or 30 cents for a transfer if you connect to it from a train; or in my case, free because the fare machine was broken. That is assuming, however, that you can figure out which bus to take to begin with (I spent nearly 15 minutes wheeling my luggage up and down the bus terminal in downtown in search of the appropriate bus. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers).
Another benefit of riding a public bus - once you're on the right one - is that you might get a friendly driver named Ron who, incidentally, bears a striking resemblance to the Baldwin brothers. Homeboy kept my ears busy for an hour and forty-two minutes. When he found out that I live in DC, our conversation immediately veered toward the topic of politics - because physical proximity to Congressional buildings automatically makes you a political pundit. Clearly.
At times, Ron became so impassioned by what he was saying to me that he spent more time looking at me than at the road. I did my best to stay brave during these moments. His talking and my fearing for my life kept me from succumbing to the urge to nap during the ride. I rode bus 337 to Santa Monica Boulevard, the final stop, and by the end had formed such an attachment to Ron that I felt sad to leave him.
I need to end this entry before I really turn up the cheese, but before I do, below is a photo snapped right before my plane descended into LAX airport. Despite the toxic smog, endless sprawl, and road rage-inducing traffic, I still feel a fondness for LA and SoCal.
One thing I discovered while I was in California was that a public transportation system consisting of trains and buses really does exist in Los Angeles. Not only does it exist, I even used it! I was inexplicably as excited to ride a public bus in LA as I was to visit the friend in Santa Monica to where I had to take said bus.
I could probably spend several long paragraphs describing in gory detail my solitary journey from Pasadena to Santa Monica, but my bed is calling. To those even remotely curious however, I will report that to get from downtown LA to Santa Monica by bus is not exactly the most efficient method - it takes close to two hours - but the up side is that it's really cheap. It costs less than $2 full fare; or 30 cents for a transfer if you connect to it from a train; or in my case, free because the fare machine was broken. That is assuming, however, that you can figure out which bus to take to begin with (I spent nearly 15 minutes wheeling my luggage up and down the bus terminal in downtown in search of the appropriate bus. Thank goodness for the kindness of strangers).
Another benefit of riding a public bus - once you're on the right one - is that you might get a friendly driver named Ron who, incidentally, bears a striking resemblance to the Baldwin brothers. Homeboy kept my ears busy for an hour and forty-two minutes. When he found out that I live in DC, our conversation immediately veered toward the topic of politics - because physical proximity to Congressional buildings automatically makes you a political pundit. Clearly.
At times, Ron became so impassioned by what he was saying to me that he spent more time looking at me than at the road. I did my best to stay brave during these moments. His talking and my fearing for my life kept me from succumbing to the urge to nap during the ride. I rode bus 337 to Santa Monica Boulevard, the final stop, and by the end had formed such an attachment to Ron that I felt sad to leave him.
I need to end this entry before I really turn up the cheese, but before I do, below is a photo snapped right before my plane descended into LAX airport. Despite the toxic smog, endless sprawl, and road rage-inducing traffic, I still feel a fondness for LA and SoCal.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Special Guest Blogger
A couple of days ago, while telling a friend about my blogger's block, I came up with the idea of guest blog entries. Sometimes I become bored with my own writing. And if I get bored with my writing maybe the readers of this blog do too. So I asked this friend, or "Grandma" as she's known to some, to fill in for this month and she graciously humored my request. Enjoy and feel free to submit comments.
Grandma's entry:
"Perhaps this entry should be anonymous, as it describes in detail my descent into a life of crime. The story begins innocently enough when I decided to start biking to work. It’s a leisurely 1.5 mile commute, and there’s a bike rack right by my building. What I’ve noticed during my almost 2 years of parking there is that on this rack there is one bike that hasn’t moved. At first I noticed it collecting dust. Then one day, I noticed that half the rear fender had broken off. Later the seat was stolen. And still this bike hasn’t moved. Not an inch. I’m beginning to think no one is using this bike. Now normally this wouldn’t bother me, except the bike rack is getting pretty crowded, and this unused bike is taking up valuable real estate. I would move it myself except for the fact that the only thing of any value on this bicycle is the Kryptonite U-lock attaching it securely to the rack. (I wish I had a lock like that when my first bike was stolen from that very same rack).
Then, today, I had a moment of brilliance. I took a closer look at that U-lock and noticed that it has one of those circular key-holes, the kind that apparently are able to be picked with no more than a BiC pen. So I popped open a BiC pen and went down to the bike rack. This task was not as easy as the internet makes it appear. First, the pen wasn’t exactly the right diameter, so I stretched it out with a key and jammed it in. Then, all you’re supposed to have to do is twist, and the lock will come undone. The pen twisted, but the lock didn’t open. So my career as a master criminal ended as soon as it began. This is just as well, given that I went out in broad daylight and I’m pretty sure there would have been several eye-witnesses to my attempted theft. I left the pen in the lock, in hopes that a criminal more talented than I might hit the jackpot."
Added bonus video (also courtesy of Grandma): Do the Test
Grandma's entry:
"Perhaps this entry should be anonymous, as it describes in detail my descent into a life of crime. The story begins innocently enough when I decided to start biking to work. It’s a leisurely 1.5 mile commute, and there’s a bike rack right by my building. What I’ve noticed during my almost 2 years of parking there is that on this rack there is one bike that hasn’t moved. At first I noticed it collecting dust. Then one day, I noticed that half the rear fender had broken off. Later the seat was stolen. And still this bike hasn’t moved. Not an inch. I’m beginning to think no one is using this bike. Now normally this wouldn’t bother me, except the bike rack is getting pretty crowded, and this unused bike is taking up valuable real estate. I would move it myself except for the fact that the only thing of any value on this bicycle is the Kryptonite U-lock attaching it securely to the rack. (I wish I had a lock like that when my first bike was stolen from that very same rack).
Then, today, I had a moment of brilliance. I took a closer look at that U-lock and noticed that it has one of those circular key-holes, the kind that apparently are able to be picked with no more than a BiC pen. So I popped open a BiC pen and went down to the bike rack. This task was not as easy as the internet makes it appear. First, the pen wasn’t exactly the right diameter, so I stretched it out with a key and jammed it in. Then, all you’re supposed to have to do is twist, and the lock will come undone. The pen twisted, but the lock didn’t open. So my career as a master criminal ended as soon as it began. This is just as well, given that I went out in broad daylight and I’m pretty sure there would have been several eye-witnesses to my attempted theft. I left the pen in the lock, in hopes that a criminal more talented than I might hit the jackpot."
Added bonus video (also courtesy of Grandma): Do the Test
Thursday, February 28, 2008
I Live for Stupid News
Inspiration for writing an original blog entry has been lacking of late. Until I get my writing mojo back, I can't resist sharing two news clips that I read this morning that brought immense joy to my commute to work.
From the Express, February 28, 2008:
It's All Fun and Games Until the Golf Course Needs Resodding
The mayor of Arlington, Ore., who once stripped down to her underwear and posed on a fire truck, has been stripped of her office. Citizens voted narrowly Monday to recall Carmen Kontur-Gronquist, effective Tuesday. She said the pictures of her were taken for use in a fitness contest, but a relative posted them on MySpace in hopes they would improve the social life of the single mother. They predated her election, but she said she saw no reason to take them off the site. Opponents said it wasn't fitting for the mayor to be depicted so. They said they also disagreed with her on issues about the local golf course.
Don't Mess with The Guy with the Spork
Police in Anchorage, Alaska, have arrested a man suspected of committing a robbery with a spork. Four parallel scratches on the robbery victim's side have led police to believe that the spoon and fork hybrid, rather than a knife, was used in the attack.
I love the fact that a spork was used in a robbery. What I want to know is, was it made of plastic or metal? I have only seen plastic sporks. Where can I acquire a stainless steel set?
Spork. It's one of my favorite words and it just might be my favorite eating utensil. It's also my new poking implement of choice.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
It's Valentine's Day. Whoopee.
Credit: Nick Galifianakis for The Washington Post Photo If s/he's not hot then why bother? Try and convince this shallow cynic otherwise. The comments section of this blog has been dead for months.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Mews of the Weird
For the past couple of months, I've been saving news clips that I enjoyed reading on my morning commute. After reviewing some of these articles, I noticed a theme: I like snuggly animals. And exotic poop.
Examples:
Examples:
Tabby Gracie Mae's odyssey ended happily after she crawled into her owner's suitcase, went through an airport X-ray machine, was loaded onto a plane, thrown onto a baggage belt and mistakenly picked up far from home. The pet was returned by a stranger who went home with the wrong bag. "I went to unpack and saw it wasn't my suitcase," said Rob Carter. "A kitten jumped out and ran under the bed. I screamed like a little girl."-- January 24, 2008
Japanese scientists say they've used genetic engineering to create mice that show no fear of felines, a development that may shed new light on the nature of fear itself. Scientists at Tokyo University say they were able to successfully switch off a mouse's instinct to cower at the smell or presence of cats -- showing that fear is genetically hardwired. "Mice are naturally terrified of cats and usually panic or flee at the smell of one. But mice with certain nasal cells removed through genetic engineering didn't display any fear," said team leader Ko Kobayakawa. In his experiment, the genetically altered mice approached cats and even snuggled up to them. -- December 18, 2007
Who wouldn't want one of these kitties?
Not only are these cats clones -- they are clones that glow in the dark. Technically, says South Korea's Ministry of Science and Technology, they have a fluorescence protein gene that causes them to glow under ultraviolet beams. The technology could help develop treatments for human genetic diseases. -- December 14, 2007
Stumped about what to give that special someone? How about rhino dung? The International Rhino Foundation is auctioning separately on eBay four pieces from the endangered species and will use the proceeds to fund conservation efforts. The pieces come from four of the five types of rhino: white, black, Indian and Sumatran. The Javan rhino is so rare, a sample could not be collected. Each piece is mounted in a clear trophy case and marked with the type of rhino that produced it. -- December 7, 2007
Addendum: This is a little gem that Paul P. sent me this morning: Click here.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
Green Eggs & Spam
A while back, someone named Ann at my company sent an e-mail with a question addressed to "Timekeeping & WebET Training." Due to some glitch, the message ended up in the e-mail box of every single employee.
Within a four minute period, while I was on the phone with a client, a flurry of e-mail responses popped up in my inbox. I stared at the computer screen, completely mesmerized. It was like watching a bag of popcorn self-inflate in a microwave.
The following is a sequence of messages (in verbatim) in response to the original e-mail**:
Within a four minute period, while I was on the phone with a client, a flurry of e-mail responses popped up in my inbox. I stared at the computer screen, completely mesmerized. It was like watching a bag of popcorn self-inflate in a microwave.
The following is a sequence of messages (in verbatim) in response to the original e-mail**:
I'm not in that section, and I cannot answer any of your questions. Sorry…
'Not wanting to be left out' Laura (9:59am):
I also received this email by mistake and cannot answer your question.
'Confident that he can't help' Duane (10:00am):
I'm sure I'm not the person you need to direct this to.
'Replies to all to tell everyone not to reply to all' Lon (10:01am):
Stop replying to all. This message should not have been sent to this list. All staff should disregard.
'Likes to state the obvious' Jeannie (10:01am):
For some reason, when you sent this to Timekeeping and Training - it goes to everyone! No idea why!
'Not wanting to be outdone by Lon' Roger (10:02am):
To All:
Ignore and DO NOT RESPOND to the email originating from Ann or this email that you are reading.'Not wanting to be left out' Laura (9:59am):
I also received this email by mistake and cannot answer your question.
'Confident that he can't help' Duane (10:00am):
I'm sure I'm not the person you need to direct this to.
'Replies to all to tell everyone not to reply to all' Lon (10:01am):
Stop replying to all. This message should not have been sent to this list. All staff should disregard.
'Likes to state the obvious' Jeannie (10:01am):
For some reason, when you sent this to Timekeeping and Training - it goes to everyone! No idea why!
'Not wanting to be outdone by Lon' Roger (10:02am):
To All:
'Clueless and probably hates his job' Nicholas (10:02am):
?
**Note: I don't actually know who any of these people are. It's a big company.
?
**Note: I don't actually know who any of these people are. It's a big company.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
A little something to lighten the mood
This got a chuckle out of me today. It reminded me of the brain teasers I used to do in middle school.
Labyrinth Puzzle
Source: http://xkcd.com/246/
Source: http://xkcd.com/246/Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Only 50 more years to retirement
The past couple of days have been challenging for me at work. It has been somewhat pathetic to realize that the biggest threat to my job security right now is my own incompetence. So in that spirit, here's a little news story that will either make you feel better about yourself, or if you're like me, feel some empathy for this schmuck of a buffoon of a boob:
"A man in Grand Rapids, Mich., who hid knives in his pants to try to steal them from a store tripped while fleeing and stabbed himself in the abdomen, police said."-- Reported in the Express on Jan 9, 2008
Sunday, January 06, 2008
In this house, everyone's a comic
Quotes of the Week:
"I'm gonna get you drunk in my hump. My lovely lady humps. Check it out, girl!" -- My niece, singing her rendition of "My Humps" while wriggling and slapping her diapered butt in my face. Kids these days are scary.
"Close, but no potatoes." -- My sister, while trying to fit two puzzle pieces together.
Brother-in-law: "Would you be able to tell that you were kissing a chimp while blindfolded?"
Sister: "You mean, would I be able to tell the difference between you and a chimp? No."
Zing!
Earlier tonight while we were all sitting in the dining room together, the phone rang, and I was volunteered to retrieve the phone and answer it. I hate answering any phone other than my cell phone because I know it is NEVER for me. In fact, calls to my cell phone often aren't for me either.
The conversation went as follows:
Me: "Hello?"
Caller: "Hi, how are you?"
I hate it when people either don't identify themselves immediately and just assume that a) they know who you are; or b) you know who they are.
Me: "Ah... Good."
Caller: "Wonderful! Is your mommy home?"
Whoa. Who the hell was this creepy person and why was he cooing at me?
Me: "Uh... I... my.... who is this?"
I walked back into the dining room.
Caller: "It's Ebby!"
Me: "Ebby?"
Caller: "Ebby!"
I shot desperate looks at both my sister and Nathaniel. Thankfully, there was a look of recognition from both of them. I practically threw the phone at Nathaniel, I was so anxious to get rid of it. Apparently, Ebby thought I was Ella (who is five years old).
That might be the last time I answer that phone. Ever.
"I'm gonna get you drunk in my hump. My lovely lady humps. Check it out, girl!" -- My niece, singing her rendition of "My Humps" while wriggling and slapping her diapered butt in my face. Kids these days are scary.
"Close, but no potatoes." -- My sister, while trying to fit two puzzle pieces together.
Brother-in-law: "Would you be able to tell that you were kissing a chimp while blindfolded?"
Sister: "You mean, would I be able to tell the difference between you and a chimp? No."
Zing!
Earlier tonight while we were all sitting in the dining room together, the phone rang, and I was volunteered to retrieve the phone and answer it. I hate answering any phone other than my cell phone because I know it is NEVER for me. In fact, calls to my cell phone often aren't for me either.
The conversation went as follows:
Me: "Hello?"
Caller: "Hi, how are you?"
I hate it when people either don't identify themselves immediately and just assume that a) they know who you are; or b) you know who they are.
Me: "Ah... Good."
Caller: "Wonderful! Is your mommy home?"
Whoa. Who the hell was this creepy person and why was he cooing at me?
Me: "Uh... I... my.... who is this?"
I walked back into the dining room.
Caller: "It's Ebby!"
Me: "Ebby?"
Caller: "Ebby!"
I shot desperate looks at both my sister and Nathaniel. Thankfully, there was a look of recognition from both of them. I practically threw the phone at Nathaniel, I was so anxious to get rid of it. Apparently, Ebby thought I was Ella (who is five years old).
That might be the last time I answer that phone. Ever.
Monday, December 24, 2007
Ho! Ho! Huh?
DC is an eerie town during the holidays. Closed are the stores, deserted are the streets. Even my family left for the other coast, leaving me with an empty house, a senile cat, and silence for a week.
Did I weep about my sad existence when they left? No, I did not. This morning, I donned a pair of fancy aviator shades, inserted a Madonna cd in the stereo, and pranced around the house, squawking into my toothbrush, pant-less with my underwear on my head. The cat really got a show while waiting to be fed.
And then I got dressed and went to work.
You can't say that I don't make the best of situations.
Happy Holidays!
Did I weep about my sad existence when they left? No, I did not. This morning, I donned a pair of fancy aviator shades, inserted a Madonna cd in the stereo, and pranced around the house, squawking into my toothbrush, pant-less with my underwear on my head. The cat really got a show while waiting to be fed.
And then I got dressed and went to work.
You can't say that I don't make the best of situations.
Happy Holidays!
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