Showing posts with label nothing on my mind. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nothing on my mind. Show all posts

Monday, November 28, 2011

Oh Just Some Stuff

Boy has it been a long time, yes it has. I'm no longer committed to this blog, so every post from now on will start with my recognizing that this post is an anomaly and I feel bad that I have nothing interesting to say anymore. As the years go by, my boring life is now so boring I can't even make stuff up to feel like interesting things are happening. Mostly I think about finding the perfect boots, but that's not going to happen, which is good, because then there would be truly nothing to think about.

Herewith some recent news items that are quite significant if you have nothing better to do for the next minute of your life:

A Colombian woman in the husband's class opened a fortune cookie during their annual "pot luck but no turkey please" Thanksgiving feast and shouted angrily, "There's paper in mine!"

The husband seems to have a bunch of bites (but really it's hard to tell due to his being fairly mole-y by nature) and has spent the last 3 1/2 hours (I am not exaggerating, the man is very focused) hunting for bed bugs. He hasn't found any, which is why I'm brave enough to write this. He did gather a whole bunch of gross shit on pieces of tape that we gazed at through a variety of magnifiers, loops and light tables, comparing the teensy crap to photos in books and websites. All are completely unidentifiable, but definitely none are bed bugs, which is all that matters. He then spent the next hour (so far, it's not over) vacuuming thoroughly in and around the bed. He is vacuuming inside the bedside books, photo albums and magazines (there are a lot) as I write this.

A man has been sleeping in the roof vestibule the past couple of nights. He has a white down blanket and a bottle of red wine.

About a week ago a slightly crazy woman got locked out of her apartment (or wandered into our hallway from somewhere else) and sat there for hours until she peed herself silly. After she left, a neighbor covered the area in baking soda, thankfully. The last guy who did that didn't make it through the ordeal alive. Sad.

I got my hair cut, so if you don't recognize me, it's because I left about 30 pounds of hair on Michael's floor. According to co-workers I look like a flapper. Or maybe they said call girl. Not sure what they said, I was too busy basking in the compliments about how beautiful and young I look.

Hope you are getting crazy good deals during this patriotic shopping season, which will keep the economy humming, because if it's good for giant stores and hoarders, it's good for Jesus. Or something like that.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Some Stuff

As the five readers I have left might have noticed, I haven't been posting too much of late. I haven't been inspired, mourning the loss of my baby who has abandoned the nest and gone south for the winter. It's quite disorienting.

Some interesting things might have happened worthy of relating, but now I can't remember them. I'll try.

Today I was sitting in the outdoor part of a restaurant on the very west side, when an M8 bus went by and the bus driver leaned out the window and shouted "hello" to me and waved furiously. That he 1) knew who I was, and 2) recognized me from so far away, was exciting. My lunch companion was duly impressed. Now I need to learn his name so we can move this relationship to the next level.

Last Saturday evening, if you were wondering where all the white people went, I found them at the Stone Street Oyster festival. Seriously. All white. Like the suburbs somewhere in the 1950's. Sorry I have no photos, it was so crowded I couldn't move my arms.

After escaping from that oyster nightmare, I ran into the Wall Street sit in, and marched with them for a while and ate one of their peanut butter sandwiches. First time I've had white bread in about 20 years. Ran into some of my son's ex-high school friends, one of whom had organized a couple dozen people and some buses from Ohio to attend. She's my hero.

Last week I saw former President Al Gore give his 24th hour presentation of his new slideshow. Powerful stuff. Claimed that over 8 million people around the world saw it, but I have yet to find one of them who wasn't with me in that auditorium. If you care one little bit about our earth, please watch the video. It's an hour long, but well worth the time. Step two is work toward not having nightmares of alternating flooding and drought.

Video streaming by Ustream

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Pennies and Nickels

Creme de Cocoa

When at the racetrack, one spends several hours thinking about money. How much to wager with each race, how much you won, how much you lost, how much life costs, how a big win could change everything. And so on. Do you tip the waitress the full 20% even when the food is tasteless and the drinks watered down to practically their bare essentials? And so on.

While negotiating the final distribution of the dinner bill, and contemplating the having and not having of cash, recently unemployed but with a life nicer than most of us will ever know, Bill meditated for a while on the concept of inflation and how it's surprising that we haven't yet rid ourselves of small denominations such as pennies and nickels. We nodded and walked downstairs to experience the last three races outside, and not through a big glass window complimented by a close up on a tv screen.

Minutes later I went to the window to make the next bet, which left me looking through my wallet for forty cents. I came up with a quarter and a dime, but couldn't find a nickel. I put another dime on the counter and the woman said, "We don't do nickels. Or pennies." It made all those dimes I had been getting all night for change make sense, and easily gave her four dimes instead. Bill's desire had come true, and so quickly.

The husband, reflecting on the properties of a nickel, said that when nickels gather in his pocket they form a wad the size of a golf ball, swinging around, changing his rhythm, while dimes stay neatly aligned, causing no pain.

I would miss nickels and pennies. I think rounding up and down would drive me crazy and my excel-related ocd would careen out of control.