Friday, November 25, 2005

Wine + Laptop = No Blogging

SOMEONE spilled a glass of wine on my laptop at the party last Saturday which means my blogging is limited.

Paul: Does anyone want to use my laptop?

A-L: I'd like to.

Paul: You can use it until I go to bed.

A-L: When are you going to bed?

Paul: In 15 minutes.

Oh good. Well, that's all I have time for. Good night.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Alpha Beta

Telephone conversation with 'the Irma':

Irma: Hi, I was just thinking about you so I thought I'd call. It's such nice weather outside. It's 75 degrees, and your dad left to go to Chicago for RSNA, and it's supposed to be really cold there. Huge storms this weekend. So I've just been out in the yard, and am going to relax and read the paper. You'll never guess who we saw the other day at Alpha Beta.

A-L: Alpha Beta closed in 1983. And then it became Lucky's, and then Ralphs, and now it's Albertsons, I think.

Irma: Well, you'll never guess who we saw at Alpha Beta. Never! Nancy. We saw Nancy.

A-L: I know 133 people named Nancy, none of whom have been to Alpha Beta since in closed in 1983. Which one did you see?

Irma: Nancy Meher. We stood and talked to her at the front of the store. And then we saw Marcia Larsson. Do you remember her? The tall blonde lady from church?

A-L: Was she also sucked back in time to 1983 for a quick trip to Alpha Beta to pick up a case of Tab?

Irma: You know Marcia, the tall blonde lady.

A-L: Uh huh.

Irma: And then we went around the corner to the Salvation Army thrift store because your dad wanted to buy a purse to carry some tools in. He needed something small and thought an old purse would do the trick. He ended up buying a shaving kit from Rite Aid and using that, but everything in the Salvation Army was 50% off and they even gave us a senior citizen discount on the cookie plate that I bought.

A-L: Do you get a commission for dropping store names into conversation?

Irma: Isn't that funny that we got 50% off AND a senior discount?

A-L: Yes, that's the funniest part of this entire story.

White Space Be Gone

The white space is finally gone. But so are all the customisations (yes, it's a word) that flatmate Paul helped me create. It will take a while to get this looking ok, but bear with me. (insert cartoon of cute little bear)

Fleas

Last Sunday -

A-L: I'm taking Kitty to the vet tomorrow. I don't think she knows yet.

Paul: How are you taking her there?

A-L: In my handbag. Actually, I might phone them to see if they have a cat carrier I can use.

Paul: Will you put a blanket in there so she's comfortable?

A-L: Yeah, I guess so. But the vet is a block and half away, and I don't think a blanket will make up for the fact that she's confined in a box.

After the vet appointment -

A-L: Let's return her. She has fleas. It's November, it's 3 degrees outside and the cat has fleas. I thought they only lived near the equator. I can see the Arctic Circle from my bedroom window, and my cat has fleas. Don't they die after Labor Day?

Paul: Presumably the cat's fur keeps the fleas warm.

A-L: Don't get smart with me. I didn't sign up for this deal. Now I have to medicate her, fumigate the house, and wash all the bedding.

Paul: What do you mean you didn't 'sign up for this deal.' You stole that cat.

A-L: I didn't know she had fleas. This changes everything.

Paul: Don't be so dramatic.

A-L: What's a blog without drama? You have to keep the readers coming back.

Thursday

Conversation on Tuesday evening:

Paul: What are you doing on Thursday?

A-L: I don't know. I don't have any plans. Why do you ask?

Paul: Because it's Thanksgiving.

A-L: Oh yeah.

Paul: You should have a turkey sandwich.

A-L: Why didn't I think of that?

Bird Flu

I have bird flu. Not THE bird flu, but a minor strain. Perhaps finch flu. I've been feverish and head-achey and stuffed up for three days.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Globalisation

A-L to guy in the queue: I didn't cut in front of you did I?

Guy: No, no. I wasn't in the queue.

A-L: Are you American?

Guy: No, I'm Dutch, but I grew up in New York and have spent a lot of time in London, and I have American flatmates, so I think I've picked up some of their accent.

A-L: You gotta watch out for those Americans.

Guy: I know.

Super-cool Friend of Guy: What are saying?

Guy to S-CFofG: Oh, she was just saying that I sound American, so I was saying that I must have picked it up from my flatmates.

S-CFofG to Guy: Yeah, that's globalisation for you.

A-L to herself: No, globalisation is that you're buying Doritos on Dundas Street in Edinburgh.

Overheard

Today:

"If there's one thing I hate more than amateur theatre, it's children's amateur theatre."

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

When Does A Party Really Begin

Martin Little posed a good question. What time does the party start? (Ted's Birthday party, that is.) If I had sent out invitations I would have said 8ish. But if you say 8ish, people show up at 10:30ish. And if you say 9ish, they'll arrive at 10:45ish. But if you want people to arrive at 9:30ish, because you're looking forward to seeing everyone, you'd have to say 7:15ish on the invitation, and then people would think dinner was involved. No sit-down dinner. Arrive when you like, the earlier the better.

Ted's Birthday

Polish flatmate Ted will be 31 on Saturday, 19th of November. Which is why this conversation took place:

A-L: What should we get Ted for his birthday?

Paul: Deodorant.

A-L: That's not very nice.

Paul: That's what he got me for my birthday.

A-L: Oh yeah, but that was sweet.

Paul: What??

A-L: Well, he had just moved in with us, he was new to the country, he was working 60 hours a week, and he wanted to buy you a present, so he got you something you could use. Now that we've turned him into a capitalist pig he'll never again give sweet, simple presents.

Paul: What did he give you for your birthday?

A-L: Nothing. Why don't we give the bastard back the deodorant he gave you.

Paul: I think it's probably enough of a gift that we're throwing him a birthday party on Saturday (to which Martin Little is invited, if you're reading this).

A-L: Let's get one thing straight: we are throwing a party, and it happens to be on Ted's birthday, but it is not a birthday party for Ted.

Paul: You've changed your tune.

A-L: Because you reminded me that he didn't get me anything for my birthday. And, it's your job to keep Ted away from the stereo on Saturday night.

Paul: Is that because he's discovered Meatloaf?

A-L: Yes, I would do anything to never hear Meatloaf again, especially at my belated birthday party.

Paul: Oh, now it's your birthday party.

A-L: Well, the 11th of December is my half birthday.

Paul: I think people stop celebrating half birthdays when they're 7.

A-L: Maybe in Britain. But there's a strong history of lavishly celebrated half birthdays in the U.S. Especially if your birthday falls at an inopportune time, such as June, when people are still recovering (emotionally and financially) from all those birthday parties the Pisceans threw themselves three months back.

Paul: You know, Ted said something to me the other day about "Dolly Parton", "party", "Saturday" and "broken". Do you have any idea what he's talking about?

A-L: I think he meant to say, "I've hidden A-L's Dolly Parton CD. Tell her it's broken."

Saturday, November 12, 2005

The Other One

A-L: Paul, can you help me fix something on my blog.

Paul: Are you trying to trick me into looking at photos of your nieces?

A-L: Yes.

Paul: Fine.

A-L: Maria just sent these through.

Paul: By 'Maria' do you mean 'Mother Romero'?

A-L: Yes.

Paul: Ohmigod. Annais is huge.

A-L: She is. She's going to be very tall. Father Romero is 6'3", I think. Or is it 6'2"?

Paul: Annais doesn't look like Aila did when she was a baby, does she?

A-L: Actually, the other one looks just like Aila did when she was a baby.

Paul: Did you just refer to Annais as 'the other one'?

A-L: No. You can't prove that I did.

Paul: You've posted it to your blog.

A-L: Well, she's the second baby. It's ok to call her 'the other one'. I don't even remember when she was born. Was it this year, or last?

Paul: That's terrible. What if the other one finds out?

A-L: Well, then I'll just tell her the story of the time my mom called me by the dog's name, and then corrected herself by calling me by my dad's name, followed by 'Maria'. And my friend Inga, the youngest of three girls was known as Mhairi-Karen-Inga. Which, all things considered, is a much better name than Muffin-Peter-Maria.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Kitten Talk

A-L to Kitty: "You're a bad Kitty."

Paul to A-L: "Don't say that to her. You'll give her a complex."

A-L to Paul: "No I won't. She doesn't know what I'm saying, she just listens to my tone of voice."

Paul to A-L: "She doesn't listen to you."

A-L to Kitty: "That's why you're a baaaaaaaaaaad Kitty."

Paul to A-L: "YOU'RE a baaaaaad Kitty."

A-L to Paul: "I wonder why no one reads my blog."

German Class

So there I was, in German class about three weeks ago, when the substitute teacher asked us to introduce people in the class. So she asked Grant who he could introduce.

In German (Auf Deutsch, bitte):

Grant: "I can introduce Anna-Lisa."

Substitute Teacher: "Great. What can you reveal about her that will shock and disturb the other students?"

Grant: "Anna-Lisa is American."

A hush falls over the room.

Judith gasped: "I had no idea you were American."

Neil to Alistair: "She's American? But she looks normal."

Alistair to Neil: "No she doesn't."

Grant: "And her mother is Finnish." (And the Russians killed her mother's father and brother. And her mom wants the Russians to give her Arctic port back.)

Judith: "That's so strange Anna-Lisa, because you sound Scottish when you speak German."

Oh good.

Belated Birthday Greetings...

...going out to Tara-D, formerly 'The Elk', on her 30th, which was Sunday. Happy Birthday.

Friday, November 04, 2005

Did you know...

...that Monica Lewinsky is studying Psychology at the London School of Economics? I haven't confirmed the report.

Ornamental Kittens

A-L: Paul, I saw the cutest kitten in the entire world on my walk home. It was on the kitchen counter of a basement flat, and it was tiny and cute like a little Christmas ornament kitten, and it waved at me, I think.

Paul: What?

A-L: It was a tabby with white patches and it was so cute and tiny. Maybe I should get a playmate for Kitty.

Paul: What?

A-L: She needs a playmate. Kitty is lonely during the day. I should adopt another kitten for her.

Paul: Don't you mean 'steal' another kitten?

A-L: What?

Paul: You want to get Kitty a kitten?

A-L: Yes, this tiny kitten that I saw was so cute. It looked like a little Christmas ornament.

Paul: And then when the ornament grows up will you get it a kitten of its own?

A-L: Maybe. It will want a playmate. And something to nurture. When Mr. Kitty was about 6 months old I adopted Puppy from the humane society and Mr. Kitty thought he was Puppy's mom. He used to clean him and look out for him. It was very sweet.

Paul: It sounds like a vicious circle.

A-L: Do you mean vicious cycle?

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

How pathetic....

...has this blog has become? I admit, I've neglected it. It's pathetic. Bring on the hate mail. Bring it on. Michelle S., Sister Maria, Cousin Amy, Cousin-in-law Gary, I dare you! I dare you. I am now a very high-powered (by Gatorade) publishing assistant troll, and I simply don't have time to keep up this site. So, it's been neglected. I apologize. And you're probably not even reading this because it's been so long since I last wrote. Or blogged, as they blog, or say. So, here it is. I'm back. Look who's back, back again, shady's back. (Dear Peter, that is a reference to an Eminem song. He's a wrapper, not a candy.)
 
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