This is an open letter to the family that lives off the 101 on the Central Coast of California, between Gonzales and Soledad.
I saw your nativity scene yesterday. I know it's not lit up, but it's out. And still set up in the typical nativity configuration. I was going about 65 mph, so I couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like the cradle was empty. Did a Groundhog steal the plastic Christ Child? Or are you rotating the contents of the cradle to suit the holiday? I know where you can get a cute little leprechaun. That should tide you over until Easter, which falls on April 12th this year.
What you could do, is celebrate the phases of Jesus's life, starting with the Nativity, and culminating with the resurrection. I attended an Easter brunch a few years ago where my friends had rigged up a rising Jesus in the doorway adjoining the kitchen and living room. These are the supplies you'll need to set up an outdoor equivalent:
1. A Jesus figure. Think lawn ornament size. (Here's a link to a Jesus Statue Catalog.)
2. A rope and pulley system. (There's a helpful diagram here.)
3. Someone who can be the resurrector. (ie: the puller of the pulley.)
4. Easter brunch!
I'll be heading back up North on the 101 next week. I'll stop in and discuss the options with you.
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Human Rights in South Central L.A., or The Olsen Twins
Peter the Greek: Wow, that documentary we just saw (Crips and Bloods: Made in America) was incredible. It's unconscionable that this urban warfare is going on so close to the media epicenter that is Los Angeles, and yet it's barely covered.
A-L: Too right, as the Scots would say.
P the G: How does this escape the attention of mainstream media? It's happening in their backyard.
A-L: It's not that they don't know about it, it's just that it doesn't sell magazines. We need to get the Olsen twins involved for People Magazine to cover it.
P the G: I don't think the Olsen twins are into gang warfare. That doesn't seem like their bag.
A-L: Oh, maybe you're on to something. They could date rival gang members, and then facilitate a truce. People Magazine would love that. And then Americans in dentist offices across the country would know about the conflict.
P the G: That could work, except one of the twins is missing.
A-L: Which one?
P the G: Uh, I can't remember their names.
A-L: I don't believe you.
P the G: Ok, it's Ashley. She's withdrawn a bit. Mary Kate is the one who's totally in the spotlight, and used to hang out with Paris Hilton, et al.
A-L: So, what's the next step?
P the G: In getting Ashley back into the spotlight?
A-L: No, in getting the Olsen twins to make people aware of the situation, specifically the origins of the gang rivalry in South Central, and working towards a solution.
P the G: Pass.
A-L: Too right, as the Scots would say.
P the G: How does this escape the attention of mainstream media? It's happening in their backyard.
A-L: It's not that they don't know about it, it's just that it doesn't sell magazines. We need to get the Olsen twins involved for People Magazine to cover it.
P the G: I don't think the Olsen twins are into gang warfare. That doesn't seem like their bag.
A-L: Oh, maybe you're on to something. They could date rival gang members, and then facilitate a truce. People Magazine would love that. And then Americans in dentist offices across the country would know about the conflict.
P the G: That could work, except one of the twins is missing.
A-L: Which one?
P the G: Uh, I can't remember their names.
A-L: I don't believe you.
P the G: Ok, it's Ashley. She's withdrawn a bit. Mary Kate is the one who's totally in the spotlight, and used to hang out with Paris Hilton, et al.
A-L: So, what's the next step?
P the G: In getting Ashley back into the spotlight?
A-L: No, in getting the Olsen twins to make people aware of the situation, specifically the origins of the gang rivalry in South Central, and working towards a solution.
P the G: Pass.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
In Training
Cousin Tina: Hi, have you been training for the upcoming ride?
A-L: Of course.
Cousin Tina: What have you been doing?
A-L: I ate two slices of that delicious pumpkin bread you made, to practice getting my blood sugar up.
Cousin Tina: And?
A-L: And right now I'm eating a banana, which has a lot of potassium. Right?
Cousin Tina: Yes, that's right. What else have you done?
A-L: I watched Cousin Daniel do ski jumping on the Wii. That was stressful. But he did well.
Cousin Tina: Umm, how many miles have you ridden?
A-L: I drove to the San Francisco Airport and back yesterday. Does that count?
Cousin Tina: Not if you were in the Camry. Are you planning to ride your bike today?
A-L: Is this the time for me to mention that I don't own a bike?
A-L: Of course.
Cousin Tina: What have you been doing?
A-L: I ate two slices of that delicious pumpkin bread you made, to practice getting my blood sugar up.
Cousin Tina: And?
A-L: And right now I'm eating a banana, which has a lot of potassium. Right?
Cousin Tina: Yes, that's right. What else have you done?
A-L: I watched Cousin Daniel do ski jumping on the Wii. That was stressful. But he did well.
Cousin Tina: Umm, how many miles have you ridden?
A-L: I drove to the San Francisco Airport and back yesterday. Does that count?
Cousin Tina: Not if you were in the Camry. Are you planning to ride your bike today?
A-L: Is this the time for me to mention that I don't own a bike?
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Job Counselor
Kitty: Do you have a job yet?
A-L: No, not yet.
Kitty: How about now?
A-L: Nope. Do you?
Kitty: Paul got me hooked up with a gig doing stress tests on snowboard goggle boxes. It's boring, but it's steady work and I get free snowboarding gear.
A-L: Aren't you a skier?
Kitty: No, I'm a cat. I got a call from GW the other day. Their apartment has a mouse infestation, and he wanted me to come round and have a look. I gave him a quote over the phone, and he hung up on me.
A-L: That's surprising, I think.
Kitty: He wanted fast service, and I was going to put my best man on the job. I've trained Ted to catch mice bare-handed. He's a natural.
A-L: Please tell him I say hello. I miss that guy.
Kitty: Oh, can you tell Cousin Tina that I probably can't join her on the bike ride in April?
A-L: Ohmigosh, that would have been so fun to have you pulling my bike! I bet someone would sew you a little spandex outfit. (Hint, hint, readers who sew.)
Kitty: Which is precisely why it's perfect timing that I'll probably be in D.C. the weekend of the Wildflower.
A-L: Sorry?
Kitty: I don't want to bore you with the details, but the Obamas are begging me to come stay with them to help "the dog" transition into public life.
A-L: Have they chosen a dog?
Kitty: It's not public yet, but I've sold the dog who lives with me.
A-L: No, not yet.
Kitty: How about now?
A-L: Nope. Do you?
Kitty: Paul got me hooked up with a gig doing stress tests on snowboard goggle boxes. It's boring, but it's steady work and I get free snowboarding gear.
A-L: Aren't you a skier?
Kitty: No, I'm a cat. I got a call from GW the other day. Their apartment has a mouse infestation, and he wanted me to come round and have a look. I gave him a quote over the phone, and he hung up on me.
A-L: That's surprising, I think.
Kitty: He wanted fast service, and I was going to put my best man on the job. I've trained Ted to catch mice bare-handed. He's a natural.
A-L: Please tell him I say hello. I miss that guy.
Kitty: Oh, can you tell Cousin Tina that I probably can't join her on the bike ride in April?
A-L: Ohmigosh, that would have been so fun to have you pulling my bike! I bet someone would sew you a little spandex outfit. (Hint, hint, readers who sew.)
Kitty: Which is precisely why it's perfect timing that I'll probably be in D.C. the weekend of the Wildflower.
A-L: Sorry?
Kitty: I don't want to bore you with the details, but the Obamas are begging me to come stay with them to help "the dog" transition into public life.
A-L: Have they chosen a dog?
Kitty: It's not public yet, but I've sold the dog who lives with me.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Cheap Laugh
Paul: Do you remember those snowboarding goggles I got for my 30th Birthday?
A-L: No, that was AGES ago.
Paul: It wasn't that long ago. Anyway, the other day I found the picture of Kitty in the goggle box. Poor Kitty. I shed a tear.
A-L: Why "poor Kitty"? Because you stuffed her in a goggle box, or because now she's living in the Scottish countryside and is miles away from the nearest theatre and decent Indian food?
Paul: I didn't stuff her into the goggle box. She stalked it, circled it, and then put it on, as it were. And there's really good Indian food in Culross.
A-L: Why didn't anyone tell me she looked like a boa constrictor?
A-L: No, that was AGES ago.
Paul: It wasn't that long ago. Anyway, the other day I found the picture of Kitty in the goggle box. Poor Kitty. I shed a tear.
A-L: Why "poor Kitty"? Because you stuffed her in a goggle box, or because now she's living in the Scottish countryside and is miles away from the nearest theatre and decent Indian food?
Paul: I didn't stuff her into the goggle box. She stalked it, circled it, and then put it on, as it were. And there's really good Indian food in Culross.
A-L: Why didn't anyone tell me she looked like a boa constrictor?
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Boot Camp
Cousin Tina: We're going for a 17-mile bike ride today.
A-L: Do you want me to pass that message on to someone?
Cousin Tina: Um, yourself. We're leaving at 11 a.m., and you're riding Daniel's bike.
A-L: Cool. I hope Daniel can see past me sitting on the handlebars. Or am I riding in one of those carts?
Cousin Tina: Daniel's staying at home.
A-L: Oh, I see. It's remote control. Is it a new Wii game?
Cousin Tina: Call it what you like.
Mile 2 -
A-L: I'm HUNGRY.
Cousin Tina: I'm AUSTRIA. Keep pedaling. We're almost to the 1/8 mark.
Mile 3.5 -
A-L: I have to pee.
Cousin Tina: We're almost to the spot where I won't be lying if I say we're getting a bit closer to the half-way mark.
A-L: I hate word problems. Holly, are we there yet?
Cousin Holly: I don't speak 'whining'.
A-L: Tina, Holly won't talk to me. I have to pee.
Mile 5.5 -
A-L: Is it time for our banana bread snack yet?
Cousin Tina: I can tell by looking at you that your blood sugar hasn't dropped that low. Keep pedaling. We're getting closer.
A-L: By my calculations we're getting farther away from the house. And bathrooms. Did I mention I have to pee? And can a dietitian really tell someone's blood sugar level just by looking at them?
Cousin Tina: I can. And I have the power to determine when hypochondria has set in. You're in the advanced stages.
A-L: Does that mean I get to travel home in one of those carts? Is Cousin Gary coming to pick me up? And is the only cure a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake?
Cousin Tina: I need to observe you riding the bike for a couple more miles before I can clearly diagnose the situation.
Mile 7 -
A-L: I think I'm going into shock. If I pass on here, tell my parents, and Sister Maria, Grandbrother Hector, Aila and Annais and the rest of the Finn-family Sandstrum trolls that I loved them very much. And the $30.78 that's left in my 401(k) after the stellar stock market performance of 2008 should be divided evenly between Aila and Annais, and their boxer, Binx.
Cousin Tina: Noted. We have 1.5 miles to go until we're at the turn-around point.
A-L: Can I pee when we we get to the turn-around point? And are there hot tubs there? And wine and cheese?
Cousin Holly: Plenty of whine along the way.
Cousin Tina: Lincoln Airport is our turn-around point.
A-L: Are we only in Nebraska? We've been riding for days.
Cousin Tina: It's been 40 minutes. And we're not in the Midwest, technically. We're 7 miles away from where we started. Still in California.
A-L: Will search and rescue be able to find us out here?
Cousin Tina: I'm going to let Holly field that question.
Radio silence.
Mile 8.5 -
Cousin Tina: We'll, we're here.
A-L: Where are they hiding the hot tubs and the buffet table? This looks like a cul-de-sac next to an airstrip. And I have to pee.
Cousin Tina: You can pee here.
A-L: With low-flying aircraft overhead?
Cousin Tina: It's either that or hold it all the way back to the house.
A-L: How far is it back to the house?
Cousin Tina: Divide 17 by 2.
A-L: I didn't bring a calculator. And the suspense is killing me.
Cousin Tina: It'll take us just as long to get home as it did to get here.
A-L: If I can keep up that same pace.
Cousin Holly: Really? Do you think you could possibly ride your bike more slowly than you did on the way here?
And by some miracle we made it back to the house, on bikes.
A-L: Tina, do you think I'll be in shape by April to join you on the Wildflower 60-mile bike ride in Chico?
Radio silence.
A-L: Do you want me to pass that message on to someone?
Cousin Tina: Um, yourself. We're leaving at 11 a.m., and you're riding Daniel's bike.
A-L: Cool. I hope Daniel can see past me sitting on the handlebars. Or am I riding in one of those carts?
Cousin Tina: Daniel's staying at home.
A-L: Oh, I see. It's remote control. Is it a new Wii game?
Cousin Tina: Call it what you like.
Mile 2 -
A-L: I'm HUNGRY.
Cousin Tina: I'm AUSTRIA. Keep pedaling. We're almost to the 1/8 mark.
Mile 3.5 -
A-L: I have to pee.
Cousin Tina: We're almost to the spot where I won't be lying if I say we're getting a bit closer to the half-way mark.
A-L: I hate word problems. Holly, are we there yet?
Cousin Holly: I don't speak 'whining'.
A-L: Tina, Holly won't talk to me. I have to pee.
Mile 5.5 -
A-L: Is it time for our banana bread snack yet?
Cousin Tina: I can tell by looking at you that your blood sugar hasn't dropped that low. Keep pedaling. We're getting closer.
A-L: By my calculations we're getting farther away from the house. And bathrooms. Did I mention I have to pee? And can a dietitian really tell someone's blood sugar level just by looking at them?
Cousin Tina: I can. And I have the power to determine when hypochondria has set in. You're in the advanced stages.
A-L: Does that mean I get to travel home in one of those carts? Is Cousin Gary coming to pick me up? And is the only cure a chocolate and peanut butter milkshake?
Cousin Tina: I need to observe you riding the bike for a couple more miles before I can clearly diagnose the situation.
Mile 7 -
A-L: I think I'm going into shock. If I pass on here, tell my parents, and Sister Maria, Grandbrother Hector, Aila and Annais and the rest of the Finn-family Sandstrum trolls that I loved them very much. And the $30.78 that's left in my 401(k) after the stellar stock market performance of 2008 should be divided evenly between Aila and Annais, and their boxer, Binx.
Cousin Tina: Noted. We have 1.5 miles to go until we're at the turn-around point.
A-L: Can I pee when we we get to the turn-around point? And are there hot tubs there? And wine and cheese?
Cousin Holly: Plenty of whine along the way.
Cousin Tina: Lincoln Airport is our turn-around point.
A-L: Are we only in Nebraska? We've been riding for days.
Cousin Tina: It's been 40 minutes. And we're not in the Midwest, technically. We're 7 miles away from where we started. Still in California.
A-L: Will search and rescue be able to find us out here?
Cousin Tina: I'm going to let Holly field that question.
Radio silence.
Mile 8.5 -
Cousin Tina: We'll, we're here.
A-L: Where are they hiding the hot tubs and the buffet table? This looks like a cul-de-sac next to an airstrip. And I have to pee.
Cousin Tina: You can pee here.
A-L: With low-flying aircraft overhead?
Cousin Tina: It's either that or hold it all the way back to the house.
A-L: How far is it back to the house?
Cousin Tina: Divide 17 by 2.
A-L: I didn't bring a calculator. And the suspense is killing me.
Cousin Tina: It'll take us just as long to get home as it did to get here.
A-L: If I can keep up that same pace.
Cousin Holly: Really? Do you think you could possibly ride your bike more slowly than you did on the way here?
And by some miracle we made it back to the house, on bikes.
A-L: Tina, do you think I'll be in shape by April to join you on the Wildflower 60-mile bike ride in Chico?
Radio silence.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
A Poem
It's probably poetry week somewhere at a library in the Midwest, so in celebration, here's the poem my upstairs neighbor might have written to me.
A Poem To My Downstairs Neighbor, If I Wrote One
Why must you dry your hair, at 8 a.m.?
Which is the middle of the night.
Practically.
They make silencers for hair dryers.
I think you should buy one.
A nice one.
Or just go for a bike ride.
Why must you laugh, ever?
Your laugh is so very shrill.
Stop hanging out with funny people,
Or better yet, stop laughing
at your
own
jokes.
So loudly.
Why must you cook with garlic?
Please stop.
Why must you listen to that CD again?
Get an iPod.
And press shuffle.
When is your sub-let over?
The end.
A Poem To My Downstairs Neighbor, If I Wrote One
Why must you dry your hair, at 8 a.m.?
Which is the middle of the night.
Practically.
They make silencers for hair dryers.
I think you should buy one.
A nice one.
Or just go for a bike ride.
Why must you laugh, ever?
Your laugh is so very shrill.
Stop hanging out with funny people,
Or better yet, stop laughing
at your
own
jokes.
So loudly.
Why must you cook with garlic?
Please stop.
Why must you listen to that CD again?
Get an iPod.
And press shuffle.
When is your sub-let over?
The end.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Missing: Jeffrey
Sister Maria: Do you remember Jeffrey?
A-L: I know a couple Jeffs, but no one who refers to himself as Jeffrey. Give me a hint.
Sister Maria: Aila's giraffe, Jeffrey?
A-L: A stuffed animal, I take it. I don't think I ever met him, unless he was a guest at one of the elaborate tea parties Aila hosts. Perhaps I sat next to him. Must have been a quiet fellow.
Sister Maria: Well, Aila took Jeffrey to kindergarten, to cuddle with during nap time.
A-L: And Jeffrey converted to Presbyterianism, and wouldn't come back home with her to the Catholic/Lutheran home you and Hector have so lovingly built?
Sister Maria: No, she took Jeffrey to school, on a Friday, and left him there. By accident, of course.
A-L: Don't tell me, the Presbyterians sacrificed him on Sunday.
Sister Maria: What is wrong with you? Irma and Public Safety Pete didn't raise us to be hateful people.
A-L: Sorry. I have too much time on my hands. And now Jim Morrison is singing the soundtrack to the video of the stuffed giraffe in flames on the altar.
Sister Maria: Anyway, when Aila returned to kindergarten the following Monday, Jeffrey was gone. One of the kids at Sunday school must have taken him. She was devastated.
A-L: I can imagine. She's such a sensitive little soul. Did you make a missing poster? I had a friend whose dad lived in Columbia, and his pet parrot flew away, and he put an ad in the local paper. So people started calling him and imitating a parrot voice, which is ironic. I think. Although being American, I'm not supposed to fully understand irony.
Sister Maria: Are you drunk? Do I look a woman who has time to make a missing poster, for a stuffed giraffe? We asked in the school office if anyone had turned Jeffrey in, but no dice.
A-L: Is the moral of the story that you wish you had sent Aila to a public school, where you expect people to steal things from one another, because they're heathens?
Sister Maria: When did you become so self-righteous? Don't answer that. So this morning, Aila said she really wanted to take a stuffed animal to school, because she wanted to cuddle with something during nap time.
A-L: Don't we all.
Sister Maria: So, I told her she could take a stuffed animal, but she is responsible for it, and if it gets lost, she'll be really sad. So do you want to know which stuffed animal she chose?
A-L: Don't tell me it was Annais's blue puppy? or the giant Elmo that Aunt Chrissy bought them?
Sister Maria: No, it was Kitty's horse.
A-L: I have a confession. That stuffed horse never belonged to Kitty. It was mine, a joke present a friend bought me when I told him I wanted a pony. I just told Aila that it was Kitty's, and that Kitty had asked me to pass it on to her because, uh, because I like to make stuff up. And because Aila never got to meet Kitty.
Sister Maria: The phone line was breaking up there. I missed all of that.
A-L: I just said that I know Aila will look after Kitty's horse. And I'm sure he'll come home with her this afternoon, safe and sound. He's pretty street smart, and I don't think he'll let himself be fooled by any Presbyterians trying to lure him to Sunday service.
Sister Maria: Well, I hope not. But I told Aila that she has to look after Kitty's horse very carefully, and that she doesn't want him to end up where Jeffrey ended up.
A-L: You're such a guilt tripper.
Sister Maria: I know. So Aila's reply was, "but I don't know where Jeffrey ended up."
A-L: Ohmigosh, that's heart-breaking. I wonder what she imagines. Is Jeffrey lying in a ditch somewhere, or is he now an indentured servant for the altar guild?
Sister Maria: So, of course, now I'm worried sick about Kitty's horse. I put a name tag on him, with Aila's details.
A-L: While we've been talking, I e-mailed Kitty, and she's sent me the link to the place where she bought her horse. Douglas is his name, and if you click here, you can see a photo of him. (He's the tan fellow, with the white mane.) So if the Presbyterians take him hostage, we'll send in a decoy.
Sister Maria: Good idea.
A-L: I know a couple Jeffs, but no one who refers to himself as Jeffrey. Give me a hint.
Sister Maria: Aila's giraffe, Jeffrey?
A-L: A stuffed animal, I take it. I don't think I ever met him, unless he was a guest at one of the elaborate tea parties Aila hosts. Perhaps I sat next to him. Must have been a quiet fellow.
Sister Maria: Well, Aila took Jeffrey to kindergarten, to cuddle with during nap time.
A-L: And Jeffrey converted to Presbyterianism, and wouldn't come back home with her to the Catholic/Lutheran home you and Hector have so lovingly built?
Sister Maria: No, she took Jeffrey to school, on a Friday, and left him there. By accident, of course.
A-L: Don't tell me, the Presbyterians sacrificed him on Sunday.
Sister Maria: What is wrong with you? Irma and Public Safety Pete didn't raise us to be hateful people.
A-L: Sorry. I have too much time on my hands. And now Jim Morrison is singing the soundtrack to the video of the stuffed giraffe in flames on the altar.
Sister Maria: Anyway, when Aila returned to kindergarten the following Monday, Jeffrey was gone. One of the kids at Sunday school must have taken him. She was devastated.
A-L: I can imagine. She's such a sensitive little soul. Did you make a missing poster? I had a friend whose dad lived in Columbia, and his pet parrot flew away, and he put an ad in the local paper. So people started calling him and imitating a parrot voice, which is ironic. I think. Although being American, I'm not supposed to fully understand irony.
Sister Maria: Are you drunk? Do I look a woman who has time to make a missing poster, for a stuffed giraffe? We asked in the school office if anyone had turned Jeffrey in, but no dice.
A-L: Is the moral of the story that you wish you had sent Aila to a public school, where you expect people to steal things from one another, because they're heathens?
Sister Maria: When did you become so self-righteous? Don't answer that. So this morning, Aila said she really wanted to take a stuffed animal to school, because she wanted to cuddle with something during nap time.
A-L: Don't we all.
Sister Maria: So, I told her she could take a stuffed animal, but she is responsible for it, and if it gets lost, she'll be really sad. So do you want to know which stuffed animal she chose?
A-L: Don't tell me it was Annais's blue puppy? or the giant Elmo that Aunt Chrissy bought them?
Sister Maria: No, it was Kitty's horse.
A-L: I have a confession. That stuffed horse never belonged to Kitty. It was mine, a joke present a friend bought me when I told him I wanted a pony. I just told Aila that it was Kitty's, and that Kitty had asked me to pass it on to her because, uh, because I like to make stuff up. And because Aila never got to meet Kitty.
Sister Maria: The phone line was breaking up there. I missed all of that.
A-L: I just said that I know Aila will look after Kitty's horse. And I'm sure he'll come home with her this afternoon, safe and sound. He's pretty street smart, and I don't think he'll let himself be fooled by any Presbyterians trying to lure him to Sunday service.
Sister Maria: Well, I hope not. But I told Aila that she has to look after Kitty's horse very carefully, and that she doesn't want him to end up where Jeffrey ended up.
A-L: You're such a guilt tripper.
Sister Maria: I know. So Aila's reply was, "but I don't know where Jeffrey ended up."
A-L: Ohmigosh, that's heart-breaking. I wonder what she imagines. Is Jeffrey lying in a ditch somewhere, or is he now an indentured servant for the altar guild?
Sister Maria: So, of course, now I'm worried sick about Kitty's horse. I put a name tag on him, with Aila's details.
A-L: While we've been talking, I e-mailed Kitty, and she's sent me the link to the place where she bought her horse. Douglas is his name, and if you click here, you can see a photo of him. (He's the tan fellow, with the white mane.) So if the Presbyterians take him hostage, we'll send in a decoy.
Sister Maria: Good idea.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Safety First
Caroline: Hi, I can't talk for long. My friend is coming over to watch The Real Housewives of Orange County. Have you seen it?
A-L: Is the Pope German? I don't have a television, but maybe they'll be showing it on the big screen at the Abbey Tavern on Geary, where I watch Scottish football matches.
Caroline: Probably not. Different target market. The show's about to start. Let's talk tomorrow, after the pool electrician leaves.
A-L: Why would one need a pool electrician? Are you having an intercom installed so when we're in the hot tub, we can summon Dave to bring down drinks from the kitchen? Or is it a loudspeaker to scare the raccoons out of the pool?
Caroline: No, nothing scares the raccoons. We've surrendered to them, and they're now living downstairs, in the man cave.
A-L: In Dave's man cave? I thought you said I could stay there when I come up to Portland?
Caroline: Oh you can. They've put in bunk beds. Lots of them. The pool electrician is coming over to install an electronic pool cover.
A-L: Cool. Can we surf on it?
Caroline: Um, no. Bring rollerskates.
A-L: Is the Pope German? I don't have a television, but maybe they'll be showing it on the big screen at the Abbey Tavern on Geary, where I watch Scottish football matches.
Caroline: Probably not. Different target market. The show's about to start. Let's talk tomorrow, after the pool electrician leaves.
A-L: Why would one need a pool electrician? Are you having an intercom installed so when we're in the hot tub, we can summon Dave to bring down drinks from the kitchen? Or is it a loudspeaker to scare the raccoons out of the pool?
Caroline: No, nothing scares the raccoons. We've surrendered to them, and they're now living downstairs, in the man cave.
A-L: In Dave's man cave? I thought you said I could stay there when I come up to Portland?
Caroline: Oh you can. They've put in bunk beds. Lots of them. The pool electrician is coming over to install an electronic pool cover.
A-L: Cool. Can we surf on it?
Caroline: Um, no. Bring rollerskates.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Maybe Next Year...
Gemma, dear readers, is the Paris correspondent for The Ferocious Reader. She is one of the Publishing Ladies, and an expert on Auster-Doyle syndrome.
Gemma: Were you at the annual Valentines Day pillow fight in San Francisco?
A-L: No. I'm Protestant. We don't celebrate pillow fights.
Gemma: Why not?
A-L: Because they're frivolous. And messy.
Gemma: And?
A-L: And because I was raised by a woman who lived through WWII. Pillows are not just for Valentines Day. They're for a lifetime. Especially for the Finns.
Gemma: How so?
A-L: Well, everyone knows the Finns used some brilliant tactics - like the Molotov Cocktail and white uniforms which camouflaged soldiers in the snow - to humiliate the Russian army during the Winter War, but it's a little known fact that their greatest weapon in defeating Stalin's army was...
Gemma: The pillow?
A-L: That's right. And that's the REAL reason why I can never attend the San Francisco Valentines Day Pillow Fight.
Gemma: And because you didn't know about it until someone in Paris told you.
Gemma: Were you at the annual Valentines Day pillow fight in San Francisco?
A-L: No. I'm Protestant. We don't celebrate pillow fights.
Gemma: Why not?
A-L: Because they're frivolous. And messy.
Gemma: And?
A-L: And because I was raised by a woman who lived through WWII. Pillows are not just for Valentines Day. They're for a lifetime. Especially for the Finns.
Gemma: How so?
A-L: Well, everyone knows the Finns used some brilliant tactics - like the Molotov Cocktail and white uniforms which camouflaged soldiers in the snow - to humiliate the Russian army during the Winter War, but it's a little known fact that their greatest weapon in defeating Stalin's army was...
Gemma: The pillow?
A-L: That's right. And that's the REAL reason why I can never attend the San Francisco Valentines Day Pillow Fight.
Gemma: And because you didn't know about it until someone in Paris told you.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Quiz
Here's what I learned when I was apartment hunting in San Francisco:
1. (Two cats) x (casual/non-existent housekeeping) + (super nice owners) = (pervasive cat pee odor)
Please note that the addition of (super nice owners) does not negate cat pee smell, no matter where in the equation it sits. This equation can also result in (more cats), which means you can square (pervasive cat pee odor).
2. (A stovetop wrapped in tin foil) + (doormats outside each of the bedrooms) x (nervous apartment owner) = (perpetually feeling like you're 11 years old and about to spill hot chocolate on mean grandma's white sofa)
You can substitute (grandma) with the following for the same result: (relative, neighbor, or piano teacher); and (hot chocolate) can be substituted with: (red wine, coffee or molasses).
10 Points Extra Credit
3. Including the following information in an ad for a sublet: (I am a thirty-one year old woman originally from NYC. I am a professional chef and freelance writer who moved to the Bay Area from a farm-based restaurant I ran in Georgia to cook at Chez Panisse, where I spent a year and a half. I currently work from home, writing full-time about food and culture, but spend many nights and weekends at my boyfriend's house in the Mission. The rest of the time I do yoga, cook, read, and work on sustainable food projects with Slow Food Berkeley.) =
A. (General confusion about why work experience at Chez Panisse is included.)
B. (Am I going to be tested on your hobbies?)
C. (Is it relevant that your boyfriend lives in the Mission?)
D. (Other answer, listed in comments.)
1. (Two cats) x (casual/non-existent housekeeping) + (super nice owners) = (pervasive cat pee odor)
Please note that the addition of (super nice owners) does not negate cat pee smell, no matter where in the equation it sits. This equation can also result in (more cats), which means you can square (pervasive cat pee odor).
2. (A stovetop wrapped in tin foil) + (doormats outside each of the bedrooms) x (nervous apartment owner) = (perpetually feeling like you're 11 years old and about to spill hot chocolate on mean grandma's white sofa)
You can substitute (grandma) with the following for the same result: (relative, neighbor, or piano teacher); and (hot chocolate) can be substituted with: (red wine, coffee or molasses).
10 Points Extra Credit
3. Including the following information in an ad for a sublet: (I am a thirty-one year old woman originally from NYC. I am a professional chef and freelance writer who moved to the Bay Area from a farm-based restaurant I ran in Georgia to cook at Chez Panisse, where I spent a year and a half. I currently work from home, writing full-time about food and culture, but spend many nights and weekends at my boyfriend's house in the Mission. The rest of the time I do yoga, cook, read, and work on sustainable food projects with Slow Food Berkeley.) =
A. (General confusion about why work experience at Chez Panisse is included.)
B. (Am I going to be tested on your hobbies?)
C. (Is it relevant that your boyfriend lives in the Mission?)
D. (Other answer, listed in comments.)
Poem for my Upstairs Neighbor
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just your footsteps
How many feet do you have?
Many, many feet
Heavy feet
Running, jumping feet
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just your thrash metal
Turned waaay up
Even after midnight
When I get a job
I will buy you headphones
Nice ones
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you're learning to play the bongos
Against the wooden floor
Which acts like
One
Big
Giant
Bongo drum
Especially after midnight
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you go to bed at 4 a.m.
And I lie awake
And dream of new hobbies for you
Like stamp collecting
and
Coloring.
I don't know you
Just your footsteps
How many feet do you have?
Many, many feet
Heavy feet
Running, jumping feet
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just your thrash metal
Turned waaay up
Even after midnight
When I get a job
I will buy you headphones
Nice ones
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you're learning to play the bongos
Against the wooden floor
Which acts like
One
Big
Giant
Bongo drum
Especially after midnight
Dear upstairs neighbor,
I don't know you
Just that you go to bed at 4 a.m.
And I lie awake
And dream of new hobbies for you
Like stamp collecting
and
Coloring.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
The Skirt of Many Colors
A-L: Should I be insulted that a woman came up to me on Thursday and asked if my skirt was recycled?
Kitty: You’re not still wearing the patchwork skirt you bought from Joey D. in Edinburgh?
A-L: Of course I am. I like it.
Kitty: Well, let’s think about this. It is San Francisco, so “recycled” has positive connotations. Even if the undertone is “your skirt looks like Dolly Parton’s mom made it from the box of rags”.
A-L: Thanks. You always make me feel better.
Kitty: You’re not still wearing the patchwork skirt you bought from Joey D. in Edinburgh?
A-L: Of course I am. I like it.
Kitty: Well, let’s think about this. It is San Francisco, so “recycled” has positive connotations. Even if the undertone is “your skirt looks like Dolly Parton’s mom made it from the box of rags”.
A-L: Thanks. You always make me feel better.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Off Center Piece
Kitty suffering under the house rules at Perth Street:
Kitty enjoying new, more cat-centric, house rules:
Kitty enjoying new, more cat-centric, house rules:
Dress Rehearsal
Kitty: What is it now?
A-L: I need your help practicing for interviews.
Kitty: Ok. We'll start with my favorite question, "What's your biggest weakness?"
A-L: I'm a perfectionist?
Kitty: Try again.
A-L: Uh, I'm not very good at parallel parking?
Kitty: Are you applying for a job as a valet again?
A-L: No. How about this, I'm selfless and am always putting other people's needs ahead of mine, which isn't healthy.
Kitty: Are you reading that off of something? You can't take a script with you into an interview.
A-L: It's a brochure about co-dependency. I've put it away. Ok, for real, here's my biggest flaw: I'm too funny, and it can be distracting because everyone loves working with me.
Kitty: So you're delusional and self-obsessed. This is good. We're getting somewhere.
A-L: This isn't therapy. We're supposed to be practicing for an interview.
Kitty: You're the one reading off a mental health brochure. Why don't you stick with the parallel parking answer? And good luck.
A-L: I need your help practicing for interviews.
Kitty: Ok. We'll start with my favorite question, "What's your biggest weakness?"
A-L: I'm a perfectionist?
Kitty: Try again.
A-L: Uh, I'm not very good at parallel parking?
Kitty: Are you applying for a job as a valet again?
A-L: No. How about this, I'm selfless and am always putting other people's needs ahead of mine, which isn't healthy.
Kitty: Are you reading that off of something? You can't take a script with you into an interview.
A-L: It's a brochure about co-dependency. I've put it away. Ok, for real, here's my biggest flaw: I'm too funny, and it can be distracting because everyone loves working with me.
Kitty: So you're delusional and self-obsessed. This is good. We're getting somewhere.
A-L: This isn't therapy. We're supposed to be practicing for an interview.
Kitty: You're the one reading off a mental health brochure. Why don't you stick with the parallel parking answer? And good luck.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Edinburgh v. San Francisco
Kitty: I'm dying to know how San Francisco compares to Edinburgh.
A-L: You are?? That's so sweet. Are you thinking of getting a passport and coming to live with me? I'd love it.
Kitty: Hell no. Jenny lets me chill on the dining room table. And there's a dog here. He does whatever I tell him. I'm just curious. Besides me, what do you miss about Scotland?
A-L: Well, I miss Kebab Mahal, and that crazy ecstatic feeling you get in Scotland when you see the sun.
Kitty: You read The Sun?
A-L: That too. We see the sun here almost every day, which gets boring. Kind of.
Kitty: So you miss me, some hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant, and??
A-L: Uh, cobblestones. And IRN-BRU. It's made in Scotland, fae girders. And I miss watching Scottish football at a decent hour. And I miss hearing the Scottish accent.
Kitty: Wow, I never realized how shallow you were.
A-L: You've always known how shallow I am. I only stole you because you matched the color scheme in the flat on Perth Street.
Kitty: So, you don't miss any people? What about all those communists you knew?
A-L: They were Lefties, not Leftists, you foolish cat. And of course I miss my former colleagues, left-handed or not, and the servers at the Christian Center (where you can get a baked potato for 3.00 or 3.50, depending on who's working the cash register), my flatmates, friends from Napier, and friends picked up along the way.
Kitty: And?? Which is better?
A-L: It's too early to tell. I haven't found a cat that matches the decor yet, and I've only met one Lefty (who is a publisher, of course), so it's early days.
Kitty: Wow, you're shallow AND wishy washy.
A-L: You are?? That's so sweet. Are you thinking of getting a passport and coming to live with me? I'd love it.
Kitty: Hell no. Jenny lets me chill on the dining room table. And there's a dog here. He does whatever I tell him. I'm just curious. Besides me, what do you miss about Scotland?
A-L: Well, I miss Kebab Mahal, and that crazy ecstatic feeling you get in Scotland when you see the sun.
Kitty: You read The Sun?
A-L: That too. We see the sun here almost every day, which gets boring. Kind of.
Kitty: So you miss me, some hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant, and??
A-L: Uh, cobblestones. And IRN-BRU. It's made in Scotland, fae girders. And I miss watching Scottish football at a decent hour. And I miss hearing the Scottish accent.
Kitty: Wow, I never realized how shallow you were.
A-L: You've always known how shallow I am. I only stole you because you matched the color scheme in the flat on Perth Street.
Kitty: So, you don't miss any people? What about all those communists you knew?
A-L: They were Lefties, not Leftists, you foolish cat. And of course I miss my former colleagues, left-handed or not, and the servers at the Christian Center (where you can get a baked potato for 3.00 or 3.50, depending on who's working the cash register), my flatmates, friends from Napier, and friends picked up along the way.
Kitty: And?? Which is better?
A-L: It's too early to tell. I haven't found a cat that matches the decor yet, and I've only met one Lefty (who is a publisher, of course), so it's early days.
Kitty: Wow, you're shallow AND wishy washy.
Privacy
A-L to 3-year-old Carley, daughter of friend Kate.
A-L: Hi Carley, how old are you?
Carley: I'm three.
A-L: Wow. When are you going to be four?
Carley: On my Birthday.
Mom Kate: I'm going to start saying that when people ask me when I'm going to be 40. "On my birthday."
A-L: Hi Carley, how old are you?
Carley: I'm three.
A-L: Wow. When are you going to be four?
Carley: On my Birthday.
Mom Kate: I'm going to start saying that when people ask me when I'm going to be 40. "On my birthday."
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The Job Hunt - Day 300
A-L: I found the perfect job.
Sister Maria: Under the refrigerator, or inside the vacuum cleaner bag?
A-L: Good guess.
Sister Maria: I imagine it's in the Etc. portion of Craigslist. Are you converting to Judaism so you can donate your eggs to a loving Jewish couple?
A-L: I don't meet the minimum requirements: Irma's a Gentile. And my Math score on the SAT wasn't exactly stellar.
Sister Maria: And it's a bit of a race against the clock. You've only got 4 months before some couple thinks you're too old to be the biological mother of their Jewish baby.
A-L: That's why I'm going to apply to be a Private Investigator.
Sister Maria: Ok, let's do a practice interview now. And the following CANNOT be used as answers to the question "What qualifications do you have?"
Sister Maria: Ok, next question. The job requires "sitting patiently" for hours. Is this something you could do?
A-L: Pass.
Sister Maria: They describe the ideal candidate as having "strong common sense". Can you comment on that?
A-L: Define "strong".
Sister Maria: I imagine you would have to maintain confidentiality, and be pretty selective about when and how you use binoculars.
A-L: Can you please restate the question?
Sister Maria: Technically that's the answer. You wouldn't be able to blog about a) seeing the job on Craigslist, b) applying for the job, c) getting the job, or d) any of your adventures on the job.
A-L: That's B-O-R-I-N-G. I mean, I think I'm overqualified.
Sister Maria: Under the refrigerator, or inside the vacuum cleaner bag?
A-L: Good guess.
Sister Maria: I imagine it's in the Etc. portion of Craigslist. Are you converting to Judaism so you can donate your eggs to a loving Jewish couple?
A-L: I don't meet the minimum requirements: Irma's a Gentile. And my Math score on the SAT wasn't exactly stellar.
Sister Maria: And it's a bit of a race against the clock. You've only got 4 months before some couple thinks you're too old to be the biological mother of their Jewish baby.
A-L: That's why I'm going to apply to be a Private Investigator.
Sister Maria: Ok, let's do a practice interview now. And the following CANNOT be used as answers to the question "What qualifications do you have?"
- I watched Murder, She Wrote when I was in elementary school
- I LOVE Cold Case Files
- I only have six more episodes of The Wire to watch.
Sister Maria: Ok, next question. The job requires "sitting patiently" for hours. Is this something you could do?
A-L: Pass.
Sister Maria: They describe the ideal candidate as having "strong common sense". Can you comment on that?
A-L: Define "strong".
Sister Maria: I imagine you would have to maintain confidentiality, and be pretty selective about when and how you use binoculars.
A-L: Can you please restate the question?
Sister Maria: Technically that's the answer. You wouldn't be able to blog about a) seeing the job on Craigslist, b) applying for the job, c) getting the job, or d) any of your adventures on the job.
A-L: That's B-O-R-I-N-G. I mean, I think I'm overqualified.
Monday, February 09, 2009
San Francisco Tourist Attractions
A-L: Hi Emma, when are you coming to visit me?
Emma: Soon. I'm dying to see the Nutcracker.
A-L: Bad news. He's dead. Or hibernating.
Emma: You killed the 3rd Avenue Nutcracker?
A-L: Uh, I think so. Public Safety Pete and cousins Tim and Tom were in town last Wednesday. We went for dim sum, and of course we walked back to my house via 3rd Avenue. I think we were the last people to see the Nutcracker alive.
Emma: How did you kill him?
A-L: We went up and touched him to find out what he's made of.
Emma: You didn't! You touched him?!
A-L: He's made of fiberglass.
Emma: Was made of fiberglass. I think I'll schedule a trip to San Francisco to coincide with the birth of the next Nutcracker. When do you think that'll be?
A-L: Shortly after Labor Day, I'm sure. It's supposed to be lovely in San Francisco in Autumn. The leaves turn and the Nutcrackers hatch.
Emma: Soon. I'm dying to see the Nutcracker.
A-L: Bad news. He's dead. Or hibernating.
Emma: You killed the 3rd Avenue Nutcracker?
A-L: Uh, I think so. Public Safety Pete and cousins Tim and Tom were in town last Wednesday. We went for dim sum, and of course we walked back to my house via 3rd Avenue. I think we were the last people to see the Nutcracker alive.
Emma: How did you kill him?
A-L: We went up and touched him to find out what he's made of.
Emma: You didn't! You touched him?!
A-L: He's made of fiberglass.
Emma: Was made of fiberglass. I think I'll schedule a trip to San Francisco to coincide with the birth of the next Nutcracker. When do you think that'll be?
A-L: Shortly after Labor Day, I'm sure. It's supposed to be lovely in San Francisco in Autumn. The leaves turn and the Nutcrackers hatch.
Sunday, February 08, 2009
Premonition
Annais: I had a dream that there were angels at Momma's (Irma's) house.
Sister Maria: What were the angels doing?
Annais: Cleaning.
Raucous laughter from Sister Maria.
Sister Maria: What were the angels doing?
Annais: Cleaning.
Raucous laughter from Sister Maria.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Happy Birthday, Sister Maria
A-L: I can't believe you're 38! Happy Birthday. It seems like yesterday that we had your 10th birthday party at the house in Germany.
Sister Maria: Yesterday?? It was Reagan's first term.
A-L: Nancy Reagan was president?
Sister Maria: You're so predictable.
Sister Maria: Yesterday?? It was Reagan's first term.
A-L: Nancy Reagan was president?
Sister Maria: You're so predictable.
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Signs
A-L: Hi Kitty, I miss you.
Kitty: Have you found a job yet?
A-L: Not yet, but things are looking up.
Kitty: I knew things would turn around. You know, until last Sunday Mercury was in retrograde.
A-L: Is that near Glasgow?
Kitty: No, it's a planet, and its position was impeding your job search.
A-L: I didn't know you believed in that stuff.
Kitty: Of course I do. I'm a typical Taurus.
A-L: What makes you think you're a Taurus?
Kitty: My birthday is May 11, 2005, and I exhibit all the Taurus traits. I'm stubborn, reliable, a financial wizard, and I like a comfortable life and expensive things.
A-L: I hate to break it to you, but no one knows when you were born, or even how old you are. I made up that date. You could be 14 years old for all I know. And a Capricorn.
Kitty: But I'm twelve days older than Annais. And I was a tiny kitten when you stole me.
A-L: You were small, but I always attributed that to cigarette smoke having stunted your growth.
Kitty: I never smoked.
A-L: Yes, but you always lived with people who did. I bet you've got a half-pack-a-day secondhand smoker's habit. It was Paul's plan to stunt your growth, and market you as a Shetland Kitten, online.
Kitty: Then maybe the Obama family would want me.
A-L: As if. The last thing they need on their family holidays is a stubborn cat complaining that the thread-count on the hotel sheets isn't high enough.
Kitty: Have you found a job yet?
A-L: Not yet, but things are looking up.
Kitty: I knew things would turn around. You know, until last Sunday Mercury was in retrograde.
A-L: Is that near Glasgow?
Kitty: No, it's a planet, and its position was impeding your job search.
A-L: I didn't know you believed in that stuff.
Kitty: Of course I do. I'm a typical Taurus.
A-L: What makes you think you're a Taurus?
Kitty: My birthday is May 11, 2005, and I exhibit all the Taurus traits. I'm stubborn, reliable, a financial wizard, and I like a comfortable life and expensive things.
A-L: I hate to break it to you, but no one knows when you were born, or even how old you are. I made up that date. You could be 14 years old for all I know. And a Capricorn.
Kitty: But I'm twelve days older than Annais. And I was a tiny kitten when you stole me.
A-L: You were small, but I always attributed that to cigarette smoke having stunted your growth.
Kitty: I never smoked.
A-L: Yes, but you always lived with people who did. I bet you've got a half-pack-a-day secondhand smoker's habit. It was Paul's plan to stunt your growth, and market you as a Shetland Kitten, online.
Kitty: Then maybe the Obama family would want me.
A-L: As if. The last thing they need on their family holidays is a stubborn cat complaining that the thread-count on the hotel sheets isn't high enough.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
San Francisco: Nutcrackers Welcome
I love Christmas as much as the next Christmas-loving person, and I have a high tolerance for yuletide lights and trees that survive into early January, but I think it's reasonable that when February dawns, all outdoor Christmas decorations should be fast asleep in their plastic crates under the stairs/in the attic/in the guest bedroom closet/in the garage. Especially the two-story tall Nutcracker that stands guard outside the house around the corner (on 3rd Avenue between Anza and Geary, if you're up for the drive). Yes, of course there were originally two Nutcrackers, but his partner who was stationed to the right of the front door collapsed a couple days after the Inauguration. In relief, I think.
I haven't gotten close enough to see what Mr. Nutcracker is made of, but it's something strong. He's now survived Chinese New Year, the Super Bowl, the worst recession since 1945, and has a little more than a week and half to go until Valentines Day. It's a testament to the live-and-let-live nature of San Francisco that he can stand tallish (he's tilting a bit) and proud well into February.
I haven't gotten close enough to see what Mr. Nutcracker is made of, but it's something strong. He's now survived Chinese New Year, the Super Bowl, the worst recession since 1945, and has a little more than a week and half to go until Valentines Day. It's a testament to the live-and-let-live nature of San Francisco that he can stand tallish (he's tilting a bit) and proud well into February.
Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Inspection
Sister Maria: Hi, what are you doing?
A-L: I'm exhausted. I've been cleaning all day.
Sister Maria: Aren't you supposed to be job hunting?
A-L: I thought maybe I'd find a job under the refrigerator. I scrubbed the bathroom, and even vacuumed the vacuum cleaner.
Sister Maria: Is Irma coming to visit??
A-L: Close. Pete will be here tomorrow.
Sister Maria: Public Safety Pete is coming to visit and you wasted a whole afternoon cleaning? You know the first thing he's going to do is a fire safety inspection. You don't have any battery-less smoke alarms in the place, do you?
A-L: Maria, I live in an old Victorian house that's been converted into a maze of apartments. My bedroom is what used to be the dining room, a couple lives in the garage, and the lights flicker when someone upstairs uses the garbage disposal. There is NO WAY this place is going to pass Pete's safety inspection. So I thought it was best to dust door jambs and mop the kitchen floor.
Sister Maria: You've got it all wrong. Pete wouldn't notice a dusty door jamb unless it had a sparking wire on it. He'll be focused on overloaded sockets, fraying wires, a malfunctioning oven fan, obstructed exits, and slippery stairs.
A-L: I'll keep the lights low.
Sister Maria: How long will it take you to find a new apartment?
A-L: I'm exhausted. I've been cleaning all day.
Sister Maria: Aren't you supposed to be job hunting?
A-L: I thought maybe I'd find a job under the refrigerator. I scrubbed the bathroom, and even vacuumed the vacuum cleaner.
Sister Maria: Is Irma coming to visit??
A-L: Close. Pete will be here tomorrow.
Sister Maria: Public Safety Pete is coming to visit and you wasted a whole afternoon cleaning? You know the first thing he's going to do is a fire safety inspection. You don't have any battery-less smoke alarms in the place, do you?
A-L: Maria, I live in an old Victorian house that's been converted into a maze of apartments. My bedroom is what used to be the dining room, a couple lives in the garage, and the lights flicker when someone upstairs uses the garbage disposal. There is NO WAY this place is going to pass Pete's safety inspection. So I thought it was best to dust door jambs and mop the kitchen floor.
Sister Maria: You've got it all wrong. Pete wouldn't notice a dusty door jamb unless it had a sparking wire on it. He'll be focused on overloaded sockets, fraying wires, a malfunctioning oven fan, obstructed exits, and slippery stairs.
A-L: I'll keep the lights low.
Sister Maria: How long will it take you to find a new apartment?
Monday, February 02, 2009
Dispatch from the Field
E-mail from friend AC:
Hi, Here's a new one for your blog: "My company just hired 5 people today, despite the lousy economy." OK, what's the message here? That if her company hired 5 people, why can't I get a job too? That the economy really isn't THAT bad? That I'm not trying hard enough? What? What, already!?"
Dear AC,
Yes, take the hint. The job market really isn't that bad. We're just of a generation that is content sitting at home and blogging (or in your case, e-mailing) about our woes. What we should be doing is pounding the pavement, knocking on doors. Which is exactly what I will be doing if I get a job working for www.census2010.gov. Apparently they're hiring.
And the woman you describe above must have been at the Super Bowl party I attended yesterday, disguised as a man. Here's the conversation I had with her (him):
A-L: Hi, what's your name? Are you hiring?
Mr. You're-just-not-trying-hard-enough: Oh my gosh, I'm sooo busy. I could totally use more help.
A-L: So, you're hiring? Where do I apply?
Mr. YJNTHE: Oh, I'm not hiring, I'm just really busy. I already have an assistant. She makes about $50 an hour. That's pretty good, huh?
Of course I didn't know how to reply. Was that supposed to make me feel better? or worse? or was it just an arbitrary question? Anyway, I feigned a heart attack (after lots of chicken wings, half a burger, a gallon of spinach dip, and 32 butterscotch haystacks) and walked away.
So, I went back to the dining area, where a friend deduced that all of the companies that were advertising during the Super Bowl must be hiring. So after EVERY commercial, she turned to me and said, "So, they're hiring." There are lots of commercials during the Super Bowl. After a commercial from a wind energy company, and the subsequent "so, they're hiring", I turned to her and said, "Now I can finally put to use that PhD in Sustainable Energy that I've been sitting on all these years." I didn't have the energy to be aggressive, just passive aggressive.
AC, the moral of the story is don't go to Super Bowl parties. Stay at home and job hunt.
Your friend,
A-L
Hi, Here's a new one for your blog: "My company just hired 5 people today, despite the lousy economy." OK, what's the message here? That if her company hired 5 people, why can't I get a job too? That the economy really isn't THAT bad? That I'm not trying hard enough? What? What, already!?"
Dear AC,
Yes, take the hint. The job market really isn't that bad. We're just of a generation that is content sitting at home and blogging (or in your case, e-mailing) about our woes. What we should be doing is pounding the pavement, knocking on doors. Which is exactly what I will be doing if I get a job working for www.census2010.gov. Apparently they're hiring.
And the woman you describe above must have been at the Super Bowl party I attended yesterday, disguised as a man. Here's the conversation I had with her (him):
A-L: Hi, what's your name? Are you hiring?
Mr. You're-just-not-trying-hard-enough: Oh my gosh, I'm sooo busy. I could totally use more help.
A-L: So, you're hiring? Where do I apply?
Mr. YJNTHE: Oh, I'm not hiring, I'm just really busy. I already have an assistant. She makes about $50 an hour. That's pretty good, huh?
Of course I didn't know how to reply. Was that supposed to make me feel better? or worse? or was it just an arbitrary question? Anyway, I feigned a heart attack (after lots of chicken wings, half a burger, a gallon of spinach dip, and 32 butterscotch haystacks) and walked away.
So, I went back to the dining area, where a friend deduced that all of the companies that were advertising during the Super Bowl must be hiring. So after EVERY commercial, she turned to me and said, "So, they're hiring." There are lots of commercials during the Super Bowl. After a commercial from a wind energy company, and the subsequent "so, they're hiring", I turned to her and said, "Now I can finally put to use that PhD in Sustainable Energy that I've been sitting on all these years." I didn't have the energy to be aggressive, just passive aggressive.
AC, the moral of the story is don't go to Super Bowl parties. Stay at home and job hunt.
Your friend,
A-L
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