Who Knows...

...what tomorrow brings? But today brings furniture.

Packing for a Trip to the Colonies

Oh to know the provenance of this British toiletpaper roll that somehow made its way to the Goodwill store on Clement, in San Francisco (where I left it).

Mary: But Alistair, it's the Colonies. It's best to be prepared.

When Dogs Paint

Christmas Blessings of Sorts

We celebrated Christmas here with a Hot Luck. (Sound familiar? It's a pot-luck perfected by PDX Dave.) Spicy food and drink was the theme. I made deviled eggs, which brought this surprise.

Twins.

Dana: Where did that egg come from?

A-L: A chicken.

(Insert existential chicken/egg loop here.)

And then a friend of semi-half faux Scottish extraction brought this delight:

A-L: Be still my heart. Is that an Irn Bru? Where did you get that?

Scottish(ish) friend: One of the Irish stores.

(Insert existential Scottish/Irish loop. If you know of one.)

Christmas-time Sky in San Francisco

San Francisco at Christmas-time... In case you need another reason to come visit, dear friends in Scotland, and other cold/rainy climes.

San Francisco Competitive Parenting, Quarterfinals

SF Parent #1: Does your nanny only speak Spanish with your child?

SF Parent #2: No.

SF Parent #1: Oh, that's too bad. A missed opportunity.

SF Parent #2: But the funny thing is, the cat is terrified of the vacuum cleaner, and she can't tell the nanny and housekeeper apart, so she's scared of both of them.*

SF Parent #1: Oh, I see.

SF Parent #2: Yeah. We're teaching the cat Spanish, so she can distinguish between the two.

*This is a bonus story.

A Metaphor??

Yesterday all Christmas items were 30% off at the Salvation Army. (If you receive a slightly yellowed-with-age Christmas card from me, you'll know where it came into my possession.) This handsome nativity set (above) appears to be a bargain at $25. Even cheaper after the discount. (I'm not good at word problems, so I'll leave it the mathematicians to calculate the final price.)

But if you look closely, you'll see a key, er, figure is missing. Yes, dear reader, no Baby Jesus. I have a couple theories.

A. It's part of a new "Where's Baby Jesus?" franchise.

B. It's a metaphor for our times, where people have truly lost sight of "the reason for the season".

C. Sorry Caroline, but there's always the possibility that the giraffe-stealing Presbyterians have him.

And then my friend pointed out that the Jesus slot in the package is the same size as a Ferrero Rocher. Which could be used in a pinch as a substitute.

Overheard, Part XV

Overheard, two people on a lunch break: Well, it's going to be interesting to see what happens...

Translations: Well, it's going to suck.

WoW from PSP

"Words of Wisdom from Public Safety Pete" is the theme of the day.

Yesterday I phoned PSP and Irma to check on the progress of "The Great House Painting of 2010."

A-L: How's the house painting going?

PSP: We've hit a snag.

A-L: Tell me more.

PSP: It's raining. And there are two things you don't do in the rain: paint, and pour concrete.

A-L: Wow, just two.

Define: Bonus Story

Yesterday PSP reported that he and Irma are getting the house painted. The last time such a thing happened was in 1986, when Mr. Reinhardt, the 4th grade teacher at my elementary school, painted "the Somis house" (as we call her).

PSP: We're getting the house painted.

A-L: Cool, is Mr. Reinhardt still spending his school vacations painting houses?

PSP: Don't think so.

A-L: Do you remember when he painted the Somis house?

PSP: Sure do. And you better believe the painter heard all about it today.

A-L: Wow, he unlocked a bonus story.

(A bonus story is a story not entirely relevant to the situation at hand, and/or not interesting to the listener. Often can be totally irrelevant, and leads to a story set in Finland. It's a conversation feature perfected by some of our family members, who are Finnish, and sisters, and over the age of 70. Although they've been practicing the art of the bonus story since their youth. Not age related. No known treatment.)

PSP: Yes, he sure did. And I see him unlocking a few more bonus stories over the next couple days.

A-L: Did you advise him that the method for "disarming" the bonus story is to answer the question "Have I told you about xxxxx?" with "Yes"?

PSP: Yes. I mean, no.

Sisters...and Regifting

Look at this special ornament I found at the Salvation Army. (I left it there.)

It says "Sisters share a special Love 1995". I imagine it has a tiny footnote that says "even if you give away this special gift without opening it."

Merry Almost Christmas, Sister Maria.

The Emperor Penguin Had No Shoes

Sister Maria was "helping" Aila and Annais clean up the guest room, when she stumbled upon a village of characters. This tiny dorf was inhabited by toy horses, and unicorns, and this fancily clad fellow:

I call this piece "Penguin in Heels". We took him back home, as he didn't look up for the long walk from the guest room back to the girls' room. Somebody forgot to pack his walking shoes.

Some Bunny

Some bunny is NOT happy to be at the Goodwill store on Fillmore in San Francisco. Look at that face. I'm not sure why she's holding a rope? Any ideas?

The Toyota Camry

Last night the Dog-Father drove me to my Camry, which had been strategically parked for over a week.

A-L: Please don't drive away. I'm not entirely confident it will start.

The Camry starts up, and sounds a bit, er, groggy.

A-L: Sounds good, huh?

D-F: Yes, perfect. Purring like a kitten.

A-L: A kitten that's been drinking whisky.

Kitty: A glass of Laphroaig for me, please.

Dorkbook

PWR, my blog muse, and I were sitting in a cafe. PWR is looking down at his phone.

A-L: What in heaven's name are you doing?

PWR: Being anti-social. I mean, checking Foursquare.

A-L: Is that a Pentacostal church locator?

PWR: No, it's like Facebook. I'm "checking in" so other users know my location.

A-L: Um, you've travelled halfway around the world to visit friends here in the Bay Area, and now you're squandering your valuable face-to-face time with them "checking in" on some web site, so the friends you left behind in Scotland know where you are?

PWR: Uh huh. And whoever checks in the most on Foursquare

A-L: Is the biggest dork?

PWR: Close. Is named the mayor.

A-L: Let me guess, you're the biggest dork.

PWR: And the mayor.

A-L: So, what's the idea?

PWR: The idea is that you can find other Foursquare members in the same location, and connect with them.

A-L: Instead of "connecting" with the person you're ostensibly there to visit?

PWR: Yes.

A-L: I liked it better when it was a Pentacostal Church locator.

Kitty: Already exists.

Q is For Kindergarten Homework

Every week, Annais's kindergarten class celebrates, if you will, a different letter of the alphabet. This week's letter is H.

Sister Maria: I'm not looking forward to week Q.

A-L: Pourquoi?

Sister Maria: Well, Annais has to find pictures that illustrate that letter, and write the word next to the picture. And Q is a tricky one. So during your magazine perusals, if you see a picture that starts with Q, please tear out that page.

A-L: I don't suppose Annais knows how to spell Quixotic.

Sister Maria: She'll learn. Did you find a picture that illustrates it?

A-L: Uh, I don't really know what it means. But I did find another Q image.

Sister Maria: Which one?

A-L: It's a picture of the Vietnamese jungle.

Sister Maria: I don't follow.

Annais: It's Q, for Quagmire.

Public Transportation

The joys of riding public transportation in San Francisco are many. Just yesterday evening I overheard this conversation:

John: My dad owns a metal working company, and he's just hired this guy who he worked with 18 years ago.

Jane: Really?

John: Yeah. But there's something not right about him. He worked as a dishwasher for a few years.

Jane: Your dad?

John: No, the guy.

Jane: Oh.

John: And I think he was in a gang for a while.

Jane: Your dad?

Folks, I couldn't make this up. And then this morning, on the N-Judah, embarking at the Powell Street Station:

Man 1: Don't push me.

Man 2: I'm not.

Man 1: Don't push me again. If you push me again...

Man 2: What's your problem?

Man 1: Don't push me.

And then there was a stare down, which got really uncomfortable. Namely because they were two software engineer(y) looking types, neither of whom would fare well in a fist fight.

Question: What's worse than two 30-somethings acting like 11-year-olds?

Answer: Two 40-somethings acting like 11-year-olds.

And then the 40-year-olds got off at the same stop and crossed the street to go into the Google building.

Matchmaking

I don't blog about dating, unless it's about the dating adventures of friends who are now married. Namely, my friend who shall remain nameless. When I met him, he was 36, or 34, and dateless. He casually mentioned that he owned a scale model of the Starship Enterprise. I suggested that he not tell prospective dates that. Ever. I also reminded him that, in order to own a scale model of something, an original must have existed. (He disputes that we had this conversation, and that he ever owned such a thing...now that he's happily married to one of my very funny and gorgeous friends. You know who you are. And so do your hot-tubbing raccoons.)

This weekend I told a bachelor friend - let's call him John Doe - this cautionary tale, of the scale-model-owning bachelor. He laughed. And laughed. And about three hours later, John turned to the attractive woman sitting to his left and said: "I've seen you before. Do you go to pinball?"

Adventures In Moving

I recently walked past a house where the owners were mid-move. They were moving out, which is never as satisfying as moving in. In the midst of a sea of boxes stood a frazzled 50-something couple that looked about 250 years old. Moving does that to you.

So I did what Irma would want me to do.

A-L: I have a message for you, from my mother, who has moved 13,000 times. That message is 'Peace be with you.'

Haggard moving woman, with tears in her eyes: Thank you. Thank you.

What's my point? There is none. It's just that this Thanksgiving week I was looking for an opportunity to give thanks for the fact that I have not moved in almost two years. A near record, for the Frequent Flying Gypsy Sandstrums of Camarillo (formerly of Laihia, Inglewood, Compton, Helsinki, Granada Hills, Simi Valley, Somis, Heusenstamm, Mission Viejo, Los Angeles, Santa Monica, Portland, Salzburg, Camas, Burbank, Pasadena, Palm Desert, Coachella, Encino, Edinburgh, San Francisco - in more or less that order).

Which brings me to this somewhat related memory. When I lived in Burbank I had an Israeli roommate who worked for a moving company called "Let's Move It Right." And our other roommate used to tack on the phrase "this time" to the end. Took the words right out of Irma's mouth.

Shameless Advertising

I work at a book publisher. We publish a book called Bird Songs Bible which features recordings (from the Cornell Lab of Ornithology) of all the birds of North America.

I encourage you to introduce this book to an animal near you, because something super funny, like this, might happen.

Preparations

A-L: I can't wait for Turkey Day.

Sister Maria: We're having ham.

The Joke's On Me

Turns out my Jewish friends weren't joking around. It really is a table blessing. Google: "They tried to kill us. We won. Let's eat."

Potluck Blessing

The Seahorse Whisperer, downstairs neighbor Michael, the Dog Father (aka "DCB"), Calvin, PWR, and two new characters (roommate Aaron, and friend Dana) gathered together last night for a potluck.

A-L: PWR, as a emissary of the Church of Scotland, do you mind saying grace?

PWR: Grace.

A-L: Ok. Uhh, how about you, Dana? Can you say a Jewish dinner blessing?

Dana: There aren't any. Actually, there is one: "They tried to kill us. We won. Let's eat."

Aaron: I've never heard that prayer before.

Dana: Oh, I didn't realize you were Jewish. I thought I could lie to my little Lutheranish friend here.

Aaron: You can. But not about fake Jewish dinner blessings. At least not when I'm here.

A-L: PWR, what's that really unintelligible Scottish blessing you always say?

PWR: Here's tae us. Wha's like us? Damn few, And they're a' deid.

A-L: I think like Dana's prayer better.

Calvin: Grace. Let's eat.

Tattoo

There was a woman on the train this morning who had "Schadenfreude" tattooed on her lower arm.

I'm just sorry it was spelled correctly.

Mistaken Identity

A-L: Did you know Wavy Gravy's wife used to date Bob Dylan?

PWR: Really. Where did you read that?

A-L: On the internets.

PWR: Did you know Bob Dylan has a house in Nethy Bridge near Harris?

A-L: Was that news in the same paper that announced the bankruptcy of the First Lutheran Church in Camarillo? Because somehow I missed it. And who's Harris?

PWR: My nephew.

A-L: Oh, of course, Haggis.

PWR: But his real name is Robert Zuckerman, or something like that.

A-L: Haggis's real name?

PWR: No, Dylan's. What's the name of that Facebook guy?

A-L: I'm having a hard time following this conversation. Mark Zuckerberg is the name of the guy who "invented" Facebook.

PWR: Maybe I'm getting them mixed up.

A-L: Bob Dylan and Mark Zuckerberg?

PWR: Yes.

Ladies and gentleman, I couldn't make this stuff up.

Wavy Gravy

A-L: Let's do something totally absurd this evening.

PWR: I know, let's go listen to Wavy Gravy speak at the Beat Museum.

A-L: Who's he?

PWR: Come on. Everyone knows who Wavy Gravy is.

A-L: Did you?

PWR: Yes. After I followed the link above to Wikipedia.

A-L: Ok, so he's a hippie activist, and was the official clown of The Grateful Dead.

PWR: That's a bit indulgent. Did they *really* need an official clown? Anywho, let's go. It seems like an appropriately San Francisco thing to do.

A-L: Will I be allowed in?

PWR: Why wouldn't you? Because of your shrill laugh?

A-L: No, because my parents voted for Reagan. And Nixon.

PWR: Uh, I don't think anyone will find out, unless you're wearing your "My parents are the only two people in America who don't love the Kennedys" t-shirt?

A-L: That's in the laundry. So is my "Iran Contra, Iran Shmontra" sweatshirt.

PWR: You're safe then. Just don't laugh. Too loudly.

Vocabulary

PWR: What did your friend mean when he said he's "nearsighted"?

A-L: What do you mean "what did he mean"?

PWR: Was he trying to say he can't see the future?

A-L: Precisely.

PWR: Well, that's a bit short-sighted if you ask me.

Welcome

Former flatmate Paul from Scotland is staying in Oakland for a spell. He goes by the moniker "PWR".

A-L: What brings you to the Bay Area?

PWR: A cat.

A-L: You didn't bring Kitty with you, did you? I've tried my darndest to make sure she doesn't find out where I'm living.

PWR: No. I'm cat sitting for Gregor and Caitlin.

Kitty: Those are funny cat names.

PWR: For their cat Astrid.

Kitty: An even funnier cat name.

A-L: That's a long way to travel for a cat sitting gig.

PWR: I'm a professional.

A-L: I thought you did something with computers? Aren't you the one who programmed Kitty to be passive agressive?

Kitty: That's from my mother's side of the family.

A-L: Your first mother was a Chinese man, named Su, who was not passive aggressive.

PWR: But you digress. I'm here for three weeks

A-L: Excellent. I need blog material.

You'll NEVER Guess

Public Safety Pete: You'll never guess who I saw yesterday.

A-L: You're probably right. Give me some hints. Where were you?

PSP: On Sunday morning? Take a wild guess.

A-L: At a motorcycle rally?

PSP: I was at church. It was my turn to usher.

A-L: Is "usher" Latin for "stand in the narthex and gossip through the sermon"? Or is that Yiddish?

PSP: You'll never guess who was ushering with me.

A-L: You're right. Give me another hint.

PSP: Well, you know the First Lutheran Church in Camarillo went bankrupt?

A-L: Umm, not unless it was on NPR. Or was posted at the bus stop in San Francisco. I guess I'll take your word for it. What's the upshot of their financial troubles?

PSP: More Lutherans for our church.

A-L: Ah, of course.

PSP: So I was talking to this other usher...

A-L: You weren't listening to the sermon?

PSP: It was between Acts. And this guy started telling me that he used to live in Simi Valley.

A-L: He's from the bankrupt church?

PSP: Yes.

A-L: The suspense is killing me.

PSP: And he was our milk man when we lived in Simi Valley! Can you believe it?

A-L: That we had a Lutheran milk man? Or that we lived in Simi Valley? Or that you were socializing during church?

Kitty: All of the above.

Retirement

PWR: My dad just retired.

ALS: From what?

PWR: His job.

ALS: But he's a minister. They can't ever retire, right? Aren't they always in the Lord's service?

PWR: Not in Scotland.

ALS: So who's the new minister in Elgin? And how are you going to keep up with the town gossip?

PWR: They haven't replaced him yet. They just formed a committee to choose a committee to find a new minister. So they send out a call to available ministers, and then they listen to them preach.

ALS: So it's like a pastoral audition?

PWR: You could say that.

ALS: So they hear them perform, and then pick the best one?

PWR: Uh huh. The process takes about 6 months.

ALS: So who's preaching in the meantime?

PWR: They have some travelling preachers that fill in.

ALS: It seems odd to me that didn't have a replacement ready for when your dad retired.

PWR: That's just the way they do it. I guess it gives them time to reflect on what they're looking for.

ALS: Like they might go with a project manager instead of a minister? And how are you going to keep up with the town gossip now that you can't listen in to the parishioners spilling their family secrets over the pastoral dinner table?

PWR: I'm subscribed to a web site that alerts me to all the gossip.

Overheard

Overheard, on a recent US Airways flight from Birmingham to Charlotte...

Flight Attendant: Would you like ice in your wine?

Unfortunately I didn't hear the answer.

Como Se Dice?

A-L: How do you say "you're going to grow a third eye" in Spanish?

The Seahorse Whisperer: Is that a question in a Spanish workbook?

A-L: No, it's a public safety announcement.

TSW: From Public Safety Pedro?

A-L: No, from Public Safety Pedro's reasonably-concerned-for-health-and-safety child.

TSW: Who is going to grow a third eye?

A-L: The guy who is painting the interior courtyard walls with that toxic smelling paint, and not wearing a mask. I just spoke English loudly at him, and then dropped in "pelligro" and "cuidado". And then I said "you'll grow a third eye".

TSW: And?

A-L: He went and got a mask on.

Kitty: And earplugs.

Knock, Knock

Annais and Aila are HUGE fans of Knock, Knock jokes. HUGE. They like making up their own. Below is one that Sister Maria and I heard a couple hundred times. With Annais's spot-on comedic timing, it only got funnier.

Annais: Knock, knock.

Sister Maria: Who's there?

Annais: Cake.

Sister Maria: Cake who?

Annais: Cake in your face.

Repeat several times. Punctuate with raucous laughter from Aila, Sister Maria and A-L. And then this...

Annais: Okay, I've got a good one.

A-L: Let's hear it.

Annais: Knock, knock.

A-L: Who's there?

Annais: Cake.

A-L: Cake who?

Annais: Cake in your face.

Mother, May I

Spent the Easter Weekend with the pygmy marmosets. Pulling out of the driveway one evening, the dome light in the car turns off. A voice from the back seat...

Aila: Hey, Mom. I can't see. Turn the light back on.

Mom (aka Sister Maria): How do you ask nicely?

Annais: May I please see?

A Cat By Any Other Name

The Seahorse Whisperer: You'll NEVER guess what happened on the flight back to Omaha.

A-L: You went to Omaha?

TSW: No. My sister, the Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother's mother, finished her rotation at the hospital in San Francisco, and took the Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother back to Omaha, to be reunited with the Thumb-Sucking Cat.

A-L: Did they get upgraded to first class after the flight crew found out who his brother was?

TSW: Not quite. The sedatives wore off halfway through the flight, and the Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother went crazy. He started biting his way out of his cat carrier. And apparently my sister's right index finger tastes like cat carrier, because he bit it. Super hard.

A-L: Maybe he heard her talking about dropping him off at the pound.

TSW: It's possible. But she ended up with a pretty severe bite, and spent the last three days in the hospital. On Saturday the doctor told her she had a 15% chance of losing her index finger. But now she's on the mend. And her finger is getting better.

JB: At least it wasn't her thumb.

A-L: Too right. Then we'd have to call him The Thumb-Sucking Cat's Thumb-Biting Brother. I much prefer The Thumb-Sucking Cat's Frequent Flying Finger Biting Brother.

Parlez Vous Office Furniture

French colleague, JC, was in town for a visit to HQ.

JC: I will leave the folder at the box.

A-L: My mail box?

JC: No, at the box. Where you sit. I don't think I could work in these boxes.

A-L: We call them cubicles. But it is like a box, with a hole on one side for entry, and no lid.

Kitty: Sounds ideal.

Moving Out

The Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother is moving back to Omaha.

Going-Away dinner tonight.

Call for details.

Dogs welcome.

Word of the Day

Dear Readers,

I'd like to introduce you to a word invented by my Scottish friend, GW:

snoo·fa definition

Pronunciation: /snu'-fə/
or snoo·fa Pronunciation: /-(ˌ)fō/
Function: n
: A snooze on a sofa.

Origin:
2009–10; orig. Scottish.

—Can be confused: snooze.

Airport Travails

Caroline: Help me.

A-L: Where are you?

Caroline: At PDX. On Standby. With a two-year-old. Two flights have left without me.

A-L: Peace be with you. But I don't have any babysitting contacts at PDX. I'm assuming that's what you need?

Caroline: I'd take a gin gimlet. I've been here since 4 am.

A-L: Is there a bookstore near you?

Caroline: Not one that serves cocktails.

A-L: And you didn't bring a laptop so you could watch Magnum P.I.?

Caroline: One of the many things I forgot.

A-L: Well, Caroline, I suggest people watching. PDX is a great place for that.

Caroline: You're kidding. Surely LAX, JFK, LHR, CDG, NRT, MIA and IDO would be better spots for that.

A-L: How wrong you are. You won't find better than seeing folks who travel once every 15 years coming off a puddle-jumper from Cheyenne, Wyoming navigating the maze that is PDX en route to their connection to Springfield, Oregon.

Caroline: I suppose.

A-L: Once I landed at PDX and passed a man sitting in the waiting area holding a cat, who clearly did not want to be in this man's lap, or at the airport. You won't see that in Paris, or Rio, or Tokyo.

Caroline: Yeah, nothin' says "Welcome to Portland" like an angry/scared cat.

Kitty: Except maybe a thumb-sucking one.

The Pipefish Whisperer

Kitty: So what's the origin of the name "The Seahorse Whisperer"?

A-L: It's a play on the very popular and much over-used verbal trick of adding "Whisperer" after an animal's name. Like "The Horse Whisperer" or "The Dog Whisperer". It indicates a person's ability to charm/tame/understand/train said animal.

Kitty: Psst, don't talk to me like I'm an imbecile.

A-L: Morgan's studying evolutionary biology, and concentrating her work on seahorses and pipefish.

Kitty: And Pipefish Whisperer doesn't sound as good.

Fame - Part Deux

Public Safety Pete: Who is Steve Miller?

A-L: Is this a Knock Knock joke?

PSP: No, that would have started with "Knock Knock".

A-L: Who's there?

Kitty: Steve Miller.

PSP: I don't know who that is.

Kitty: You were supposed to say "Steve Miller who".

PSP: Exactly.

A-L: He's a musician. I don't know how he's escaped your attention.

PSP: I've been busy.

A-L: Anyway, he hugged downstairs neighbor Michael. And now he's famous.

Tour Idea

A-L: What's new, temporary Scandi roommate?

Åsa: I have a brilliant business idea. I'm going to give tours of IKEA. Downstairs neighbor Michael and the Seahorse Whisperer have never been there.

Å-L: You're kidding.

Åsa: The Seahorse Whisperer spends all her time in windowless biology labs, and Michael is devoted to Craigslist. But I imagine there are others out there. And what better way to introduce people to the magic of IKEA, than having a Swede tour them around?

Kitty: Having a Finn tour them around?

Åsa: I would explain ALL the Swedish words, and their relevance and historical and cultural significance.

Å-L: My sister caught chicken pox (in the play area) at the IKEA outside Frankfurt in 1979. Could you incorporate that into your presentation?

Åsa: That could possibly be an anecdote played on the headsets on the ride over to IKEA, but it's not particularly relevant.

Kitty: Or interesting.

Åsa: And I'm not sure the higher-ups at IKEA would endorse a tour that highlights the petri dish-like nature of the play area. But you digress. The tour would end with a fabulous meal at the IKEA cafeteria, and everyone would get a pack of tea lights.

Sign ups accepted now.

Fame

A-L: Hi Michael, what's new?

Michael: I met Steve Miller the other day.

A-L: Do I know him?

Michael: You're a joker.

A-L: Oh, THAT Steve Miller. Was he nice?

Michael: He hugged me.

Thanksgiving in March

I'm thankful:

• That the Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother has only peed in my room twice
• That cat pee isn't blue
  
• That the muffler I saw on the side of the 101 isn't mine
• That the dishwasher in the middle lane of the 880 this morning isn't mine
• for Silvio Berlusconi, who brings an element of comedy to corruption and international politics

Update from Portland

A-L: What's new?

Caroline: I've been re-watching 1980s sitcoms in my free time.

A-L: Simon and Simon?

Caroline: Magnum P.I. I've just gone through all eight seasons.

A-L: Wow, eight years is a long time.

Caroline: Too long, if I may say so. It went a bit "Miami Vice" in season eight. But there's something really comforting about watching a favorite childhood sitcom. Seeing Tom Selleck takes me back to my elementary school days in Arkansas.

A-L: I think I'm really confused about Arkansas now.

Caroline: I highly recommend taking in a few hundred hours of an old show. Besides, I love Tom Selleck.

A-L: I don't have a television. But I suppose The Seahorse Whisperer, Roommate Will and I could re-enact scenes from Dallas, focusing on the years before Bobby came back from the dead.

Kitty: I'll play Sue Ellen.

RIP Corey Haim

In the immortal (and oft repeated here) words of Sara, "can you even?"

Kitty: I totally can't.

Thumb-Suckings Cat's Brother for Sale (or free to a good home)

A-L: You'll never guess what happened.

Caroline: You're right.

A-L: The Sea-Horse Whisperer's Sister's Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother jumped up on my bed last night and...

Caroline: Peed with impunity?

A-L: How'd you know?

Caroline: Everyone comes to me with cat pee stories.

A-L: I don't suppose you have any of that coyote urine left?

Caroline: Um, that wouldn't help you. The Thumb-Sucker's Brother is peeing in your room not because he sees Steve and Fake Steve in the yard, but because he's been traumatized by the move across country.

A-L: I think he wants my room. It gets morning sun and has a nice closet.

Caroline: No, he's in distress. He misses Omaha, and his brother.

A-L: I do suppose San Francisco is quite a change. He's started wearing skinny jeans. And he's also been self-harming. He has scratched two bald spots on his forehead.

Caroline: Do you want me to send you my, er, dog-eared copy of Think Like a Cat?

A-L: Will that get cat pee out of down comforter?

Caroline: No, you need Anti Icky Poo for that.

Overheard

"I don't care if she's had plastic surgery, it works."
Sheila on Demi Moore

"It's just a house."
Brussels/Edinburgh/DC Steven on The White House

"But our center of government is just a door."
Brussels/Edinburgh/DC Steven on 10 Downing Street

The Amazing Thumb-Sucking Cat, Almost

The Seahorse Whisperer: My older sister's cat is coming to stay with us for a while.

A-L: Cool. Anything special we should know about him?

TSW's Younger Sister: He might be a thumb-sucker.

Peter the Greek: His own, or someone else's?

TSW: His own.

A-L: Why do you say he "might" suck his thumb?

TSW's Younger Sister: We're not sure if it's him or his brother.

Peter the Greek: Could you call your older sister and ask?

A-L: I'd rather be surprised.

---

Boo has arrived. Turns out he's the Amazing Thumb-Sucking Cat's Brother. In case you need yet ANOTHER reason to visit San Francisco. For a limited time only.

Dress Code

Peter the Greek: I'm going to Meditation this week.

A-L: That sounds relaxing. Maybe The Seahorse Whisperer and our new temporary Scandi subletter will want to come along.

P-the-G: Um, ok.

Kitty: Don't you mean "om, ok"?

Day of Meditation Class...

A-L: The others have backed out. They're busy. But I'll come along. Don't tell my Lutheran Republican parents.

P-the-G: Shirley they know that it's all part of the San Francisco experience. You HAVE to go to a meditation class. Just like you HAVE to do yoga, and buy a bicycle, and eat salted caramel ice cream at Bi-Rite, and have dinner at that weird sushi place that's only open a couple nights a week.

A-L: True. What does one wear to Meditation class?

P-the-G: The Queen wears tie-dyed stretch pants. But you should just wear something comfortable.

Early Morning Coffee Shop Music Debate

J and Z are working the coffee counter at the Velo Rouge Cafe this morning.

Z: Music, please. But, please, not Christina Aguilera.

J: I'll put that on when Mack gets here. He's a huge music snob. And I'm not. I mean, it's all music. Right? Really, what's the difference between Radiohead and Christina Aguilera?

A-L: The spelling.

J: I'm glad you know the answer to that question.

Part 2: What *NOT* to Say

We celebrated a belated Christmas this weekend at Reckless Cousin Tina's house. The kids were opening presents.

Aila (upon receiving a multi-colored shirt): This doesn't go with anything!

Beautiful Sunny Day In San Francisco

Yesterday morning. At the house. Getting ready to leave.

Roommate Morgan (aka "The Seahorse Whisperer", but more on that later): Wow, it's beautiful outside.

A-L: It is. I think I'll drive 35 miles down the Peninsula and spend the day working in a cubicle.

The Seahorse Whisperer: I think I'll go spend the day sitting in a windowless lab.

Roommate Will: I think I'll go spend the day in the theater with a bunch of middle schoolers.

Kitty: You win.

That Elusive Kitchen Table

A-L: I need help finding a kitchen table.

Peter-the-Greek: Did the old one run away?

A-L: In a sense. It went to a better home. Downstairs Neighbor and Former Roommate Michael (aka "Jewish Downstairs Neighbor/Sound Engineer Michael") was bequeathed the table by a former roommate. So we had to let her go.

P the G: What's the problem? Kitchen tables practically fall from the sky in a city of renters.

A-L: That's exactly what I'm hoping for. I want the perfect kitchen table to land in our kitchen. Upright. I'm tempted just to go to IKEA.

P the G: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo! You can't just go to IKEA.

Downstairs Neighbor and Former Roommate Michael: Hi. What are you guys talking about?

A-L: The case of the missing kitchen table.

P the G: Our job is to stop her from going to IKEA.

DN+FRM: Craigslist all the way.

P the G: I don't know about "all the way". I have rule: If a cat can pee on it, I won't buy it from Craigslist.

A-L: I'm against Craigslist because it involves a lot of legwork. And what *can't* a cat pee on?

Caroline: True dat.

DN+FRM: We'll do the work for you. Peter and I will find the tables, and e-mail you the links.

P the G: In between looking for dates.

A-L: Too much work.

P the G: Reading an e-mail is too much work?

A-L: Vetting the kitchen table choices, calling the owners to make appointments to "meet" the tables, driving 930 blocks to look at them...that's too much work. I believe my patience will be rewarded.

Kitty: Until then, dinner in the garage.

Update from Dingwall

Norette, our Highlands correspondent, and I had the following conversation...

A-L: Hi. How's life in Dingwall?

Norette: Busy as ever. I'm getting ready for my Birthday party.

A-L: It's not for months.

Norette: The 15th of May is right around the corner. Will you be here?

A-L: Och, aye. What's the theme?

Norette: How'd you know there'd be a theme?

A-L: Just a hunch.

Norette: The theme is Around the World in 80 Days. It's Fancy Dress, so you have to come dressed as something from a country. Ideally one you want to visit.

A-L: I've always wanted to go to Brazil, but there's now way I'll be able to fit this outfit in my carry-on.

Norette: What about a Finnish National Costume?

A-L: I think you have to know how to do origami to make that hat, and I just don't have the patience for it.

Norette: Well, if you need any inspiration, Gemma and I are going to be in Kimonos. And my friend Bev is going to be the Statue of Liberty.

A-L: Wow. Sound great.

Norette: And my granny is going flamenco.

A-L: I'm not familiar with the term.

The Greek Woody Allen

A-L: How are you?

Peter the Greek: I think I'm turning into Woody Allen.

A-L: Tell me more.

Peter the Greek: I just feel like I'm channeling him, more and more.

A-L: But you're Greek.

Peter the Greek: So?

A-L: And you're not neurotic.

Peter the Greek: And?

A-L: And you're not a short divorced Jewish screenwriter and actor.

Peter the Greek: Ok. I'm Larry David as Woody Allen.