SETTING: Real life, elementary school, walking to my car.
LITTLE GIRL: Mom - can I get the "California Girls" song on my iPod?
MOM: Oh - yeah of course - the Beach Boys song?
LITTLE GIRL: No mom. Katy Perry!
MOM: I didn't know Katy Perry did a version of California Girls. We'll look it up when we get home.
This, my friends, is the kind of conversation that makes me scared of having kids.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
What's New Pussy-Cat?
My cat sleeps with me a lot.
Like.
A lot.
And this is not a necessarily easy task. You see - I have a bunk bed and I sleep on top. Thus my cat, who is very large (and on a diet) must strategically jump from the bottom bunk, to a dresser, to my bed. For a slightly awkward, but non-the-less-endearing, fifteen pound feline - it is practically Olympic.
This has caused no limit of grief for my sister. Bluebell, the super-sized sassbucket, is actually her cat. My sister, Joanna, sleeps on the bottom bunk. A bunk in which Bluebell must jump to get to me. Sometimes, Blue will sleep with Joanna (as it should be) but mostly she sleeps with me.
Life is not without balance however. It does seem that every time this cat sleeps on my bed - I am visited by crazy nightmares. It is my now completely reasonable assumption that the fuzzy body curled into my legs is actually transmitting some sort of sinister thought waves into my sleeping brain. Maybe it is just some sort of karmic payback for the cat favoring me over her owner? Who knows.
Maybe that's why they say to not let cats in the cradle.
I'll let you know if she kills me.
Like.
A lot.
And this is not a necessarily easy task. You see - I have a bunk bed and I sleep on top. Thus my cat, who is very large (and on a diet) must strategically jump from the bottom bunk, to a dresser, to my bed. For a slightly awkward, but non-the-less-endearing, fifteen pound feline - it is practically Olympic.
This has caused no limit of grief for my sister. Bluebell, the super-sized sassbucket, is actually her cat. My sister, Joanna, sleeps on the bottom bunk. A bunk in which Bluebell must jump to get to me. Sometimes, Blue will sleep with Joanna (as it should be) but mostly she sleeps with me.
Life is not without balance however. It does seem that every time this cat sleeps on my bed - I am visited by crazy nightmares. It is my now completely reasonable assumption that the fuzzy body curled into my legs is actually transmitting some sort of sinister thought waves into my sleeping brain. Maybe it is just some sort of karmic payback for the cat favoring me over her owner? Who knows.
Maybe that's why they say to not let cats in the cradle.
I'll let you know if she kills me.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Temperature That's Keeping You Warm
I am not really much for science. I appreciate it. I am impressed by it. Whenever I was in a science class I enjoyed the learning of it. When I taught science to grade school kids - I thought the experiments were clever. I'm just not really one for science in the oh-my-gosh-I-DVR-every-Bill-Nye-and-subscribe-to-journals-so-I-could-do-surgery-on-a-plane type of person.
All this being said - I love that there are two different ways of telling temperature. I love that there is Celsius and Fahrenheit. Here is why:
Scenario one.) It is a hot cook-an-egg-over-easy-on-the-asphalt kind of day. You drive by a bank or some other establishment that has the temperature flashing on their board. It says 110 degrees Fahrenheit. one hundred and ten. Now that just sounds HOT. Much hotter than the corresponding 48 degrees Celsius.
Scenario two.) This is an inverted example of scenario one. It is a cold freeze-to-death-because-of-wind-chill kind of day. You drive by the same bank and see the tacky red numbers flash the temperature. Fahrenheit reads 14 degrees. Now - that is freaking cold, but it doesn't seem nearly as cold as the -10 degrees Celsius that flashes on the board next. In your mind - the world feels much closer to -10 than 14 degrees even though the mean the exact same thing.
So in summary - I like science because it makes it easier for me to give into my hyperbolic tendencies.
All this being said - I love that there are two different ways of telling temperature. I love that there is Celsius and Fahrenheit. Here is why:
Scenario one.) It is a hot cook-an-egg-over-easy-on-the-asphalt kind of day. You drive by a bank or some other establishment that has the temperature flashing on their board. It says 110 degrees Fahrenheit. one hundred and ten. Now that just sounds HOT. Much hotter than the corresponding 48 degrees Celsius.
Scenario two.) This is an inverted example of scenario one. It is a cold freeze-to-death-because-of-wind-chill kind of day. You drive by the same bank and see the tacky red numbers flash the temperature. Fahrenheit reads 14 degrees. Now - that is freaking cold, but it doesn't seem nearly as cold as the -10 degrees Celsius that flashes on the board next. In your mind - the world feels much closer to -10 than 14 degrees even though the mean the exact same thing.
So in summary - I like science because it makes it easier for me to give into my hyperbolic tendencies.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Ho ho ho
I miss Christmas music.
I miss the cheery tunes and people humming them as they shop and street musicians playing them on the corners. There are already less Christmas lights up on the drive home. A few houses have already given up the ghost. Two days after and people are already calling it quits on the holiday spirit. Seems to me that people are being a little pre-spirits-visit-Scrooge. Would it kill you to keep them up until the epiphany?
On another note - I got to drive out to the middle of no-where with my family to visit my grandmother on Christmas. It is always such a funny nostalgic experiences whenever I am in my grandmother's house. Sometimes - I feel like I am remembering stories of what people have told me happened there even though I don't actually remember it. Amazing how the mind fills. Tell yourself something often enough and you will start to believe it.
I start a new job a week from today.
w00t.
I miss the cheery tunes and people humming them as they shop and street musicians playing them on the corners. There are already less Christmas lights up on the drive home. A few houses have already given up the ghost. Two days after and people are already calling it quits on the holiday spirit. Seems to me that people are being a little pre-spirits-visit-Scrooge. Would it kill you to keep them up until the epiphany?
On another note - I got to drive out to the middle of no-where with my family to visit my grandmother on Christmas. It is always such a funny nostalgic experiences whenever I am in my grandmother's house. Sometimes - I feel like I am remembering stories of what people have told me happened there even though I don't actually remember it. Amazing how the mind fills. Tell yourself something often enough and you will start to believe it.
I start a new job a week from today.
w00t.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
You're A Mean One
Tis the season for much holiday music listening. Anyone who knows me knows this isn't a big deal since I listen to Christmas music 365/24/7 anyway. Hellllllo ten hours of iTunes tinsel-y glory. At work we have on a generic Christmas station - and I love it. Except there are a few songs that I just will never like and don't understand.
First: I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Did anyone else know that this is supposed to be a song about the kid seeing his mom kissing his dad and thinking it was santa? Because I sure didn't pick up on that. I thought it was mom cheating on dad with an old creepy dude. Always have, until someone told me otherwise this year. I think they are lying and that this song is just weird.
Second: Santa Baby. Material girl of the Christmas season will prostitute herself out for stuff. Plus - every rendition I have ever heard of it is so painfully crooned it makes me uncomfortable to listen to it in public.
Third: Last Christmas. It is just the worst song ever.
Anyone else have certain songs that just make them want to go the way of The Grinch?
First: I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus. Did anyone else know that this is supposed to be a song about the kid seeing his mom kissing his dad and thinking it was santa? Because I sure didn't pick up on that. I thought it was mom cheating on dad with an old creepy dude. Always have, until someone told me otherwise this year. I think they are lying and that this song is just weird.
Second: Santa Baby. Material girl of the Christmas season will prostitute herself out for stuff. Plus - every rendition I have ever heard of it is so painfully crooned it makes me uncomfortable to listen to it in public.
Third: Last Christmas. It is just the worst song ever.
Anyone else have certain songs that just make them want to go the way of The Grinch?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
