So Random

Last 5 songs added to my iPod - 
Town Without Pity by Gene Pitney
Manifesto by The City Harmonic
A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James
Home Again by Carole King
Be My Yoko Ono by Barenaked Ladies

Question of the Week
Why doesn't work give us Leap Day as a paid holiday? They would only have to pay us once every 4 years. I mean, how cheap are they?????

How many Flav-o-Ices I have had today - 
Five (1 purple, 2 red, 1 blue, 1 orange)

Which Oscar-nominated films I had seen by the time the awards were given - 
7 - Moneyball, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt 2, War Horse, Midnight in Paris, The Help, Bridesmaids, and Rango.

The average time at night at which I am really really ready to go to bed and sleep - 
7:30 pm

Three of the atheist bumper stickers I saw yesterday on one SUV -
"Abstinence Makes the Church Grow Fondlers"
"The Bible - a grim fairy tale"
"What an Imaginary Friend We Have in Jesus"
This lady had at least a dozen of them plastered all over the back of her car. She did not want there to be any doubt about how she felt about religion in general and Christianity in particular. Despite finding the intensity of the display to be a little sad, I have to admit that the first one is kind of clever.

Results of conversation with coworker about who the hottest woman in Hollywood is - 
Coworker - Zoe Saldana or Olivia Wilde
Me - Angelina Jolie when she starred in the first Lara Croft Tombraider, but since she's turned into creepy bony woman, then....ah... maybe Mila Kunis.

Tiggers are not invincible

I was sick all weekend. In the post below I wrote that I thought I got sick from food I ate. Now I am pretty sure that I got a stomach virus and not food poisoning. Last Wednesday I filled in for a friend at a class she teaches for kids at the church. Attending this class was a 3 year old boy, whom I have had the pleasure of being around before. His parents have dropped him off at nursery on their way to Big Church a couple times when I have been working nursery duty.  He is blonde and build solidly, with seemingly boundless energy. I have never heard him speak a word, but he makes himself known. He is the closest thing I can imagine to Tigger in human form (and I shall call him Tigger in this post). I have seen him throw himself up in the air and land hard on the ground with seemingly no pain or injury to himself, only to stand back up, smile a quick huge smile, and take off running again. In fact, he seemed to bounce when he hit the ground. I have seen him run into furniture and walls while playing. Never a tear. Never an indication that he hurt himself. Barely even causes him to pause what he is doing. He seems almost indestructible.

He's not much of a listener and he wasn't that Wednesday night either. As I tried to explain a story of Elijah and the many prophets of Baal, he was his usual self, running around, rolling on the floor, lightly bonking other kids on the head with the foam rubber floor mats. I wouldn't expect a 3 year old to listen to the story, especially this 3 year old. The other teacher in the class attempted to keep him under control as best she could. After the story, we played a quick game. We were running late and we had practically no time left to hand out snacks before the parents would come. I noticed that Tigger was lying on the carpet. He was surprising still, like he had fallen asleep. I thought he must have worn himself out, although I had never seen him get tired before. I turned to get some water for another kid and I heard Tigger's sister say, "Why is your face so red?" followed quickly by a group "Yewwww..."

I turned to see that Tigger had thrown up on the carpet. He was quiet, not crying, but had this surprised look on his face, like "what just happened?". I turned to get some paper towels and the next thing I knew he had stood up and thrown up again. The front of him was covered with vomit, luckily very little food, mostly liquid. I scooped him up like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold (I didn't want to get the vomity part next to my clothes) and took him to the bathroom. I sat him on the edge of the sink and cleaned him up best I could. He made no sound at all, just sat quietly and calmly, looking at me while I wiped his hands and legs. I had never seen him so subdued. I carried him back to the classroom and his parents were there to pick him up. While the other teacher dealt with snacks and the other kids, I proceeded to clean up the vomit from the floor. I washed my hands several times during this process and used hand sanitizer when I was done.

When I first got sick, I did not connect it to that Wednesday night and little Tigger throwing up, but I think now that is where it came from. I had blamed it on the spicy chicken sandwich from Wendy's and had sworn never to eat another. While the chicken sandwich has now been exonerated as the cause of my digestive upset, I still am not sure I will ever eat one again, after seeing it displayed in such a different form hours later all over my chest and lap. It was pleasantly spicy going down and unpleasantly spicy coming back up. I was not expecting to see it again when it suddenly reappeared. I probably had that same weird look of surprise on my face that Tigger did on Wednesday.

The Early Bird Gets the Soup?

I was really in the mood for chicken wild rice soup from Panera. I was standing in line there, next to be waited on, and the lady from the bakery called out that she could take the next person. A bit reluctantly I walked over to her register. Right as I approaching, a woman who the bakery girl had just finished up with was standing at the register tucking away her change and receipt. I waited for her to vamoose. Suddenly she piped and said, "What are those?" She pointed to the pastry case. The bakery girl looked at me and then at her and said "Cinnamon rolls." "Ooh, can I get one of those?"she said, as she glanced over at me, adding, "Sorry, I'll be just a sec." The bakery lady looked at me again. I looked at her, as if to say, really? I walked all the way over here and now you can't help me? The woman fumbled through her wallet for money, as the bakery girl fetched and rang up her cinnamon roll. It took forever. Finally the woman left, pausing to say to me with a smile, "There you go." I walked up and ordered my soup. My soup. That's all I wanted. No salad. No sandwich. I gave her Panera card and then my debit card. She gave me a receipt. I walked over to the pick up area. There was one woman waiting, other than me. She was the woman who had been in line in back of me when I had been waiting at the first register. Behind the counter, I heard someone say loudly, "Hey, we're out of wild rice!" Another woman, who was dressed more like a manager, looked over the situation and then called, "Marlene? Kelly?" I and the other customer raised our hands. "Sorry," she said, "We ran out of wild rice soup." Just then another worker tapped her and said something quietly. She turned back to us and said, "Oh. Marlene? Here you go." She slid a bag across the counter top to the other woman. "Kelly?" she asked me. I nodded. "Sorry we're out of wild rice soup." Marlene, who came in behind me, was getting the last serving of chicken and wild rice soup! It was only 5:40 pm and they were out of soup? I hope that other lady chokes on her last minute impulsive cinnamon roll! Ok, not really, but I will never leave the line to go to the bakery again.

Update - I seem to have gotten a case of food poisoning. I suspect it is from the chicken sandwich that I ate instead of the soup from Panera that I really wanted. Oh, how I wish I had gotten some soup instead.

Three Things for Thursday

I think I might be allergic to the new rocker cushions - oh no. I had some hives on my elbows, the back of my knees, and the backs and sides of my thighs, the parts of my body that rub up against the cushions the most when I sit in it. I am hoping that a bout of hives is not on its way. I am remembering my bout twenty something years ago that lasted a miserable 9 months. I am not sitting in the rocking chair for a few days to see if it clears up.

I don't understand the H & R Block commercials. They show a sales person offering a customer the top of the line item (camera, bike) for free and then telling them that of course it isn't free because how could they give their best stuff away fro free? Makes the sales person out to be a nasty jerk. Then the ad says H &R is offering free federal tax return filing. Are they trying to say that H & R Block is the a$$hole salesman who will offer you something free and then take it back? Are they saying that H & R Block's free service isn't that good, because how could they give their best stuff away for free? Either way, it makes H & R Block out to be a bunch of jerks.

I was listening to NPR on the way home last night and they were doing an interview with this author and researcher. He was citing a recent study at the University of California San Diego about spoilers. Many people, myself included, believe that not knowing how the story will turn out, makes the reading a book or watching a movie more fun and more absorbing. We do not want to know how the movie ends and we are amazed at those people who read the last chapter of a book before reading the whole thing. I think, "How could they do that? It spoils the story!" When we read entertainment magazines, they are always giving up spoiler alerts - meaning that coming up in the article is some information which will take away some of the surprise of the story - so that we can skip the article if we don't want to know. In the study at the UCSD, they had 3 groups of subjects. In one group, the subjects reads books and short stories where there was no indication given about how the story would turn out and they read the text as is. In the 2nd group, there were hints about the story's ending added throughout the original text, which the subjects would come upon as they were reading. In the 3rd group, each book or short story had a preface that told the basic outline of what would happen in the story. The subjects in this group read the preface before even starting the book. Then each group was to write a review of the story or book and rate it for overall enjoyment. Interestingly enough, the pleasure of the story increased when the readers were given information about how the story would end. The 2nd group, who was given hints sprinkled throughout the text, enjoyed the story more overall than the 1st group, who was not told anything. The 3rd group, for whom there were practically no surprises, had a greater overall pleasure in reading than the 2nd group. The researchers theorize that a reader who is in too much suspense is not having a good time and is not relaxed enough to pick up on other more fun details of the writing, because they are too entrenched in trying to figure out the ending. They also theorize that surprise endings, which so many writers strive for, are not as fun for the reader as they are for the writer, who gains a lot of satisfaction from coming up with one.They believe these findings can be applied to movie watchers also. When I heard this report, my first reaction was to deny there was any validity to it. I am a staunch believer that not knowing the ending increases the fun of the story. Yet, when I thought it about my experience recently with reading, I found some evidence to back the study up a bit. I read the book, A Game of Thrones, very quickly partially because I knew that characters would die but I didn't know which ones and I didn't know when. I wanted to find that information out quickly. (I also read it quickly because I enjoyed the writing itself). I wonder, if I knew up front who would die, would I read a little slower and take in more of the detail? Would I be able to enjoy the author's path to that death and marvel more at how he got there, if I knew whose death it would be? Also, about half way through the first book, a friend of mine who had read all the books in the series told me a theory he had about a couple of the characters, a theory  that was not confirmed by the last book but that could still be true as there are more books coming out now. I almost stopped him from telling me this theory, but I didn't of course. Afterward. as I read chapters about those characters, I was really enjoying looking for clues to see if this theory could be true. I am also reading Pride & Prejudice. I know this story's ending all too well, but that fact has not prevented me from enjoying the book. I wonder if I was reading the book with no knowledge of (spoiler alert!! ha ha) the eventual marriage of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, would I just be reading it to relieve the tension of wanting to know if it turns out okay for them? Am I able to sit back and enjoy the writing itself MORE because there is no anxiety of the unknown?  Perhaps UCSD's study has something to say about me.

Meeting the Neighbors

Warning: The following contains swear words of the F type.

I watch the Superbowl at Cara's house. I leave her house around 11:30 pm for the short drive home. When I get home, there are no spaces left in the parking lot in front of my apartment building. Now my building only has 4 apartments. The lot has 7 spaces, including a spot on the grass under a large tree. All 7 spaces are filled and someone has parked perpendicular to those 7 cars, blocking in 3 of them. There is no street parking allowed. I murmur a little curse inside my head. I park the wrong direction and block in 3 of the remaining cars. I look around to see who might be having a party. I work hard to get my anger under control. I pay rent here dammit, I think. I am not going to get a parking ticket because someone was having a party! There are lights on in both apartments upstairs. I go into my apartment to pee. While sitting on the toilet, through the bathroom, I see the light to the laundry room in the back of the building go on. I quickly pull myself together to run outside and see who's doing laundry. It is the couple upstairs catty-corner from me. I ask them if they have guests visiting. The guy wearily sighs and says no. I tell them there is no place to park. He points to the apartment across the courtyard. This is in a different building. The apartments on that side are much pricier and bigger and nicer than ours. I have never seen an apartment in that building. But I will now. I walk over and go up the wooden stairs to the french front door. I see two men lounging on a huge sectional couch. There is a table set up and crushed beer cans all over it. A little of the kitchen counter is visible and I can see it is messy with food and beer bottles. A guy in a baseball gets up off the couch and pulls the door open.

Me: Hi, I live in the building next door. I am wondering if you guys have guests that might be parked in the parking lot next door.

Baseball Cap Guy (BCG): Umm, where? Yea, probably.

Me: Well, I live next door and there is no place for me to park. I was wondering if anyone is leaving soon or could move their car so I can park mine.

BCG: What do the cars look like? The ones you want moved.

Me: Well I don't know. There is an orangy brown small car and a silver car that might be a Toyota or a Honda. I don't remember specifically.

BCG: Well a couple of people just went to the beach. It might be their cars. Let me try to call them.

He takes out his cell phone and dials a number. He does not appear obviously drunk.

Drunk Guy #1 appears behind the Baseball Cap Guy. He walks right up to me and I can smell the beer on his breath. He is not walking quite straight and his speech is a bit slurred. He seems slightly annoyed that I have interrupted them, but he does not act hostile.

Drunk Guy #1 (DG1): What's up? What's the problem?

Me: Well I need to go to bed. I have to work tomorrow and I need to get my car parked.

DG1: Just park in back of people. It don't matter. You see my sister just had a baby and we are getting drunk to celebrate it and no one is going to move their car.

BCG: (to DG1) It's okay. Let just me try to call Albert and see if they can move their car.

DG1 now comes out of the apartment and is standing on the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Because he has come out of the door, I have had to back out onto the balcony myself.

DG1: Where are you talking about? What cars? Just park in the street, man. Look, look, look, my black Jetta is parked over here. You can park in back of me and nothing's gonna happen.

Me: Where is your car?

DG1: Over here. Over here.

A black laborador retriever trots out onto the balcony and immediately starts licking my hand. BCG is trying to dial another number now. A second drunk guy, taller and much older comes to the door.

Drunk Guy #2 (DG2): Hey, no one's going anywhere tonight (he smiles drunkenly). There is beer to be drunk and we are hanging.

DG1: Just park by my Jetta. It's all cool, man.

Me: Where is your Jetta?

Now there is a baby gate lying across the balcony but halfway fallen down. DG1 is having a very hard time negotiating past it. He makes several attempts to step over the gate, before he finally and ungracefully manages. I pick up the gate and rest it against the wicker couch on their porch, so that I can walk to the end of the porch to see. DG2 comes out onto the balcony but soon disappears back inside, uninterested in our conversation.

DG1: See? It's parked right there. That property is owned by the same people who own this property so they won't care. Right there.

He points to the house next to their building. I see a black car parked in a driveway and a space next to that car, where, I guess, I could park. The thought hits me that if that is such a fine parking space, why did some of them park in our lot?

Me: I don't know. I don't want to have to pay for a parking ticket.

BCG: No one's answering. Look they should be back soon. They could move the car then.

DG1: Dude, she can park there. It's totally cool. Nothing's gonna happen. I guaran-fucking-tee it!

BCG: What kind of cars were they again?

Me: A silver sedan like a Toyota or Honda, a orangy small car, and oh yeah, a boxy kind of car. What are those? Ummmm....like a Scion.

DG1: (pointing at the building across the street and still kind of slurring) Why don't you just park there? No one's gonna fuckin' care. Look there's an empty spot.

Me: Yeah, but that means I would be taking that spot from someone who lives over there. I don't want to do that.

DG1: Trust me. No one's gonna care. I guarantee it. You'll be fine.

Me: Okay, but I am gonna need your name and address, so when I get that parking ticket, I can bill you for it.

I smile and BCG smiles back.

DG1: No fucking way! I ain't givin' out my name to no one. You not gonna get my name or address for nothing!

BCG: You have to excuse him. He's a little drunk.

 DG1: Fuck yeah! I am drunk and yeah.

Me: (to DG1) Well, then I don't know if I can trust what you are saying.

DG1: Yeah you can. But you're not getting my name.

Me: (smiling) well, it sounds to me like you do not have the courage of your convictions. You want me to park there and you guarantee there won't be any trouble, but you just aren't willing to back that up, are ya?

BCG smiles at that comment. DG1 seems confused for a moment.

DG1: (making a whiny face) Just park there.

Me: I am not 100% confident in what you are saying. I don't want to get a ticket.

DG1: You're not gonna get a ticket. Jeeze.

Me: You just said you were drunk. Because of that, I have to take what you say with a grain of salt, don't I?

DG1: (looks down at the ground) Yeah, you do...I guess.

BCG: (smiling at my last comment) What time do you have to leave in the morning?

Me: Like 7 or 7:30 am. Are you guys gonna be here all night? Are any of you leaving tonight?

BCG: No, we are here for the night.

DG1: Fuck yeah we are! I am not giving you my name either! No way am I gonna be responsible for this.

Me: Well I suppose I could just leave my car where it is. I don't know who I am blocking in, but if no one needs to leave tonight....

BCG: Yea, I think you will be fine. No one's going anywhere tomorrow until 10 am.

DG1: Just park in that empty spot over there! (points to lot across the street again)

BCG: Yeah, you should be fine. Sorry about this.

Me: It's okay, as long as I am not gonna have someone banging on my door in the middle of the night asking me to move my car.

BCG: No, that's not going to happen.

Me: (turning to leave) Okay, then. Thanks.You guys have a good night.

BCG: You too.

I go back to my apartment. I type this post. I go to bed.  I better not hear a knock on my door tonight.

Update #1 : I was so nervous about where I parked that I had trouble getting to sleep. It is 7 am now, I am getting ready for work, and no one knocked on my door in the night. 

Update #2: Went out to the car to drive to work this morning. 2 of the 3 cars that I had boxed in were gone. So much for the statement by BCG that no one was leaving that early. But the better question is just how did they get their cars out? By helicopter? The only way I can think is that they backed up to my car just enough to drive through the bush, avoiding the big tree, and then make a sharp sharp U turn around the tree to drive through the neighbor's yard and over the curb onto the street. I checked my car out to make sure no one had hit it. It was fine. As I was getting into my car, the weary young man from upstairs who had pointed me in the right direction of the party people was out rearranging his and his wife's cars so that one of them could leave. He looked at me and shook his head slowly from side to side. Then the other neighbor, Norma, came out in her bathrobe to move her truck. She was also parked like me, perpendicular to the parking spaces and blocking people in. "No place to park last night but here!" she said.

Reading is FUNdamental - UPDATE

I just finished the book I was reading, A Game of Thrones. I described this book in an earlier post titled Reading is FUNdamental. I wanted to update and clarify a few things that I said about the book in that post.
First of all, I am not amending the ick factor of the 13 year old's marriage. That stands as is. As for the reviews that mentioned graphic descriptions of sexual assault, I can say that toward the end of the book, during a post-battle scene, it is mentioned that some of the men are raping some women. It is not described in detail. A character coming upon this scene makes some important decisions and actions in response to the rapes that are important for the plot, and the scene helps define the character of the people involved. I can see why it is included.

Although the reasons I give for not letting children or young teenagers read the book are legitimate concerns, I don't want to highlight only the sex parts or sexual violence parts. Those scenes are rare and brief. (In previewing the second book, it seems the descriptions of consensual sex will get more graphic though.) What I completely forgot to mention were the scenes of graphic violence and fighting. The book is not all blood and guts, but the author does not hold back much when describing violence. At the end of the book there are bloody battles described. All throughout the book, people are losing arms, entrails, and heads. It's not overdone. Still I would caution against having younger folks read the books.

Finally, let me say that I thoroughly enjoyed the first book One of my favorite characters died. One character survived against odds. One fights to stay true to his vow. One has become even crueler than I thought possible. One is lost and seeking home. One has made the most unusual transformation And there are many more! I can't wait to see what happens next. I am eager to get started on the second book. My friend is looking to see if he has it to loan. If not, then I will be downloading it onto the Kindle.