Subject: menu planning
------------------------
From: and
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 2:59 PM
To: Liz , ET#1
I've just about got it--
appetizer: chex mix
main entree: 7 layer dip
dessert: snicker salad*
*I know it's a salad, but put it at the dessert end of the buffet and no one will know the difference
----------
From: Elizabeth Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 3:03 PM
To: and
Cc: ET#1
It goes on the salad table, Andrea. If you are going to do it. Do it right.
----------
From: and
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 3:04 PM
To: Elizabeth
Cc: ET#1
Okay, then we need a dessert. Can only think...chocolate sheet cake.
----------
From: Elizabeth
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 3:05 PM
To: and
Cc: ET#1
That sounds about right. Or rice krispie treats. That would make
cereal bookends.
----------
From: ET#1
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 3:14 PM
To: Elizabeth
Cc: and
what is ambrosia then? dessert or salad?
----------
From: and
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 4:39 PM
To: ET#1
Cc: Elizabeth
Oh that is salad. Marshmallows, right? Salad.
----------
From: Elizabeth
Date: Thu, Jan 27, 2011 at 4:41 PM
To: and
Cc: ET#1
fruit salad to be precise.
If you are confused, which is understandable, just think about where
it is on the buffet table in relation to the ham and biscuits. Close
to the bisscuits = salad. On the other side of the ham from the
biscuits = dessert.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Apologies
Here's a list of apologies I'd like Mrs. Thomas to solicit on my behalf:
Downstairs neighbors, for finishing my laundry detergent.
Massachusetts liquor stores, for being closed on Sundays while I was in college.
Muggers, for causing me distress, but mostly for taking my vintage going-out purse.
The Cats, but especially Soul, for destroying the couch AND for eating through the straps on my best camisoles.
Anthropologie, for taking so much of my money for cute, but not well made, dresses and shirts.
Middle school.
Genetics, for giving me short legs and wide hips.
WA state DMV, for making me spend part of my 23rd birthday in their waiting room.
Ex-boyfriends, for me and my friends (regardless if they did apologize, we never tire of hearing it).
Downstairs neighbors, for finishing my laundry detergent.
Massachusetts liquor stores, for being closed on Sundays while I was in college.
Muggers, for causing me distress, but mostly for taking my vintage going-out purse.
The Cats, but especially Soul, for destroying the couch AND for eating through the straps on my best camisoles.
Anthropologie, for taking so much of my money for cute, but not well made, dresses and shirts.
Middle school.
Genetics, for giving me short legs and wide hips.
WA state DMV, for making me spend part of my 23rd birthday in their waiting room.
Ex-boyfriends, for me and my friends (regardless if they did apologize, we never tire of hearing it).
Wednesday, September 01, 2010
Car Trip
"Mommie tricked me. We have to DRIVE 12 hours to Yellowstone from Seattle."
My sister has an aversion to long car trips ever since our epic 12+ hour trips from Kansas to Colorado or New Mexico growing up. But growing up in the midwest, to get anywhere fun you had to drive at least 12 hours and a lot of those hours would be spent cruising through western Kansas where there would be endless horizon and fields of wheat. I loved seeing the rain in the distance, and at night leaning my head on the window to look at the stars. We'd keep our eyes peeled for the first mesa, which would signal we were at least getting close to the mountains. But that hardly occupies hours of cramped car ride. To entertain ourselves, we would pack our travel bags which included cray pas and paper, Barbies and our Jem doll, little forest creatures branded as Mapletown, books, tapes and our red tape recorders and headsets. I would listen to The Cars Greatest Hits and the We Are The World soundtrack over and over. We played Art Rummy, with my mom playing her hand from the driver's seat and Liz passing her cards to the front with her toes. We'd pack our little Datsun hatchback full of luggage and snacks and we all brought our pillows.
My mom liked to drive with minimal stops, but we'd occasionally stop by the side of the road for a picnic of Cokes, Vienna Sausages, saltines, olives and cheese. To keep our appetite at bay while driving, we had beef jerky (I haven't had a Vienna sausage OR beef jerky in years...and don't intend to) and would get Dairy Queen Blizzards. Our vacations were often taken on my birthday so I'd get to pick where to stop for dinner (Long John Silver's was a good choice!). If we were in Buena Vista, CO for either mine or my sister's birthday, my mom would decorate the cabin with streamers and get a cake from the local bakery.
I don't remember a lot of fighting in the car but I'm sure it must have happened. I know Liz and I would take turns riding in the front seat but on at least one occasion our cousins complained to my uncle about "Liz pinching in the back seat". She remembers this differently. If our dog Char came with us, we liked to have her situated between us, but Char would prefer to have her head in one of our laps. Whoever got her tail obviously got the "bad end" so we would each campaign to get her head (with her animated eyes and soft ears).
I had to miss the family vacation this year, but reminisced with my mom and Liz about our old car trips. Maybe because I wasn't there to pester her or maybe because we have more patience as adults but Liz said, "Somehow driving to OKC from Wichita was longer than driving from Seattle to Yellowstone." I wish I had gone.
NPR ran a story about car games pre-dvd player, which prompted these memories. The story is great, but the comments are priceless!
My sister has an aversion to long car trips ever since our epic 12+ hour trips from Kansas to Colorado or New Mexico growing up. But growing up in the midwest, to get anywhere fun you had to drive at least 12 hours and a lot of those hours would be spent cruising through western Kansas where there would be endless horizon and fields of wheat. I loved seeing the rain in the distance, and at night leaning my head on the window to look at the stars. We'd keep our eyes peeled for the first mesa, which would signal we were at least getting close to the mountains. But that hardly occupies hours of cramped car ride. To entertain ourselves, we would pack our travel bags which included cray pas and paper, Barbies and our Jem doll, little forest creatures branded as Mapletown, books, tapes and our red tape recorders and headsets. I would listen to The Cars Greatest Hits and the We Are The World soundtrack over and over. We played Art Rummy, with my mom playing her hand from the driver's seat and Liz passing her cards to the front with her toes. We'd pack our little Datsun hatchback full of luggage and snacks and we all brought our pillows.
My mom liked to drive with minimal stops, but we'd occasionally stop by the side of the road for a picnic of Cokes, Vienna Sausages, saltines, olives and cheese. To keep our appetite at bay while driving, we had beef jerky (I haven't had a Vienna sausage OR beef jerky in years...and don't intend to) and would get Dairy Queen Blizzards. Our vacations were often taken on my birthday so I'd get to pick where to stop for dinner (Long John Silver's was a good choice!). If we were in Buena Vista, CO for either mine or my sister's birthday, my mom would decorate the cabin with streamers and get a cake from the local bakery.
I don't remember a lot of fighting in the car but I'm sure it must have happened. I know Liz and I would take turns riding in the front seat but on at least one occasion our cousins complained to my uncle about "Liz pinching in the back seat". She remembers this differently. If our dog Char came with us, we liked to have her situated between us, but Char would prefer to have her head in one of our laps. Whoever got her tail obviously got the "bad end" so we would each campaign to get her head (with her animated eyes and soft ears).
I had to miss the family vacation this year, but reminisced with my mom and Liz about our old car trips. Maybe because I wasn't there to pester her or maybe because we have more patience as adults but Liz said, "Somehow driving to OKC from Wichita was longer than driving from Seattle to Yellowstone." I wish I had gone.
NPR ran a story about car games pre-dvd player, which prompted these memories. The story is great, but the comments are priceless!
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The True Story of Steven Slater and Naomi Campbell: A Play in Four Acts
The two hottest stories of the week, reimagined by Andrea as one Superstory.
Act I: The Airplane
Passengers are settling into their seats on an airplane. It's Jetblue, so there's no business class. On the overhead, flight attendant Steven Slater begins making announcements, reminding folks to share the overhead bins and place smaller items under the seats by their feet. Amid the usual chatter a shrill voice overtakes the cabin. Mr. Slater walks back to where a tall Naomi Campbell is removing items from the overhead even as passengers are putting them in. She's becoming more and more agitated, wanting an entire bin for her handbag, claiming that the other passengers' bags are "dirty". Mr. Slater tries to diffuse the situation, asking Ms. Campbell to allow others to place their bags first and hers can nestle in the front, for her to easily access. She refuses and when Mr. Slater suggests she place it on the floor, she screams, "are you crazy?!" and attacks him on the head with her cell phone. Mr. Slater leans in and demands an apology. Ms. Campbell says something unintelligible.* Mr. Slater storms to the front of the plane, tells the passengers to f off and deploys the emergency slide. He grabs a Heineken prior to his egress.
Act II: UN Tribunal
Rewind to one week prior. Ms. Campbell, carrying the same handbag she will have on the plane from Pittsburgh to JFK, is hounded by paparazzi. She's just testafied at a UN tribunal indictment of Charles Taylor. Off to the side, a ruddy complexioned, blue eyed, manly man (who doesn't look gay. AT ALL) catches her eye. She momentarily pauses and nearly trips (but Ms. Campbell, in 25 years on the runway, has never tripped). She catches her breath and their gazes lock.
Act III: The Dinner Party
Thirteen years prior to the flight, a dinner party in South Africa. Ms. Campbell has been a flirty face with Charles Taylor all night, while her frizzy haired and glasses wearing assistant (not to be mistaken for Mia Farrow) sulks in the background. Ms. Campbell retires around 2 am and a half hour later there is a knock at her door. Two men in suits present her with a handbag. Inside is a pouch with some small stones. "Magic beans?" wonders Ms. Campbell. She falls into a deep sleep, dreaming of a man, her soulmate, whom she has never met. She dreams they meet in Indianapolis. She awakes and looks again in the pouch and mumbles, "just some dirty stones."
Act IV: Denouement
Four hours post flight/dramatic exit, an undisclosed tropical location. "It's been so long...I thought we'd never be united!" cries Ms. Campbell. "Well, I worked for Jetblue, not United." explained Mr. Slater, and takes a gulp of Heineken.
Same time, but back at JFK, at the Chile's bar. Ms. Farrow is seen with a handbag at her feet, a margarita in her left hand and a small pouch in her right. She smiles and says to no one in particular, "another charitable act completed."
*"Mon amour! I've been waiting half my life for you. Come away with me...love me."
Act I: The Airplane
Passengers are settling into their seats on an airplane. It's Jetblue, so there's no business class. On the overhead, flight attendant Steven Slater begins making announcements, reminding folks to share the overhead bins and place smaller items under the seats by their feet. Amid the usual chatter a shrill voice overtakes the cabin. Mr. Slater walks back to where a tall Naomi Campbell is removing items from the overhead even as passengers are putting them in. She's becoming more and more agitated, wanting an entire bin for her handbag, claiming that the other passengers' bags are "dirty". Mr. Slater tries to diffuse the situation, asking Ms. Campbell to allow others to place their bags first and hers can nestle in the front, for her to easily access. She refuses and when Mr. Slater suggests she place it on the floor, she screams, "are you crazy?!" and attacks him on the head with her cell phone. Mr. Slater leans in and demands an apology. Ms. Campbell says something unintelligible.* Mr. Slater storms to the front of the plane, tells the passengers to f off and deploys the emergency slide. He grabs a Heineken prior to his egress.
Act II: UN Tribunal
Rewind to one week prior. Ms. Campbell, carrying the same handbag she will have on the plane from Pittsburgh to JFK, is hounded by paparazzi. She's just testafied at a UN tribunal indictment of Charles Taylor. Off to the side, a ruddy complexioned, blue eyed, manly man (who doesn't look gay. AT ALL) catches her eye. She momentarily pauses and nearly trips (but Ms. Campbell, in 25 years on the runway, has never tripped). She catches her breath and their gazes lock.
Act III: The Dinner Party
Thirteen years prior to the flight, a dinner party in South Africa. Ms. Campbell has been a flirty face with Charles Taylor all night, while her frizzy haired and glasses wearing assistant (not to be mistaken for Mia Farrow) sulks in the background. Ms. Campbell retires around 2 am and a half hour later there is a knock at her door. Two men in suits present her with a handbag. Inside is a pouch with some small stones. "Magic beans?" wonders Ms. Campbell. She falls into a deep sleep, dreaming of a man, her soulmate, whom she has never met. She dreams they meet in Indianapolis. She awakes and looks again in the pouch and mumbles, "just some dirty stones."
Act IV: Denouement
Four hours post flight/dramatic exit, an undisclosed tropical location. "It's been so long...I thought we'd never be united!" cries Ms. Campbell. "Well, I worked for Jetblue, not United." explained Mr. Slater, and takes a gulp of Heineken.
Same time, but back at JFK, at the Chile's bar. Ms. Farrow is seen with a handbag at her feet, a margarita in her left hand and a small pouch in her right. She smiles and says to no one in particular, "another charitable act completed."
*"Mon amour! I've been waiting half my life for you. Come away with me...love me."
Friday, July 23, 2010
JELLYFISH ATTACK!
This is the first in a series in which the editors at Zandrea take a deeper look into the pressing stories of today. In the case of the attacking jellyfish, we look at the backgrounds of the first responders and the jellyfish.
On Wednesday, July 21st, unsuspecting beach-goers in Rye, NH felt the stinging wrath of the undead. Unlike, mammalian zombies who savagely tear into the flesh and organs of their prey, the medusozoa zombie prefer to let its detached, undead tentacles enact a unique brand of horror. In a cruel, yet humorous twist, zombie jellyfish specifically target children.
The article below, based on eyewitness accounts, depicts the scene:
RYE, N.H. — The culprit* sat in an open trash bag baking in the hot sun, raked to shore by a pitchfork-wielding lifeguard** who paddled out on a surfboard.
*Wednesday was not a great day for me. At some point during the previous evening I died. Not wanting to cause any trouble for anyone, I willed my still living tentacles to swim towards the shore so that my carcass could be discovered and properly disposed of before my decay became an eyesore. Let me tell you, I can’t win for losing. Just as I approached the beach, some jack-off teenager comes at me with a pitchfork and guts me like a mackerel. And now I’m the “culprit:” the villain of the piece!
Staring down in wonder — and disgust — at the huge jellyfish carcass at Wallis Sands State Park, Simon Mayer of Rye asked, “Is that the monster?”
It was to some, and it was doing plenty of posthumous damage. About 150 people were stung Wednesday by what officials said was a lion’s mane jellyfish weighing nearly 40 pounds, which turned the tranquil beach into a frenzied sea of screaming children and aching adults with red, sore feet and legs.
It was not the blob of dead jellyfish, but rather pieces of its stinging tentacles that stung the waders, scientists said. Jellyfish can still emit toxins when dead or broken apart, said Renee Zobel, a marine biologist with the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department.
“The cell type will keep on firing in the tentacles,” which also remain alive when separated from the animal, Ms. Zobel explained.
Alycia Bennett of Hampstead, N.H., who was stung while wading with her 10-year-old daughter, Emma, said, “When we got to the bathhouse it was complete chaos, mayhem.” It took a while for the severity of the sting to set in, she said.
“By the time you got up to the bathhouse it burned,” she added. “There were a lot of little kids, and understandably they were hysterical. It was so bizarre. So much for a peaceful day at the beach.”
Officials said there were no serious injuries, though five children from a camp were taken to the hospital as a precaution with skin irritations but later released.
“There were five ambulances and a hook and ladder here,” said the park manager, Ken Loughlin. “Seeing a hook and ladder was almost comical.” Lifeguards were sent to a nearby grocery store to buy vinegar and baking soda for emergency medical technicians, who set up a triage area.
Mr. Loughlin and others at the beach said it took a while for everyone to realize what was happening, because jellyfish stings are so rare at the beach.
“You couldn’t see it in the water coming at you,” said Kim Raiti of Atkinson, N.H. “You couldn’t see anything you would know to avoid.” Two of her four children were stung.
“Everyone was getting stung at the same time,” she added. “Kids were crying. It was like a scene from a movie***.”
***My name's Leonard Brubacher and as a starving Hollywood screenwriter, I can't tell you how excited I am to be vacationing at my childhood home. Being in the right place at the right time...you just can't ask for something better than this. It's going to be bigger than JAWS. Because it's going to be 3D. I think I can get some New England starpower on-board...maybe some Matt Damon, some John Malkovich. I envision a blockbuster Summer 2013.
New Hampshire Fish and Game officials said lion’s mane jellyfish, which are common to the Gulf of Maine, rarely show up on beaches as far south as New Hampshire. Tides often detach tentacles from jellyfish that are washing toward shore, scientists said, but raking the jellyfish “probably broke it up into quite a large number of individual tentacles, still healthy, because these things don’t disintegrate,” said Larry Harris, a professor of zoology at the University of New Hampshire. The tentacles are like “loose spaghetti” floating around, he said.
“When you’re talking about thousands of tentacles and little kids splashing about, it’s a recipe for chaos,” Professor Harris said.
The beach reopened Thursday, and swimmers were back in the water. The tide washed all the tentacles out to sea, leaving only the carcass, which was guarded by a young beach employee who said he was not authorized to give his name****.
“I’m going to have to start charging you guys,” he said to the curious crowd gathered around the Dumpster, snapping photos.
****Okay, so I can’t give my name because of an incident with a small amount of pot I got caught with by my supervisor last month. He promised to keep me on as long as I kept clean. But between you and me, if I could start charging people to take pictures of this fish, I’d be all set for the rest of the summer, if you know what I mean.
Lynn Nicholson, of Methuen, Mass., wanted to name the jellyfish Wally. “Wally from Wallis Sands,” she said. Ms. Nicholson told Mr. Loughlin that she should put the jellyfish under glass and preserve it as a tourist attraction.
“No one wants to come see a pile of puke,” Mr. Loughlin said.
“Yes they do*****,” the young employee shot back.
Andrew Keh contributed reporting from New York.
*****The editors agree. We ALL want to see a pile of puke!
On Wednesday, July 21st, unsuspecting beach-goers in Rye, NH felt the stinging wrath of the undead. Unlike, mammalian zombies who savagely tear into the flesh and organs of their prey, the medusozoa zombie prefer to let its detached, undead tentacles enact a unique brand of horror. In a cruel, yet humorous twist, zombie jellyfish specifically target children.
The article below, based on eyewitness accounts, depicts the scene:
RYE, N.H. — The culprit* sat in an open trash bag baking in the hot sun, raked to shore by a pitchfork-wielding lifeguard** who paddled out on a surfboard.
*Wednesday was not a great day for me. At some point during the previous evening I died. Not wanting to cause any trouble for anyone, I willed my still living tentacles to swim towards the shore so that my carcass could be discovered and properly disposed of before my decay became an eyesore. Let me tell you, I can’t win for losing. Just as I approached the beach, some jack-off teenager comes at me with a pitchfork and guts me like a mackerel. And now I’m the “culprit:” the villain of the piece!
**This is my first summer as a lifeguard. I trained all spring and was so pumped to make it. We were told there might be an occasional shark sighting, but were never told what to do about jellyfish. We didn’t train with pitchforks at all!
A crowd gathered around the trash bag that now contains the dead jellyfish that washed into Wallis Sands State Park stinging nearly 150 swimmers in Rye, New Hampshire on Thursday.Staring down in wonder — and disgust — at the huge jellyfish carcass at Wallis Sands State Park, Simon Mayer of Rye asked, “Is that the monster?”
It was to some, and it was doing plenty of posthumous damage. About 150 people were stung Wednesday by what officials said was a lion’s mane jellyfish weighing nearly 40 pounds, which turned the tranquil beach into a frenzied sea of screaming children and aching adults with red, sore feet and legs.
It was not the blob of dead jellyfish, but rather pieces of its stinging tentacles that stung the waders, scientists said. Jellyfish can still emit toxins when dead or broken apart, said Renee Zobel, a marine biologist with the New Hampshire Fish and Game Department.
“The cell type will keep on firing in the tentacles,” which also remain alive when separated from the animal, Ms. Zobel explained.
Alycia Bennett of Hampstead, N.H., who was stung while wading with her 10-year-old daughter, Emma, said, “When we got to the bathhouse it was complete chaos, mayhem.” It took a while for the severity of the sting to set in, she said.
“By the time you got up to the bathhouse it burned,” she added. “There were a lot of little kids, and understandably they were hysterical. It was so bizarre. So much for a peaceful day at the beach.”
Officials said there were no serious injuries, though five children from a camp were taken to the hospital as a precaution with skin irritations but later released.
“There were five ambulances and a hook and ladder here,” said the park manager, Ken Loughlin. “Seeing a hook and ladder was almost comical.” Lifeguards were sent to a nearby grocery store to buy vinegar and baking soda for emergency medical technicians, who set up a triage area.
Mr. Loughlin and others at the beach said it took a while for everyone to realize what was happening, because jellyfish stings are so rare at the beach.
“You couldn’t see it in the water coming at you,” said Kim Raiti of Atkinson, N.H. “You couldn’t see anything you would know to avoid.” Two of her four children were stung.
“Everyone was getting stung at the same time,” she added. “Kids were crying. It was like a scene from a movie***.”
***My name's Leonard Brubacher and as a starving Hollywood screenwriter, I can't tell you how excited I am to be vacationing at my childhood home. Being in the right place at the right time...you just can't ask for something better than this. It's going to be bigger than JAWS. Because it's going to be 3D. I think I can get some New England starpower on-board...maybe some Matt Damon, some John Malkovich. I envision a blockbuster Summer 2013.
New Hampshire Fish and Game officials said lion’s mane jellyfish, which are common to the Gulf of Maine, rarely show up on beaches as far south as New Hampshire. Tides often detach tentacles from jellyfish that are washing toward shore, scientists said, but raking the jellyfish “probably broke it up into quite a large number of individual tentacles, still healthy, because these things don’t disintegrate,” said Larry Harris, a professor of zoology at the University of New Hampshire. The tentacles are like “loose spaghetti” floating around, he said.
“When you’re talking about thousands of tentacles and little kids splashing about, it’s a recipe for chaos,” Professor Harris said.
The beach reopened Thursday, and swimmers were back in the water. The tide washed all the tentacles out to sea, leaving only the carcass, which was guarded by a young beach employee who said he was not authorized to give his name****.
“I’m going to have to start charging you guys,” he said to the curious crowd gathered around the Dumpster, snapping photos.
****Okay, so I can’t give my name because of an incident with a small amount of pot I got caught with by my supervisor last month. He promised to keep me on as long as I kept clean. But between you and me, if I could start charging people to take pictures of this fish, I’d be all set for the rest of the summer, if you know what I mean.
Lynn Nicholson, of Methuen, Mass., wanted to name the jellyfish Wally. “Wally from Wallis Sands,” she said. Ms. Nicholson told Mr. Loughlin that she should put the jellyfish under glass and preserve it as a tourist attraction.
“No one wants to come see a pile of puke,” Mr. Loughlin said.
“Yes they do*****,” the young employee shot back.
Andrew Keh contributed reporting from New York.
*****The editors agree. We ALL want to see a pile of puke!
Monday, July 19, 2010
Oui, Oui Mon Ami!
Andrea: So we saw Breathless last week at the Coolidge Corner Theater. How excited were you to see it? Do you think you were more excited than me?
Zara: I was marginally excited. You and my husband are the French New Wave fans. I think you were more excited about seeing it on the big screen. HOWEVER, when the film began and I realized that the only other time I had seen “Breathless” was sans subtitles so I was VERY excited to understand the dialogue. It was funny that French people were saying the French equivalent of “puke.”
Andrea: I bought us tickets a week in advance because I imagined the tickets (for a Thursday night) would sell out. I was surprised they didn't sell out but can only imagine it's because every other Bostonian saw the film over the course of the previous week. I was surprised we had our choice of all the best seats in the house. In high school my friend Caron and I got up early to buy tickets to see the Black Crowes right when they went on sale. We imagined there would be a line out the grocery store (you bought your concert tickets at Dillon's in Wichita). Needless to say, we were roaming the frozen food aisles by ourselves until the tickets actually went on sale and we were there to purchase them first.
Zara: I was surprised as well. Not as surprised as I am to read about you seeing the Black Crowes? And you make fun of me for liking Steely Dan??? Hey, did you know that Eddie Money gave a free concert at the Hatch Shell on Saturday? Nobody would go with me.
Andrea: Hey! I grew up in Wichita. I'm a country mouse. Also it was 1995. Also we never ended up seeing them because there was the Oklahoma City bombing and they canceled our show in favor of a benefit.
Andrea: What do you think the chances are of you getting a pixie cut like Jean Seberg?
Zara: Let me tell you something. I have been telling myself for years that if lost 20 pounds I would cut my hair short and get my belly button pierced. How many years? Well, I don’t think belly button piercing is still considered sexy and the short haircut I wanted was based on a style that I saw an actress wear on the TV show, “Chicago Hope.” “Chicago Hope???” It was a medical drama that came on the air the same year as ER and lost out to the Clooney juggernaut. That is how many years! To answer your question, not likely…..
Andrea: We had dinner at Bottega Fiorentina ahead of the movie, as we usually do. I'll let you explain what happened with the parmesan cheese.
Zara: I have many enemies. The largest enemy I have is the teenage population. When I was a child they would tease me. For example: I would try to play with the older kids on the block and once I fell on the ground and a female teenager said “Swift move measles face!” (I had a chronic staph infection on my face from 4-10 years old.) When I was a teenager they were mean to me. For example: “You walk funny!” and “Hey you, pimple face, you must be a virgin!” (I had severe acne from 12-22 years old.) And now, as an adult, teenagers give me scary looks and make no room for me on sidewalks so that I am forced to walk in traffic if I want to get anywhere. Last Thursday, some crafty and surly teenagers played a joke on me when I was trying to enjoy dinner. Knowing that I like to sit at the window seat they snuck into the restaurant earlier in the day and loosened the lid on the parmesan shaker so that when I used it at dinner all of the grated parmesan and the lid fell atop my dinner. Brats!
Andrea [choking on a handful of crab chips]: Do you think we should break into Brookline High and shove some kids into lockers?
Andrea: Because I am have a taste for the rich life, I rented a car and drove to Brookline to meet you. I also bought us souvenirs. Have you worn your t shirt yet?
Zara: Thank you for the t-shirt; I love it!!! No, I have not worn it yet as I need to wash it before wearing. You might remember that during our evening out I mentioned that I broke my rule about always washing clothes before wearing them with the jeans I wore out that night. You also might remember if you have not repressed the memory, my describing to you in great detail how the combination of my sweat and the blue dye from jeans resulted in me leaving a wet, blue stain on the toilet seat at work.
Andrea: I know a certain Evil Twin who found pieces of crab shell in her underwear after a feeding frenzy in Annapolis. Nothing fazes me.
Andrea: If you could see any movie on the big screen, what would it be? I think I would like to see The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Catherine Deneuve is so foxy.
Zara: I would like to see the video we made of our re-enactment of Grey Gardens. You were an exquisite Little Edie!
Andrea: OMG! You are right-- that would be the best movie to see on the big screen.
Zara: I was marginally excited. You and my husband are the French New Wave fans. I think you were more excited about seeing it on the big screen. HOWEVER, when the film began and I realized that the only other time I had seen “Breathless” was sans subtitles so I was VERY excited to understand the dialogue. It was funny that French people were saying the French equivalent of “puke.”
Andrea: I bought us tickets a week in advance because I imagined the tickets (for a Thursday night) would sell out. I was surprised they didn't sell out but can only imagine it's because every other Bostonian saw the film over the course of the previous week. I was surprised we had our choice of all the best seats in the house. In high school my friend Caron and I got up early to buy tickets to see the Black Crowes right when they went on sale. We imagined there would be a line out the grocery store (you bought your concert tickets at Dillon's in Wichita). Needless to say, we were roaming the frozen food aisles by ourselves until the tickets actually went on sale and we were there to purchase them first.
Zara: I was surprised as well. Not as surprised as I am to read about you seeing the Black Crowes? And you make fun of me for liking Steely Dan??? Hey, did you know that Eddie Money gave a free concert at the Hatch Shell on Saturday? Nobody would go with me.
Andrea: Hey! I grew up in Wichita. I'm a country mouse. Also it was 1995. Also we never ended up seeing them because there was the Oklahoma City bombing and they canceled our show in favor of a benefit.
Andrea: What do you think the chances are of you getting a pixie cut like Jean Seberg?
Zara: Let me tell you something. I have been telling myself for years that if lost 20 pounds I would cut my hair short and get my belly button pierced. How many years? Well, I don’t think belly button piercing is still considered sexy and the short haircut I wanted was based on a style that I saw an actress wear on the TV show, “Chicago Hope.” “Chicago Hope???” It was a medical drama that came on the air the same year as ER and lost out to the Clooney juggernaut. That is how many years! To answer your question, not likely…..
Andrea: We had dinner at Bottega Fiorentina ahead of the movie, as we usually do. I'll let you explain what happened with the parmesan cheese.
Zara: I have many enemies. The largest enemy I have is the teenage population. When I was a child they would tease me. For example: I would try to play with the older kids on the block and once I fell on the ground and a female teenager said “Swift move measles face!” (I had a chronic staph infection on my face from 4-10 years old.) When I was a teenager they were mean to me. For example: “You walk funny!” and “Hey you, pimple face, you must be a virgin!” (I had severe acne from 12-22 years old.) And now, as an adult, teenagers give me scary looks and make no room for me on sidewalks so that I am forced to walk in traffic if I want to get anywhere. Last Thursday, some crafty and surly teenagers played a joke on me when I was trying to enjoy dinner. Knowing that I like to sit at the window seat they snuck into the restaurant earlier in the day and loosened the lid on the parmesan shaker so that when I used it at dinner all of the grated parmesan and the lid fell atop my dinner. Brats!
Andrea [choking on a handful of crab chips]: Do you think we should break into Brookline High and shove some kids into lockers?
Andrea: Because I am have a taste for the rich life, I rented a car and drove to Brookline to meet you. I also bought us souvenirs. Have you worn your t shirt yet?
Zara: Thank you for the t-shirt; I love it!!! No, I have not worn it yet as I need to wash it before wearing. You might remember that during our evening out I mentioned that I broke my rule about always washing clothes before wearing them with the jeans I wore out that night. You also might remember if you have not repressed the memory, my describing to you in great detail how the combination of my sweat and the blue dye from jeans resulted in me leaving a wet, blue stain on the toilet seat at work.
Andrea: I know a certain Evil Twin who found pieces of crab shell in her underwear after a feeding frenzy in Annapolis. Nothing fazes me.
Andrea: If you could see any movie on the big screen, what would it be? I think I would like to see The Umbrellas of Cherbourg. Catherine Deneuve is so foxy.
Zara: I would like to see the video we made of our re-enactment of Grey Gardens. You were an exquisite Little Edie!
Andrea: OMG! You are right-- that would be the best movie to see on the big screen.
Wednesday, July 07, 2010
Dial 911 for Emergencies
The one in which Z interviews A about calling 911
Zara: Recently, I encouraged you to call 911 to report suspicious activity related to a bag of trash that was dropped off near your apartment by some maniac who drove off after the dump. Can you please expand on the details of the incident, your investigation, the phone call, and the aftermath?
Andrea: A couple weeks ago I watched from my bedroom window as a man drove around the corner with a black trash bag on the hood of his car. He stopped the car, got out and deposited the trash bag on the corner. I didn't think much about it until a few days later when a whole troop of Russian spies were identified and arrested. It became immediately clear to me that whatever was in that bag was probably suspect evidence. I made my friend Morgan rip open the bag and peer in while I watched from several feet away. She first said it was a carpet, then changed her mind and said linoleum. She couldn't see it, but I'm sure the linoleum was covered in blood. The next day I called 911 to report it. As far as I know the bag is still there.
Zara: Have you ever called 911 before? I have called many times to report crimes and personal annoyances such as: loud parties, finding a dead body, and most recently when I witnessed two cases of suspected rabid animal activity. Sometimes, I feel like Angela Lansbury’s iconic character, Jessica Fletcher. Do you think that I am actually surrounded by crime or are you of the school of thought that I am paranoid and apt to make mountains out of molehills?
Andrea: Mostly I call 911 to report on men who drop trou and show their penises. No one likes to see that. The most recent time was on the T and I said, "nuh uh. Pull your pants up!" And I alerted the nearest authority. Another time was on Nahant beach and another time was at the airport and another time was on Comm. Ave.
You are beautiful, smart and blonde-- an attractant to all manner of crime. How was it that there were so many murders in Cabot Cove? I think you need a cute bike with a basket to increase your territory. Tell more about the dead body!! I walk to work along the muddy river and pass by several homeless people daily. I dread the day I find one of the homeless people dead in that river.
Zara (follow-up): Yuck, somehow I never see that type of indecent exposure. Once I saw a pseudo-homeless man with his pants pulled down humping one of those green storage containers used to store salt at the Chestnut Hill T-stop, but I just kept moving.
In terms of the dead body, it was surreal. Many years ago, I woke up early one morning and had the bright idea of picking up my dry cleaning before going to work and as I walked down a Brighton side street something unusual entered my field of vision. First, I saw toes and feet and then legs lying on the ground, and my first thought was why would someone sunbathe near the sidewalk. Then, it registered, I was looking at a dead body. It was an elderly woman who had fallen from the balcony of her senior’s apartment complex. It was awful; she was in a nightgown and had fallen through trees. I ran to the dry cleaners, owned by Russians by the way, and called 911. Then I went back to wait near the body because I felt like I had to protect her until the cops showed up. It was sad.
Zara: I very much enjoy reporting crimes, naming names, and being a tattle-tale. I am known as the unofficial and self-proclaimed “neighborhood watchdog” in my apartment complex. Did the stigma associated with being a “snitch” influence your decision to make the call?
Andrea: It is well known that I am a law abiding citizen-- I have no traffic tickets, cross at cross walks and also am totally cavity free. Clearly reporting crimes is Important! If being a good citizen is being a snitch, then so be it!
Zara: Recently, I encouraged you to call 911 to report suspicious activity related to a bag of trash that was dropped off near your apartment by some maniac who drove off after the dump. Can you please expand on the details of the incident, your investigation, the phone call, and the aftermath?
Andrea: A couple weeks ago I watched from my bedroom window as a man drove around the corner with a black trash bag on the hood of his car. He stopped the car, got out and deposited the trash bag on the corner. I didn't think much about it until a few days later when a whole troop of Russian spies were identified and arrested. It became immediately clear to me that whatever was in that bag was probably suspect evidence. I made my friend Morgan rip open the bag and peer in while I watched from several feet away. She first said it was a carpet, then changed her mind and said linoleum. She couldn't see it, but I'm sure the linoleum was covered in blood. The next day I called 911 to report it. As far as I know the bag is still there.
Zara: Have you ever called 911 before? I have called many times to report crimes and personal annoyances such as: loud parties, finding a dead body, and most recently when I witnessed two cases of suspected rabid animal activity. Sometimes, I feel like Angela Lansbury’s iconic character, Jessica Fletcher. Do you think that I am actually surrounded by crime or are you of the school of thought that I am paranoid and apt to make mountains out of molehills?
Andrea: Mostly I call 911 to report on men who drop trou and show their penises. No one likes to see that. The most recent time was on the T and I said, "nuh uh. Pull your pants up!" And I alerted the nearest authority. Another time was on Nahant beach and another time was at the airport and another time was on Comm. Ave.
You are beautiful, smart and blonde-- an attractant to all manner of crime. How was it that there were so many murders in Cabot Cove? I think you need a cute bike with a basket to increase your territory. Tell more about the dead body!! I walk to work along the muddy river and pass by several homeless people daily. I dread the day I find one of the homeless people dead in that river.
Zara (follow-up): Yuck, somehow I never see that type of indecent exposure. Once I saw a pseudo-homeless man with his pants pulled down humping one of those green storage containers used to store salt at the Chestnut Hill T-stop, but I just kept moving.
In terms of the dead body, it was surreal. Many years ago, I woke up early one morning and had the bright idea of picking up my dry cleaning before going to work and as I walked down a Brighton side street something unusual entered my field of vision. First, I saw toes and feet and then legs lying on the ground, and my first thought was why would someone sunbathe near the sidewalk. Then, it registered, I was looking at a dead body. It was an elderly woman who had fallen from the balcony of her senior’s apartment complex. It was awful; she was in a nightgown and had fallen through trees. I ran to the dry cleaners, owned by Russians by the way, and called 911. Then I went back to wait near the body because I felt like I had to protect her until the cops showed up. It was sad.
Zara: I very much enjoy reporting crimes, naming names, and being a tattle-tale. I am known as the unofficial and self-proclaimed “neighborhood watchdog” in my apartment complex. Did the stigma associated with being a “snitch” influence your decision to make the call?
Andrea: It is well known that I am a law abiding citizen-- I have no traffic tickets, cross at cross walks and also am totally cavity free. Clearly reporting crimes is Important! If being a good citizen is being a snitch, then so be it!
Friday, July 02, 2010
Concert Review: She & Him
Andrea interviews Zara post late night concert.
So Zara, when you agreed to accompany me to see She & Him, did you know who they were? No, I did not. If your band is not playing on Magic 106.7 (Boston’s Continuous Soft Rock) then I do not know your band. Remind me again of your feelings for The Captain and Tennille....
I liked that you decided to reinstate the Fashion Showdown for this special occasion. What made you pick the dress you wore? Did you know Zooey was also going to wear a silver sparkle dress? Well, I am pretty sure you told me to wear the dress after our epic trip to the Natick Collection during which I searched high and low for just the right black cinch belt. After accusing you and the universe of conspiring to deny me the belt, you had no choice but to insist that I wear the damned belt with the silver dress. And yes, I did know what Zooey would be wearing. The demyelinating disease in my brain has created a wormhole that allows me to share fashion consciousness with celebrities.
We ate dinner at a new sushi restaurant before the show. Did you like what you ordered? I kind of felt like Derrick from P.F. Chang's would have made dinner a little more...awkward. What do you think? I did enjoy my dinner, but I wish I had ordered something other than my usual sushi standards. Basho intimidated me. I had never seen fois gras on a sushi menu. I did like that twice in one week we sat in large u-shaped booths and still managed to sit in awkward positions even though we had tables that would accommodate endless permutations of comfortable seating options. Derrick would have made dinner weird – his trademark “crouch” position is irritating.
I enjoyed hanging out at the West Elm and pretending it was our home. It reinforced my desire to have a maid. If you could buy one thing from the store, what would it be? I would buy one of those hairy pillows that reminded me of my sister's hair. Obviously, I would pick the faux bear skin rug that I wanted to use as prop for dirty photos. I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me pose for the camera?
Once we got into the show, it became immediately obvious we were surrounded by Russian Spies. I guess this isn't a question so much as a statement. But I think you have a special talent for identifying spies because whenever I interacted with one, you had an asthma attack. Indeed, it would appear that my sixteen year pack-a-day smoking habit has come back to bite me in the form of uncontrollable choking and wheezing in the presence of Eastern European espionage. Theory One: The Russians/Soviets only had access to cheap cigarettes for decades and they are jealous of my unlimited access to Camel Lights and have somehow poisoned me. Theory Two: The Russians are dusty. Unfortunately my wit was lost on the foreigners. I told the woman whose breasts were smooshed up against my back that if she got any closer I'd have to buy her a drink and she'd have to take me home. She didn't get it.
How many Anthropologie dresses were worn last night? Do you think it was more or less than the number of plaid shirts worn by men? Many, many Anthropologie dresses were worn. Far more than plaid shirts. I especially liked that we identified the dresses/skirts with such enthusiasm. Cat dress!!! OMG, she paid top dollar for that dress! I am waiting until it gets below $60 and then it's mine.
Do you think if we had waited around after the show we would have seen Zooey? And if so, do you think you could have convinced her to go home with you? Yes, and yes. Chicks dig me. Every since I got married, I have become remarkably in demand. Inevitably, people want what they can’t have. It’s human nature.
Thanks for coming with me to see She & Him last night! It was my pleasure! That is what identical cousins are for : )
So Zara, when you agreed to accompany me to see She & Him, did you know who they were? No, I did not. If your band is not playing on Magic 106.7 (Boston’s Continuous Soft Rock) then I do not know your band. Remind me again of your feelings for The Captain and Tennille....
I liked that you decided to reinstate the Fashion Showdown for this special occasion. What made you pick the dress you wore? Did you know Zooey was also going to wear a silver sparkle dress? Well, I am pretty sure you told me to wear the dress after our epic trip to the Natick Collection during which I searched high and low for just the right black cinch belt. After accusing you and the universe of conspiring to deny me the belt, you had no choice but to insist that I wear the damned belt with the silver dress. And yes, I did know what Zooey would be wearing. The demyelinating disease in my brain has created a wormhole that allows me to share fashion consciousness with celebrities.
We ate dinner at a new sushi restaurant before the show. Did you like what you ordered? I kind of felt like Derrick from P.F. Chang's would have made dinner a little more...awkward. What do you think? I did enjoy my dinner, but I wish I had ordered something other than my usual sushi standards. Basho intimidated me. I had never seen fois gras on a sushi menu. I did like that twice in one week we sat in large u-shaped booths and still managed to sit in awkward positions even though we had tables that would accommodate endless permutations of comfortable seating options. Derrick would have made dinner weird – his trademark “crouch” position is irritating.
I enjoyed hanging out at the West Elm and pretending it was our home. It reinforced my desire to have a maid. If you could buy one thing from the store, what would it be? I would buy one of those hairy pillows that reminded me of my sister's hair. Obviously, I would pick the faux bear skin rug that I wanted to use as prop for dirty photos. I don’t know why you wouldn’t let me pose for the camera?
Once we got into the show, it became immediately obvious we were surrounded by Russian Spies. I guess this isn't a question so much as a statement. But I think you have a special talent for identifying spies because whenever I interacted with one, you had an asthma attack. Indeed, it would appear that my sixteen year pack-a-day smoking habit has come back to bite me in the form of uncontrollable choking and wheezing in the presence of Eastern European espionage. Theory One: The Russians/Soviets only had access to cheap cigarettes for decades and they are jealous of my unlimited access to Camel Lights and have somehow poisoned me. Theory Two: The Russians are dusty. Unfortunately my wit was lost on the foreigners. I told the woman whose breasts were smooshed up against my back that if she got any closer I'd have to buy her a drink and she'd have to take me home. She didn't get it.
How many Anthropologie dresses were worn last night? Do you think it was more or less than the number of plaid shirts worn by men? Many, many Anthropologie dresses were worn. Far more than plaid shirts. I especially liked that we identified the dresses/skirts with such enthusiasm. Cat dress!!! OMG, she paid top dollar for that dress! I am waiting until it gets below $60 and then it's mine.
Do you think if we had waited around after the show we would have seen Zooey? And if so, do you think you could have convinced her to go home with you? Yes, and yes. Chicks dig me. Every since I got married, I have become remarkably in demand. Inevitably, people want what they can’t have. It’s human nature.
Thanks for coming with me to see She & Him last night! It was my pleasure! That is what identical cousins are for : )
Wednesday, June 09, 2010
The One Where I Take The Non-Violent Approach
texts from last night...on the bus
And: College kids are soooo loud!
Lynne: I hate young people these days
And: Me too. Let's be old and kick them off our lawn
Lynne: We would have to get a lawn...
And: I cannot read my New Yorker
Lynne: Roll it up and hit them with it
And: I moved seats
And: College kids are soooo loud!
Lynne: I hate young people these days
And: Me too. Let's be old and kick them off our lawn
Lynne: We would have to get a lawn...
And: I cannot read my New Yorker
Lynne: Roll it up and hit them with it
And: I moved seats
Sunday, June 06, 2010
The Hidden World of Girls
NPR is running a series called The Hidden World of Girls and when they put out a call for journal entries, I was thrilled. I've been keeping journals semi-regularly since 1993 and thought for sure they would be a trip to read through. I consulted my sister.
me: I want to get back into thoughtful writing
me: I want to get back into thoughtful writing
did you ever read my journal(s)?
Liz: how is your new journal
what?
me: or has matt read yours?
Liz: no
4:02 PM no
me: I didn't think so
I always just leave mine out
Liz: those are private!
me: but never thought that anyone read it
Liz: i do to
did someone?
daddy read mine once
me: really??
Liz: i busted him!
me: how do you know?
oh my
Liz: it was awkward
and shocking
and embarrasing
me: yikes
Liz: mostly shocking
4:03 PM are you worried someone will read yours./
me: oh no
I was actually going to photo some of the pages and post them on flickr
on that group I sent
the hidden life of girls
I like that girls everywhere and throughout time have written journals
Liz: i haven tlooked at it yet
4:04 PM me: and I don't mind contributing some of mine
from years ago
Liz: oh
hmm. I don't think i would share mine
I don't even re-read them!
I put my thoughts in there so I have a clear head.
4:05 PM me: me too
but I've been doing it so long
Liz: no need to clutter it back up by reerading
me: and always thought I'd give them to a daughter
Liz: oooh
me: since that might not happen, maybe I'll just share with the world
Liz: haha!
i love you!!!
me: I love you too!
I came home after work Friday and cracked a few old ones open. They weren't hilarious-- in fact, I lot of them were kind of sad. I spent a lot of time lamenting the death of my grandfather in 1994 and the more recent ones-- even from 2001-- just seem too recent to share. My voice changes too-- the older ones seem to be written for some audience, or like I didn't know exactly for whom I was writing (just me?). I like reading about my friends-- lots of friends I still have, like Caron, Lesley, Nora and Steph and of course my family. A dedicate pages and pages to how much my math and science classes suck. I picked a few of the less embarrassing entries to share and have them up on my flickr account now. Feel free to share your own tales of journaling!
I came home after work Friday and cracked a few old ones open. They weren't hilarious-- in fact, I lot of them were kind of sad. I spent a lot of time lamenting the death of my grandfather in 1994 and the more recent ones-- even from 2001-- just seem too recent to share. My voice changes too-- the older ones seem to be written for some audience, or like I didn't know exactly for whom I was writing (just me?). I like reading about my friends-- lots of friends I still have, like Caron, Lesley, Nora and Steph and of course my family. A dedicate pages and pages to how much my math and science classes suck. I picked a few of the less embarrassing entries to share and have them up on my flickr account now. Feel free to share your own tales of journaling!
Friday, May 21, 2010
Advice
In this brief time sandwiched between Mother's Day and Father's Day, and with graduates tossing their caps, it's a good time to think about advice and the maxims our parents shared with us. As adults, we are now charged less with the asking of advice and more with the dispensing of it.
I couldn't immediately remember specifics from my mom or dad, so asked my sister. She remembered our dad telling her not to worry about things she couldn't control. "He told me this the night before my first day as a crossing guard. I was so worried about how I would get to school on time, how to hold the sign since I was too short to reach the top like the other crossing guards, etc. that I couldn't sleep and was crying."
Nora's dad used to tell her when she was worried about a test or something, "I'll blow up the building", which broke the ice and made her laugh. And I guess it's a way of re-evaluating the situation-- is it really so important to worry about? When I would worry about my grades in college, Nora didn't tell me she would blow up a building, but she did tell me to go to office hours and would remind me, "don't worry, the professors have seen worse than you."
Sometimes our parents' advice is contradictory. ET#1's parents told her, "If you get in trouble with a boy, don't come home." But my mom, as she shipped me off to BU told me, "When you get there, head straight to student health for birth control."
My mom also frequently told us not to do a half ass job. Usually this applied to cleaning the kitchen, the one chore Liz and I were to do everyday. But it's certainly stuck with me and if anything, I feel guilty when I don't wipe the crumbs off the counter.
The other best advice my mom gave was to never leave the house without makeup. She gave me makeup for my 8th grade graduation and the times are few and far between that I leave the house without at least lipstick or mascara. It's not just the makeup-- it's putting your best face forward. When she went into labor with me, she didn't leave for the hospital until she had put on eyeliner (and this was the 70s, when eyeliner was a big deal).
Finally, my mom told me to ALWAYS have a job. Not only a good way to get money, but a good way to manage time. Since I was 14, I've always held a job (with the exception of freshman year of college and I got in big trouble for that one).
So as my friends have children of their own, I hope to be able to share some good advice. Or at least help them apply mascara.
I couldn't immediately remember specifics from my mom or dad, so asked my sister. She remembered our dad telling her not to worry about things she couldn't control. "He told me this the night before my first day as a crossing guard. I was so worried about how I would get to school on time, how to hold the sign since I was too short to reach the top like the other crossing guards, etc. that I couldn't sleep and was crying."
Nora's dad used to tell her when she was worried about a test or something, "I'll blow up the building", which broke the ice and made her laugh. And I guess it's a way of re-evaluating the situation-- is it really so important to worry about? When I would worry about my grades in college, Nora didn't tell me she would blow up a building, but she did tell me to go to office hours and would remind me, "don't worry, the professors have seen worse than you."
Sometimes our parents' advice is contradictory. ET#1's parents told her, "If you get in trouble with a boy, don't come home." But my mom, as she shipped me off to BU told me, "When you get there, head straight to student health for birth control."
My mom also frequently told us not to do a half ass job. Usually this applied to cleaning the kitchen, the one chore Liz and I were to do everyday. But it's certainly stuck with me and if anything, I feel guilty when I don't wipe the crumbs off the counter.
The other best advice my mom gave was to never leave the house without makeup. She gave me makeup for my 8th grade graduation and the times are few and far between that I leave the house without at least lipstick or mascara. It's not just the makeup-- it's putting your best face forward. When she went into labor with me, she didn't leave for the hospital until she had put on eyeliner (and this was the 70s, when eyeliner was a big deal).
Finally, my mom told me to ALWAYS have a job. Not only a good way to get money, but a good way to manage time. Since I was 14, I've always held a job (with the exception of freshman year of college and I got in big trouble for that one).
So as my friends have children of their own, I hope to be able to share some good advice. Or at least help them apply mascara.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Momentum
Today's the last day of farm share pick-up, so I unless I actually do meet the love of my life at the intersection of winter squash and kale, the cautionary tale I'm about to write is almost certainly putting the carriage before the horse.
My director oversees a large program of medical residents, is on various national committees and is the mother of two grade school aged boys and a six month old puppy. She gets her fair share of female-in-power backlash and worries aloud that her work and travel schedule keeps her from spending adequate time with her boys. Before leaving for a weekend business trip to Chicago on Friday, she announced that she had sent her husband a detailed email explaining various soccer schedules and meal plans and reminders that the dog needed walking and homework needed to be done.
Monday afternoon she emerged from her office looking tired and announced she needed to leave a bit early in order to catch her son's second soccer match. She also said that upon returning the family life was in disarray: gym bags dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bags not emptied since after school Friday and homework not done, in part because one son stayed at her sister's house all weekend. "You know, there's a certain amount of momentum that needs to be in effect to run a household. It's going to be hard to get things going again." She described this, I know, looking for empathy, or at least sympathy and commiseration.
But what does this have to do with me?
As someone concerned about how I'll raise a future family, I already know that my math skills end with fractions (and even that's shaky). So a future husband would either have to be good enough with math to help with homework, or else we'll just have to get a tutor. But on all other grounds, I pretty much thought I had it covered. I can cook, I can keep a (decent) schedule, and I'm fun.
However, my Monday morning: gym bag dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bag not emptied since after work Friday, thumbs sore from video games. Apparently I have the same (lack of) momentum as 8 and 10 year old boys.
My director oversees a large program of medical residents, is on various national committees and is the mother of two grade school aged boys and a six month old puppy. She gets her fair share of female-in-power backlash and worries aloud that her work and travel schedule keeps her from spending adequate time with her boys. Before leaving for a weekend business trip to Chicago on Friday, she announced that she had sent her husband a detailed email explaining various soccer schedules and meal plans and reminders that the dog needed walking and homework needed to be done.
Monday afternoon she emerged from her office looking tired and announced she needed to leave a bit early in order to catch her son's second soccer match. She also said that upon returning the family life was in disarray: gym bags dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bags not emptied since after school Friday and homework not done, in part because one son stayed at her sister's house all weekend. "You know, there's a certain amount of momentum that needs to be in effect to run a household. It's going to be hard to get things going again." She described this, I know, looking for empathy, or at least sympathy and commiseration.
But what does this have to do with me?
As someone concerned about how I'll raise a future family, I already know that my math skills end with fractions (and even that's shaky). So a future husband would either have to be good enough with math to help with homework, or else we'll just have to get a tutor. But on all other grounds, I pretty much thought I had it covered. I can cook, I can keep a (decent) schedule, and I'm fun.
However, my Monday morning: gym bag dumped on foyer floor and clothes not washed, dishes in the sink, lunch bag not emptied since after work Friday, thumbs sore from video games. Apparently I have the same (lack of) momentum as 8 and 10 year old boys.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
In Need of an "Emma"
Jane Austen and all those Brontes seemed to believe that true love could be found by nary leaving your house...a house that was usually large and in a very rural location where few men would venture. But the men that did venture, they won the girls.
Here's a modern plan for me to meet a man without leaving my home:
1. From my 3rd floor front porch, lure passers-by a la girls in Amsterdam. Never mind that the typical passers-by are women and men with strollers and dogs and, most often, middle-aged lesbian couples.
2. Instead of making faces and grumpily leaping over the crevasses in my street made by construction men at 7 am, step outside and "accidentally" twist my ankle (the old damsel in distress ruse). The cigarette smoking townies will run to my aid.
Even Jane Eyre went to the market in town sometimes.
3. While picking up my farm share at the Coop, bump into a handsome, single, mid-30s aged man. My lettuce spills with his tomatoes and we decide to make a salad! We're married within the year.
Here's a modern plan for me to meet a man without leaving my home:
1. From my 3rd floor front porch, lure passers-by a la girls in Amsterdam. Never mind that the typical passers-by are women and men with strollers and dogs and, most often, middle-aged lesbian couples.
2. Instead of making faces and grumpily leaping over the crevasses in my street made by construction men at 7 am, step outside and "accidentally" twist my ankle (the old damsel in distress ruse). The cigarette smoking townies will run to my aid.
Even Jane Eyre went to the market in town sometimes.
3. While picking up my farm share at the Coop, bump into a handsome, single, mid-30s aged man. My lettuce spills with his tomatoes and we decide to make a salad! We're married within the year.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
A Modern Day Science Project
Intro and purpose
In a recent attempt to "go green", I bought a kitchen composting bucket, which promted my mom's comment,"oh, just like your 7th grad science project!" Indeed, my 7th grade science project involved several buckets of kitchen scraps, dirt and (in the non-control group), worms. My hypothesis was probably something like worms would help degrade the matter faster. My results were probably inconclusive since I likely started the project approximately one week before it was due. Twenty years later, I wondered if perhaps we all did science projects that ulitmately shaped who we became in our careers and lives.
Hypothesis
I distinctly remember 7th grade science being when I decided the environment was important and that I wanted to become a marine biologist. Today I am not a marine biologist; I recruit medical students into medicine and then work with the government to get them medical licenses. But I try my best to be an urban hippie-- I recycle, walk and take public transportation, make my own yogurt and bread and in general try to reduce my carbon footprint. I hypothesized that my friends' middle school science projects would likewise have a positive effect on their current lives.
Materials and Methods
Conducting research in 2009 is so much easier than in 1991! I need not leave my chair to simply email my friends. Email I did: "what was your 7th grade science project-- was it something that still influences you today?" The responses were slow in coming in...apparently people did not remember or else chose to forget.
ET#1 is now a scientist and provided this eloquent response:
"I did however have the following projects that i do remember:in the 4th grade I wrote and illustrated a biography of Daniel Boone. in the 5th grade I made a topographical map of California using salt dough. in the 7th grade I wrote a book of short stories in the style of Jack Londonin the 9th grade I wrote a computer program of Logo that was imitated what a hypercube would look like in a 2d image. Also, I remember some elaborate proof which was a final project on how to estimate the surface of a sphere not using calculus, but algebra only. in the 12th grade in applied math we designed how to draw our classroom using fractals and tried to reduce everything into iterative functions."
My sister did her project, "What Will The Dogs Drink?", an experiment that involved chasing the family pets around the yard and then letting them choose what to drink, red or clear water, salty or sweet, when they were sufficiently thirsty. This project got her the prize in the state competition!
Nora and Jane, a water chemist and law student respectively, both had stories of science fair shame: the fear of public speaking and anxiety about coming up with a worthwhile project. Jane in particular had a harrowing memory:
"I don't remember my 7th grade one but in 5th grade I signed up for an optional one, then procrastinated until the day of, went out and got some rocks from my yard, put them on the table and poured water on them to see which one would absorb water fastest. It had no tagboard no nothing. Just rocks sitting on a piece of paper. I was so ashamed that I didn't tell my parents I was participating and begged my friend to let me stand next to her rock -candy demo whenever she went to the bathroom."
I thought my former neighbor who currently lives, studies and works in a lab in Germany might have had an interesting project, but she couldn't remember. She thought maybe it had something to do with dinosaurs.
Data and Results
In true Andrea form, I'm taking a shortcut here and not providing charts or data. Part of being an adult is being able to make such decisions. I can also eat cookies for dinner and no one will care.
The results were a bit surprising initially, but ultimately make sense. There is a nearly common thread of procrastination, even if few of us actually refer back to the actual projects, or as ET#1 put "Sadly, I don't use any of those things, but I remember I liked finishing them. So maybe that is the lesson I took away. I also remember procrastinating starting each one. So maybe that is the real lesson I took away." Liz, however, is not a procrastinator, which likely helped in getting her to the state competition.
Conclusion
I'd like to make a joke here about how composting is akin to the government forms and documents, but instead I'll just say that regardless of our anxiety, forgetfulness or procrastination tendencies, we are all successful women.
In a recent attempt to "go green", I bought a kitchen composting bucket, which promted my mom's comment,"oh, just like your 7th grad science project!" Indeed, my 7th grade science project involved several buckets of kitchen scraps, dirt and (in the non-control group), worms. My hypothesis was probably something like worms would help degrade the matter faster. My results were probably inconclusive since I likely started the project approximately one week before it was due. Twenty years later, I wondered if perhaps we all did science projects that ulitmately shaped who we became in our careers and lives.
Hypothesis
I distinctly remember 7th grade science being when I decided the environment was important and that I wanted to become a marine biologist. Today I am not a marine biologist; I recruit medical students into medicine and then work with the government to get them medical licenses. But I try my best to be an urban hippie-- I recycle, walk and take public transportation, make my own yogurt and bread and in general try to reduce my carbon footprint. I hypothesized that my friends' middle school science projects would likewise have a positive effect on their current lives.
Materials and Methods
Conducting research in 2009 is so much easier than in 1991! I need not leave my chair to simply email my friends. Email I did: "what was your 7th grade science project-- was it something that still influences you today?" The responses were slow in coming in...apparently people did not remember or else chose to forget.
ET#1 is now a scientist and provided this eloquent response:
"I did however have the following projects that i do remember:in the 4th grade I wrote and illustrated a biography of Daniel Boone. in the 5th grade I made a topographical map of California using salt dough. in the 7th grade I wrote a book of short stories in the style of Jack Londonin the 9th grade I wrote a computer program of Logo that was imitated what a hypercube would look like in a 2d image. Also, I remember some elaborate proof which was a final project on how to estimate the surface of a sphere not using calculus, but algebra only. in the 12th grade in applied math we designed how to draw our classroom using fractals and tried to reduce everything into iterative functions."
My sister did her project, "What Will The Dogs Drink?", an experiment that involved chasing the family pets around the yard and then letting them choose what to drink, red or clear water, salty or sweet, when they were sufficiently thirsty. This project got her the prize in the state competition!
Nora and Jane, a water chemist and law student respectively, both had stories of science fair shame: the fear of public speaking and anxiety about coming up with a worthwhile project. Jane in particular had a harrowing memory:
"I don't remember my 7th grade one but in 5th grade I signed up for an optional one, then procrastinated until the day of, went out and got some rocks from my yard, put them on the table and poured water on them to see which one would absorb water fastest. It had no tagboard no nothing. Just rocks sitting on a piece of paper. I was so ashamed that I didn't tell my parents I was participating and begged my friend to let me stand next to her rock -candy demo whenever she went to the bathroom."
I thought my former neighbor who currently lives, studies and works in a lab in Germany might have had an interesting project, but she couldn't remember. She thought maybe it had something to do with dinosaurs.
Data and Results
In true Andrea form, I'm taking a shortcut here and not providing charts or data. Part of being an adult is being able to make such decisions. I can also eat cookies for dinner and no one will care.
The results were a bit surprising initially, but ultimately make sense. There is a nearly common thread of procrastination, even if few of us actually refer back to the actual projects, or as ET#1 put "Sadly, I don't use any of those things, but I remember I liked finishing them. So maybe that is the lesson I took away. I also remember procrastinating starting each one. So maybe that is the real lesson I took away." Liz, however, is not a procrastinator, which likely helped in getting her to the state competition.
Conclusion
I'd like to make a joke here about how composting is akin to the government forms and documents, but instead I'll just say that regardless of our anxiety, forgetfulness or procrastination tendencies, we are all successful women.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Help A Sister Out!
Why I love my sister. I sent her an email because of an overwhelming amount of personal projects. She's so good at lists and prioritizing!
My quandry:
Here's a partial list of projects that I've either thought about, bought supplies for, or started...but haven't finished. I need help!
felt fruits and vegetables
a new quilt/pillows
painting bathroom
sew slipcover for couch
create terrariums
finish composting project*
Liz's response
Do them like this:
1. finish composting prjct -- deadline this Saturday (this won't takeyou v. long and is urgent priority bc of the mold growing in your expensive bucket)
2. Paint the bathroom -- before new roommate moves in -- maybe this long weekend or during that time when your roommate is out and new person hasn't moved in yet
3. Slip covers -- Also before new roommate moves in but after you paint the bathroom.
4. quilt, felt produce -- start in the fall. it is too hot now for these things. Plus will be good for when you are snowed in.
5. terrarium -- also fall. enjoy your porch plants for now.
*There is an upcoming blog post on this fascinating project, but I'm lazy. Obviously!
My quandry:
Here's a partial list of projects that I've either thought about, bought supplies for, or started...but haven't finished. I need help!
felt fruits and vegetables
a new quilt/pillows
painting bathroom
sew slipcover for couch
create terrariums
finish composting project*
Liz's response
Do them like this:
1. finish composting prjct -- deadline this Saturday (this won't takeyou v. long and is urgent priority bc of the mold growing in your expensive bucket)
2. Paint the bathroom -- before new roommate moves in -- maybe this long weekend or during that time when your roommate is out and new person hasn't moved in yet
3. Slip covers -- Also before new roommate moves in but after you paint the bathroom.
4. quilt, felt produce -- start in the fall. it is too hot now for these things. Plus will be good for when you are snowed in.
5. terrarium -- also fall. enjoy your porch plants for now.
*There is an upcoming blog post on this fascinating project, but I'm lazy. Obviously!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Miss USA
I've been hit with a case of nostalgia something bad. Maybe, like allergies, it's something in the air...Nora and I recently dyed Easter eggs, a craft that hearkens many years of spring weekends spent. I also took up a sewing project and tried to remember my Grandma's instructions on hemming, pinning and sewing in a straight line. My daily perusing through the food blogs dredged up classics such as banana pudding, a snack my mom would make and serve after nap time. And I channeled my father when making my NCAA brackets this year, letting my heart dictate wins for KU and OU. But the clincher, the memory that if it was a cold would set me up on the couch with a roll of toilet paper for my nose for at least two days, was this: a commercial for the Miss USA pageant.
My friends parents and my mom always advocates of slumber parties for my friends and me. A group of us regularly met at each others houses and set up our sleeping bags in dens, played cards, Nintendo and ate junk food to our hearts' content. We'd stay up until 4 am or until the very last one of us couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.
The best slumber parties were the ones when Miss USA was on. From 1990-1993 it was hosted in Wichita, so naturally the whole town was excited and we'd host our own viewing parties. Simultaneously, we'd host our own version of the competition-- Miss Fruitcake (we were enlightened 12 year olds and never took the competition seriously. We all expected to go to college and work hard and if in the course of life we were viewed as attractive in swimsuits, well, that was a bonus). We raided our mom's closets for old dresses and put on make up. My house had a staircase leading to the den and I remember LH vamping in a white satin gown with her golden curls.
Sometimes the best cure for disease is administering a small dose of the offending allergen. With that in mind, if you call on me Sunday night, you might just find me wearing a tiara on the couch, watching the pageant Live from Las Vegas. And that roll of toilet paper? Not for my nose...as any good adolescent girl knows, tp is best stuffed in bras to create falsies.
My friends parents and my mom always advocates of slumber parties for my friends and me. A group of us regularly met at each others houses and set up our sleeping bags in dens, played cards, Nintendo and ate junk food to our hearts' content. We'd stay up until 4 am or until the very last one of us couldn't hold her eyes open any longer.
The best slumber parties were the ones when Miss USA was on. From 1990-1993 it was hosted in Wichita, so naturally the whole town was excited and we'd host our own viewing parties. Simultaneously, we'd host our own version of the competition-- Miss Fruitcake (we were enlightened 12 year olds and never took the competition seriously. We all expected to go to college and work hard and if in the course of life we were viewed as attractive in swimsuits, well, that was a bonus). We raided our mom's closets for old dresses and put on make up. My house had a staircase leading to the den and I remember LH vamping in a white satin gown with her golden curls.
Sometimes the best cure for disease is administering a small dose of the offending allergen. With that in mind, if you call on me Sunday night, you might just find me wearing a tiara on the couch, watching the pageant Live from Las Vegas. And that roll of toilet paper? Not for my nose...as any good adolescent girl knows, tp is best stuffed in bras to create falsies.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Passover Advice From Two Non-Jews
Last year ET#, a former roommate and I staged our first Passover Seder. A year later, being not quite experts in the Jewish faith, we still query each other on technicalities. But anyone could learn from us! Who needs Joan Nathan?!
me: last night had matzoh ball soup from the mix for passover but got a headache from the msg
ET#1: i don't make from mix
me: you are a good Jew
ET#1: it is super easy yes i am a good jew
i threw away all my bread
me: but I like the salty goodness from the mix and I did use schmaltz from my chicken earlier in the week
ET#1: wow
me: but since the chicken was roasted in milk it wasn't kosher
ET#1: i think it might be milk and chicken okay
me: really?
ET#1: milk an beef not okay
me: huh well, it's okay by me either way
ET#1: because a chicken sandwich with ceese okay but a cheeseburger bad
me: really? why would you have a chicken sandwich with cheese? unless it was chicken cordon bleu which is illegal
ET#1: chicken parm
me: OH YUM!! and it's kosher you say?
ET#1: am pretty sure me: using matzoh crumbs?
ET#1: will email my friend i think it is korsher just not allowed during passover big difference anyway matzo balls totally easy to make sans schmaltz as long as you have tasty broth and seperate eggs
me: yes, I am sure you are right
ET#1: no jews in baltimore
me: really??
ET#1: or at least near where i live
me: what about those movies about jews in the 50s in baltimore...
ET#1: i think they live up north in reierstown
me: I'm trying to think
ET#1: really? what movies
me: I don't know I have to think/google but I feel like I can see one in my mind
ET#1: now i am hungry for matzo ball soup
me: last night had matzoh ball soup from the mix for passover but got a headache from the msg
ET#1: i don't make from mix
me: you are a good Jew
ET#1: it is super easy yes i am a good jew
i threw away all my bread
me: but I like the salty goodness from the mix and I did use schmaltz from my chicken earlier in the week
ET#1: wow
me: but since the chicken was roasted in milk it wasn't kosher
ET#1: i think it might be milk and chicken okay
me: really?
ET#1: milk an beef not okay
me: huh well, it's okay by me either way
ET#1: because a chicken sandwich with ceese okay but a cheeseburger bad
me: really? why would you have a chicken sandwich with cheese? unless it was chicken cordon bleu which is illegal
ET#1: chicken parm
me: OH YUM!! and it's kosher you say?
ET#1: am pretty sure me: using matzoh crumbs?
ET#1: will email my friend i think it is korsher just not allowed during passover big difference anyway matzo balls totally easy to make sans schmaltz as long as you have tasty broth and seperate eggs
me: yes, I am sure you are right
ET#1: no jews in baltimore
me: really??
ET#1: or at least near where i live
me: what about those movies about jews in the 50s in baltimore...
ET#1: i think they live up north in reierstown
me: I'm trying to think
ET#1: really? what movies
me: I don't know I have to think/google but I feel like I can see one in my mind
ET#1: now i am hungry for matzo ball soup
Monday, March 30, 2009
Lenten Resolutions
I started observing Lent well after I quit attending church. Protestants aren't so big on Lent anyway (there's no rules like fish on Friday) and most Catholics I knew seemed to make it like a diet. But I started observing maybe 6 or 7 years ago, in part because my sister started. I found it kind of refreshing to take away something I enjoyed for a limited amount of time and appreciate my life going on without that item. Many years I gave up shopping for fun. Obviously I'd allow myself necessities like groceries and soap, but would not allow myself to purchase dresses, makeup, skirts or going out shirts from H&M, for example. One year I tried to give up gossiping, but I realized a goal is only as good as it's ease.This year I am trying two things. The first is going to church. So far so good. I only go on Sundays so it's not like I have to think about not eating chocolate every day of the week.
The second is a pantry challenge-- I only eat the food I have in the pantry and in the fridge and freezer before buying new food, and I only allow myself to go to the grocery store once a week. After G left, I never really got used to cooking for one, so would still make enough for at least two, and therefore the freezer was stuffed to the gills with frozen soups and casseroles. Since grocery shopping is also one of my favorite pastimes, I frequently make purchases willy-nilly. Thus my pantry was filled with bulk items such as kasha and millet and wheat berries, boxes of fancy pasta from the North End, dried fruits and puffed rice for homemade powerbars. Oftentimes I'll find a recipe and buy the ingredients and just use some of it. See kasha, above.
So as Lent started, so did the challenge. I've learned that pasta does go a long ways. As does bacon. Together with some sour cream I improvised a pasta carbonara, which lasted the whole first week in various iterations (including adding braised tomatoes and eggplant). I've learned that soups can use up ingredients like scallions and mushrooms. I also made a soup using anchovies, a can of tomatoes and some pasta. "How interesting you had anchovies" said my mom. My point exactly! I've learned that the crock pot is my best friend-- bread pudding uses up leftover bread, eggs, cranberries from the freezer and the end of a carton of milk.
A month down and I can see the bottoms of my shelves of the fridge and have freed up some pantry jars for more pasta and rice. Above all I've learned that I don't need to go to the grocery store every few days. Careful planning has helped me save money and trim my waistline. But maybe above all I've learned to cook for myself. Just one.
See my recipe for pantry cleaning muffins on my friend's blog, Puff and Choux.
The second is a pantry challenge-- I only eat the food I have in the pantry and in the fridge and freezer before buying new food, and I only allow myself to go to the grocery store once a week. After G left, I never really got used to cooking for one, so would still make enough for at least two, and therefore the freezer was stuffed to the gills with frozen soups and casseroles. Since grocery shopping is also one of my favorite pastimes, I frequently make purchases willy-nilly. Thus my pantry was filled with bulk items such as kasha and millet and wheat berries, boxes of fancy pasta from the North End, dried fruits and puffed rice for homemade powerbars. Oftentimes I'll find a recipe and buy the ingredients and just use some of it. See kasha, above.
So as Lent started, so did the challenge. I've learned that pasta does go a long ways. As does bacon. Together with some sour cream I improvised a pasta carbonara, which lasted the whole first week in various iterations (including adding braised tomatoes and eggplant). I've learned that soups can use up ingredients like scallions and mushrooms. I also made a soup using anchovies, a can of tomatoes and some pasta. "How interesting you had anchovies" said my mom. My point exactly! I've learned that the crock pot is my best friend-- bread pudding uses up leftover bread, eggs, cranberries from the freezer and the end of a carton of milk.
A month down and I can see the bottoms of my shelves of the fridge and have freed up some pantry jars for more pasta and rice. Above all I've learned that I don't need to go to the grocery store every few days. Careful planning has helped me save money and trim my waistline. But maybe above all I've learned to cook for myself. Just one.
See my recipe for pantry cleaning muffins on my friend's blog, Puff and Choux.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Home Buying: A Tragedy
A close friend (we'll call her Dora) recently purchased her first condo. A new home requires lots of upfront work, like painting and minor repairs and renovations. But also some future planning. I sent Dora an email offering to go with her to Home Depot to plan her porch container garden and she sent me this response: "Russo's is much cheaper for this stuff than Home Depot! I've heard it through the grapevine by people that compared prices! "
However, just today her Facebook status says, "Dora is getting to know Home Depot so well! Like we're best buds now." I sense future conflict. Let's see how this pans out over the next few months...
The condo walls look fantastic. Dora and Terry (her hubby) spent the better part of three days painting, courtesy of paint purchased at Home Depot. What does Russo's think about this?
Dora: "Fortunately Russo's is mainly a grocery store, so doesn't even know that I get painting supplies from someplace else."
Three months hence, on a balmy spring day-- grilling and drinks on the porch.
Andrea: "What a great grill-- Terry, you can really do a number on these veggies! Speaking of which, so delightful! Where could you ever have purchased a fine grill like this and such handsome, fresh vegetables?"
Terry: "We picked up the grill from Home Depot! Dora's really developed a close relationship with Depot recently. Depot even joined her bookclub!"
Dora (eyes averted, sheepishly): "But the veggies...they came from Russo's."
Andrea (suddenly serious, with judgement in her eyes): "Don't you think it's a little unfair for you to still be seeing both Depot and Russo's? I think you ought to pick one and let the other know."
Two months later, in the heat of summer, I visit Dora and Terry. Dora looks ravaged and thin, with dark circles under her eyes. The condo is quite...hot.
Andrea: "Can't you guys get an AC, or at least some fans in here? It's 95 degrees outside!"
Dora: "No...Depot won't see me. I buy too much produce from Russo's and Depot has shut me out! And Russo's is too 'cheap' to give us a cooling device. We'll have to sit outside, where at least there are plenty of ferns."
Fortunately there's still time to get this resolved, early in this relationship...what will Dora decide?
However, just today her Facebook status says, "Dora is getting to know Home Depot so well! Like we're best buds now." I sense future conflict. Let's see how this pans out over the next few months...
The condo walls look fantastic. Dora and Terry (her hubby) spent the better part of three days painting, courtesy of paint purchased at Home Depot. What does Russo's think about this?
Dora: "Fortunately Russo's is mainly a grocery store, so doesn't even know that I get painting supplies from someplace else."
Three months hence, on a balmy spring day-- grilling and drinks on the porch.
Andrea: "What a great grill-- Terry, you can really do a number on these veggies! Speaking of which, so delightful! Where could you ever have purchased a fine grill like this and such handsome, fresh vegetables?"
Terry: "We picked up the grill from Home Depot! Dora's really developed a close relationship with Depot recently. Depot even joined her bookclub!"
Dora (eyes averted, sheepishly): "But the veggies...they came from Russo's."
Andrea (suddenly serious, with judgement in her eyes): "Don't you think it's a little unfair for you to still be seeing both Depot and Russo's? I think you ought to pick one and let the other know."
Two months later, in the heat of summer, I visit Dora and Terry. Dora looks ravaged and thin, with dark circles under her eyes. The condo is quite...hot.
Andrea: "Can't you guys get an AC, or at least some fans in here? It's 95 degrees outside!"
Dora: "No...Depot won't see me. I buy too much produce from Russo's and Depot has shut me out! And Russo's is too 'cheap' to give us a cooling device. We'll have to sit outside, where at least there are plenty of ferns."
Fortunately there's still time to get this resolved, early in this relationship...what will Dora decide?
Thursday, February 05, 2009
Herding Cats
Soul is about six years old, but still on occassion has the fire of a kitten. He's recently taken to jumping in the kitchen sink and on the kitchen counters-- really the only places in the apartment he's not allowed. Below are some suggestions and tips I've received to dissuade him from this bad behavior.
1. Spray him with a water bottle.
tried? yes.
result? hates it, but not enough to keep him off the counters permanently.
2. Solitary confinement: catch him after he jumps off the counter and toss him into the dark bedroom for the evening while Nova and I enjoy tv and snacks.
tried? yes.
result? keeps him off the counter for the time he's in the room, but the jealously tactic doesn't work and he's back on the counter as soon as he's released.
3. Whisper, "you're a goooood cat, you're so well behaved! be a goooooood cat" to him in his ear while he's sleeping, as sort of subliminal messaging.
tried? yes.
result? positive! he seems to like positive attention at least as much as negative attention and since I've started this tactic, he's maybe jumped on the counter slightly less. But he still jumps on the counter.
4. Scold the counter, not the cat. Idea being that who would want to jump on a counter that always gets in trouble?
tried? nooooo....
5. Spiritual guidance.
tried? not yet. St. Francis prayer cards, candles and icons will soon be ordered from totallycatholic.com.
1. Spray him with a water bottle.
tried? yes.
result? hates it, but not enough to keep him off the counters permanently.
2. Solitary confinement: catch him after he jumps off the counter and toss him into the dark bedroom for the evening while Nova and I enjoy tv and snacks.
tried? yes.
result? keeps him off the counter for the time he's in the room, but the jealously tactic doesn't work and he's back on the counter as soon as he's released.
3. Whisper, "you're a goooood cat, you're so well behaved! be a goooooood cat" to him in his ear while he's sleeping, as sort of subliminal messaging.
tried? yes.
result? positive! he seems to like positive attention at least as much as negative attention and since I've started this tactic, he's maybe jumped on the counter slightly less. But he still jumps on the counter.
4. Scold the counter, not the cat. Idea being that who would want to jump on a counter that always gets in trouble?
tried? nooooo....
5. Spiritual guidance.
tried? not yet. St. Francis prayer cards, candles and icons will soon be ordered from totallycatholic.com.
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