So here’s the situation. It’s 8:00 p.m. on Saturday night. I just spent the day cleaning my garage. Loads of fun. I’m grimy, dusty and full of chili because after I spent the day cleaning my garage I made a pot of veggie chili. Then I made macaroni noodles to put the chili on because that’s how my ex’s family did it in Kansas City. So since 1982, when we married, that’s how I’ve eaten it and now I can’t eat naked chili.
Anyway, now I’m stuffed. I also fed my animal crew and my foster cat, all of whom I assume are stuffed as well. My foster cat is nameless because I don’t permanently name them until I know they’ll be adoptable. I foster feral kittens and semi-feral cats. For some reason it’s harder for me to have to relocate them to outdoor homes (if they’re too feral to be adopted) after I’ve named them. Weird, huh?
So when I enter the room in which I’m housing a big orange tabby female, I say ‘Hey Boo Boo.” No reaction. Sometimes I say, “Hey Monkey.” But again, no response. I’ll try on a bunch of names during the time I’m fostering but once I realize that cat or kitten will be adoptable, a name will suddenly hit me and that’s the one that sticks.
Many moons ago, Jim, my ex-hubby and I had an old TV antenna on our roof, left by the previous homeowners. It was a huge metal eyesore, not connected to anything but the chimney, I suppose for support. Why it was still there? What purpose did it serve? Here’s my theory…
I believe that antenna’s sole purpose was to emit some sort of vibration recognized only by the dogs of Marin County. When they heard this silent emission, I envisioned German Shepherds jumping their backyard fences and Beagles leaping out open windows all in search of our front porch. I tell ya, if there was a stray dog within a mile, it seemed to end up at our house.
Now don’t get me wrong; not only did strays wander into our yard but I also spotted them (and still do) while driving about town. Knowing I’m an animal lover, Jim was convinced I enticed them with treats hidden in my car trunk or some such nonsense. I would never do that. I prefer to keep all treats in the glove compartment. Continue reading →
I just watched the movie Marley and Me with my fat cat, Jack. Yes, Jack watches TV. He’s a very observant guy. But if you haven’t seen the movie, I’m about to ruin it for you so you should probably skip the next paragraph.
Marley and Me is a comedy about a dog but also a tear-jerker because Marley dies, as dogs will do. I’d already seen the movie but I still cried like a baby. I’m talking crocodile tears that spilled from my eyes, missed my cheeks entirely, then landed on Jack, who lounged on my lap. Pathetic? Yeah, I’d say so.
Now that you virgins of Marley and Me are back with us, let’s continue.. Continue reading →
Never ride your scooter on the freeway in a tank top when you’re 62 years old. And when you have upper arms that, on a good day, flap around like fish out of water. Add whipping winds while you’re scooting at 50 mph and what you get is slapped silly by your own arms. I tell you, it’s not a pretty sight. Soon you’ll find yourself riding down the freeway with your arms pinned close to your sides so as not to cause a pile up when motorists look on in horror.
Okay, I changed my mind. Maybe my arms aren’t so bad after all
Do not attempt, on a Wednesday, to push your 153 lb. sister in a wheelchair DOWN Sacramento Street in San Francisco, especially after receiving the wrong directions to your destination. You will be on your heels the entire journey, mimicking one of those barefoot water skiers, in your attempt to prevent your sister from careening down a steep city street like Steve McQueen’s car in the movie, Bullitt. Now don’t get me wrong; what goes down must come up. All 153 lbs. UPHILL, in a wheelchair.
Yesterday I was reading about observational studies, including ways to influence people without actually speaking to them. In other words, silent communication. Not that I want to influence anyone, mind you. Nor be silent. As you learned in last week’s post, not speaking is tough for me.
But ever since I minored in Abnormal Psychology in college I’ve been fascinated by studies that attempt to interpret behavior (probably why I’m so interested in true crime stories). So here’s what I learned from these various studies:
1) If a person is interested in who they’re talking to and what they’re saying, their pupils dilate. So next time you go on and on about your crappy job, look closely into the listeners eyes. If those pupils are as tiny as a grain of sand, consider changing the subject. Sex is always an eye opener.
Definitely discussing sex
2) If you’re a waitress, studies show that servers who touch customers on the arm, shoulder or hand get better tips. So get grabby and rake in the bucks, ladies! I’m guessing that means waiters, however, should keep their hands to themselves, lest they get slapped with a sexual harassment suit. Talk about double standards…
3) If you want to look important, take up space. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not talking scarf an entire bag of Double Stuff Oreos and put on the pounds. Taking up space means it helps to sit tall during a job interview. Statistically speaking, taller people are more liked and rise higher, professionally, than shorter folks…just another reason for me to resent being 5’3”.