New Rules

It dawned on me recently that a new rule has developed in my family. If someone is asked to do a chore or a favor, and a cat is sleeping on that person, that person is now exempt from any obligation asked of them.

For instance, if I call out for someone to unload the dishwasher and it turns out a cat is sleeping on them, they no longer have to unload the dishwasher. I may do the chore myself or call on a sibling to take the chore instead. There may be some grumbling on the part of the sibling, but it is generally understood that whomever has a cat sleeping on them is now rendered useless because they have just become a human bed for a sleeping cat -- and that takes precedence.

It works for me as well. When a child of mine asks me to do something and I say, "I would, but the cat is sleeping on me," they say, "fine, I'll do it myself" (which they probably should have done themselves anyway).

We are thinking about getting more cats.

3.15

We did not, however, celebrate the Ides of March. I think celebrating the assisination of a tyrannical leader belongs to someone else.

Happy Pi Day

Yesterday was Pi Day -- 3.14. We celebrated by making little individual chocolate cream pies and discussing how Pi is the largest irrational number in the universe. We also discussed measuring the circumfrence of a circle.

Pi Day -- Hoorah!

A Case of Mistaken Identity

Yesterday after grabbing a few things at the grocery store, I walked out into the parking lot and got in the wrong car -- a car that looked like mine, but was parked two parking spaces closer -- we've all done that, right? However, not only did I get in the wrong car, I first walked up to the car, noticed what looked to be like a crayon mark on the side, thought, who wrote on my car with crayon while I was in the store, proceeded to lick my finger and wipe the mark off. After standing there for a second wiping the car with my spit, I opened the driver's side door, and with my one grocery bag in hand, started to get in. . . and was stopped short by the sight of a half topless woman in the passenger seat, one breast exposed, and an eager baby in her lap. She was talking on a head set cell phone. "Oh my God," I stumbled, "I am so sorry." I removed my leg from inside her car and shut the door quickly. I really didn't notice a reaction from her, just that one breast popped out and the gaped-mouth baby.

I walked to my car, the correct car, got in while still repeating "oh my God, oh my God". I had to catch my breath and stop laughing before driving. Luckily, on the way out of the parking lot, she was now standing outside of her car holding the baby and could see that I was in the exact same model and color of car, proof that I was not just some freaky pervert. As I drove by, shrunk down in an apologetic wave, she mouthed "that's ok."

Moral (if there is one): Don't lick the side of a strange car, you may get flashed by the owner.

Chloe and the Band

The cat's love to play with hair bands (I giggle at the word "hair bands," like heavily made up 80's rockers). The cats pick the hair bands up in their mouths and carry them to us, dropping the bands in front of us so we can shoot them across the room, they go fetch and trot them back. I ask you, are we not cats? We are kittens. (photo by Hannah)

Not Just Puppy Love

Every afternoon our two kittens, Chloe and Max, take a nap wrapped in an embrace. They spend the rest of the day frolicking, pouncing, and pummeling each other. (Photo by Hannah)

Blob or Blog

How many times do you go to type in a blog address and accidentally type in "blob" instead of "blog." Me neither.

WWJD. . . with his estate?

I heard that if Shakespeare had an estate today (like Elvis does), it would be worth millions. (I also heard that Shakespeare was a capitalist, and while he was famous for his plays, he was wealthy from buying and selling real estate and owning stock).

This lead me to think about Shakespeare's legacy and his timeless insight and witticisms, which lead me to compare him to another man who has quite a legacy and present day influence, Jesus Christ. I wondered which of the two had the largest legacy (probably Jesus, but Shakespeare is an equal contender I would argue). This then lead me to think, if Jesus had an estate, how much would that be worth? (Not to include the estate of the Catholic church or all the money that has been extorted or spent on wars that have been fought in the name of this "love-your-neighbor" man). But if he actually had an estate, WWJ'sEBW?

pOtato, pAtato

You say NeanderTal and I say NeanderTHal. Let's call the whole thing off.

Whistling and Parades

Right now Cole is in the other room whistling "Go Tell It On The Mountain" while he is instant messaging friends on the computer. (I can hear the tell-tale alert sound of new messages and key board tapping mingled with the whistling. You don't have to be a super spy, just a mom, to know what your kids are doing in the other room). He learned this song in band practice at E.V. Cain.

Today Cole marched with the E.V. Cain band in the Veteran's Day Parade through down town Auburn. It was very strange to witness, being a peace minded person myself. Through the sparsely sifting rain, crowds on the sidelines cheered for the war veterans and the young soldiers marching through the middle of town. I clapped along too, out of respect. I couldn't help but get a bit choked up and feel the weight of the event, especially when I saw a car full of women with a banner announcing that they were part of a mothers' organization. I looked at the wrinkled faces of the men and women and wondered how many people they knew had died in a war and how it must have changed their lives. I looked at the pride on the faces of the young soldiers. My oldest son Brent, who came along to support his younger brother, kept commenting too loudly how he would never support a war. I kept reminding him to keep it on the down low, just for now.

I wouldn't have been at this parade if Cole wasn't in the school band. I am glad he gave me the opportunity to see this event and marvel at how differently groups of people can see the world.

I can still hear him whistling in the other room, and it is the best music ever.

David ahhhh Sedaris

David Sedaris just told a story on "This American Life" about people defecating inappropriately in stores or libraries (i.e. not in the restroom). Of course, gross as this topic was, he was hilarious.

Recently a couple of friends and I went to see David Sedaris at The Crest Theater in Sacramento. I had purchased tickets several months in advance and waited anxiously for the day when I could sit admiringly and listen to the man speak in person. However, forty-five minutes in to the reading . . . I fell asleep!! It's not like he was boring. He was very engaging -- prompting a laugh, a chuckle, or an applause from the audience on average every thirty seconds or so to my estimate. How could I fall asleep?! I wondered what the people sitting next to me thought of my sure-to-be gaped mouth and bobbing head ( I didn't get to sit next to friends, they surely would've prodded me awake).

I can explain myself, however: the lights were dim, the chair was (somewhat) comfy and I love being read to. Really, it was a complement to David. I just regret that I didn't get to hear the end. I was told it was great.

OK Yeah

There is a "new" band called Ok Go that my friends and I saw about four years ago when they opened for The Donnas at Sac State (horrible sound at that venue). I must give credit to my friend Jason Adair because he declared that very night that he really liked the band. I, on the other hand, did not pay that much attention to them, except after the show, when just horsing around asked one of the band members to sign the back of my t-shirt, which he did.

Recently my daughter asked me to check out a really funny video from this new band she liked called Ok Go. I said, oh them, they signed the back of my shirt. Yeah, they're pretty good.

Things I Learned Today From Books

Today I learned the term "anthrodermic binding." Anthrodermic binding is when the skin of a previously living thing is used to bind a book about that thing. I learned about this while reading a recounting about an incident in the early 1800's when a murderer was put to death and then his skin was used to bind the book that a reporter (much like Truman Capote) had written about the murderer. . . c-r-e-e-p-y.

I also learned that urine can bleach a Lincoln Log cabin white. This was from a passage about another author's childhood. There are some pretty interesting things to read out there.

Naked Statues

I am really glad that I live in a town that has "naked statues." They make a great point of reference. Today a girl at Kinkos was giving me directions to a Print Shop in town and she said, "so you know where the naked statues are?" I nodded yes without batting an eye and she gave me directions from there. As I passed the statues I thought, just look at those points of reference.

More Quotes

"Like Shakespeare said, droppin' g's from gerunds is always cool," Stephen Colbert, of the Colbert Report, during an episode about today's youth.

"Society praises its living conformists and its dead rebels," Dr. Gunther Von Hagen, creator of Body Worlds, The Anatomical Exhibition of Real Human Bodies, defending his controversial exhibit.

Maybe next time I will post original material of my own. However, don't quote me on that.

Fat Is the New Black

. . . a direct quote from designer Isaac Mizrahi when he was a guest on Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me. He said that male actors are chubbier than they used to be. And then he declared, "Fat is the new black."

Fantasy Fishing

Yes, there really is such a thing as Fantasy Fishing. It is a good time to bond with upper-management as your company forms a pool to pick which professional fisherman will catch the most fish (possibly which kind and what size??). Oh, Sign me up!

The Night I Borrowed-Without-Asking The Auburn Police Department's Golf Cart and Did Not Return It Until The Next Day

Ummm, that's all I want to say about that.

A Change In The Air

It suddenly got chilly here. The weather changing always sparks such peculiar sentiments: a mingling of sadness and excitement. Leaves have also started falling off the trees seemingly over night; the long summer's activity of watering the yard (which at spring time I approached with a sense of nurturing and anticipation, I now, months later, tend to with a weary sense of responsibility) will soon be replaced with raking leaves (which I am sure I will approach with an eagerness and enjoyment of the earthy smells that raking stirs up, but then after months, perform with a sense of resentful obligation at the invading leaves).

. . . the changing atmospheric patterns affect more than just centigrades. And more than just seasonal activities change: it reminds me of children growing, loves come and gone, and years added to my life and my friends' lives.

It also really makes me want to buy new sweaters.

More Groups With Slogans

There is an all-male, gay yoga class in New York who's slogan reads: "It's Your Gay Responsibility."

What is your slogan?