Tag Archives: lemur

Wee paws for station identification

OMG, Internet, OMG. We’ve been on quite a spree around my place. The clocks are all flashing 11:11 at least twice a day, and the sink isn’t clogged anymore.

We went to my little nephew’s “parade” for Little League opening day. It was pouring rain, and we stood in it while hundreds of children swarmed around the block, led by a police car that occasionally flashed its lights. It was a real zen koan of a parade: Is it still a parade if no one is watching? This didn’t really bother my nephew, because he is a star. He is doing jazz hands in the group photo.

So what the fuck else. I’m learning Mandarin Chinese, and that’s tough. The inflections are a killer. You think I’m kidding, but I’m afraid I’m not. The more plausible something seems, the more likely I made it up. So if I’m telling you I brushed my teeth, I probably didn’t. Bought tickets to Easter Island? You bet!

I was having dinner with some friends the other night, and we were doing “roommate rundown.” I mentioned someone I’d lived with for three years, and idly wondered what happened to her. After dinner, we stopped at a bookstore, and her father stopped me in the Shakespeare aisle and gave me her phone number. Noo noo noo noo, twilight zone. But why is that if I say “I wish I had two billion dollars,” I never run into that in a bookstore?

Then today I think we impulse-bought a loft. We were just out for a walk, and then a little of this and a little of that, and some business cards were exchanged, and things were signed, oh boy. We should not be allowed out without supervision. My lawyer is gonna love this. Oh well.

Then I called to tell my parents about the loft, and somehow I ended up having a conversation with my mother about anal sex. For the record, she’s not that into it, but I suggested that she just didn’t give it a fair shake.

Love my way

If it’s Tuesday, it must be Wednesday. I seem to be operating under a different time zone. I have a hard time falling asleep at night because the days are sunny and I want to pee on fire hydrants, but that’s OK, because the animals are on parade. Ocelots and apes! Donkeys and alligators! They look like felt hand puppets in shades of magenta and yellow. Oh, it’s a hippo. There goes the puffin. I think the antelope is a jerk. If I really can’t sleep, I crush the animals with Tetris blocks.

I fired the cleaners last month because they were making meth in the guest bathroom with MY Sudafed. They still show up once a week and sadly press their noses against the window, but I shout “NO!” in Spanish, or maybe Portuguese. So now I am cleaning everything in sight, ADD-style. I have to abandon what I am doing at least every ten minutes and go do something else, but things eventually get done. I had a conference call the other day, and what the other participants did not know was that I was on a ladder in the tub, scrubbing the corners of the ceiling with a toothbrush dipped in bleach. Cleanliness, Godliness. Fumes. All that.

Later I picked up trash on the street uncovered by melting snow while yelling into my headset. I wasn’t on the phone then, just yelling. OK, I was on the phone. But headsets make everyone look insane. So does picking up trash, but I can’t help that. it’s in my blood.

Go forth. Nip. Tuck. Spackle. Exfoliate. Oil those hooves. Shine your horn. Shake those bones.