Shamrocketship

I dream of Jeannie? No. Nicole Kidman? Yes.

It's been a while since I had a bizarre dream to report.  Last night's qualifies.  I was going to New Zealand on a business trip but the plane landed in Australia instead.  We (passengers) were told by the flight attendants that it was OK that we landed there because we could just take the shuttle over to NZ whenever we needed to.   There was one leaving every 15 minutes all day, every day.

I remember being very relieved to hear that.

Next I was at the curb with my bags,  and then I was getting into the car picking me up, and of course it was Nicole Kidman driving it.  The steering wheel was on the right - is that true in Australia?  Anyway I wasn't surprised to see her at all.  She took us (someone was with me but I don't know who) on a road that had a MAJOR STRAIGHT UP AND DOWN HILLS on it - these things and roller coasters are the stuff of my nightmares and it's pretty clear that they symbolize anxiety for me even if I'm not consciously feeling any. Anyway, I held my breath and shut my eyes until I could feel we were on level ground again and when I opened them up we were pulling up to the curb at Nicole's house.  Which was full of people having a party.

It was a very modest house, and the car was a blue PT Cruiser, in case you were wondering.

OK, maybe this one wasn't as weird as the aquatic donkey dream, but still.

Cat Tricks

It's easy to teach cats tricks.  I taught one of mine to give me her paw, sit up, and roll over, all by associating command words with actions she frequently demonstrated anyway.   So I shouldn't have much of a problem teaching Max to "play dead," since I come home to find him looking like this most days:

 

Must run in the family

 Now that we have her diploma safely in hand, I can post this picture of something we got in the mail back in November:

I know, I know.  Some people would say it's all about following the rules blah blah blah.  But given that this was the only detention she got in high school, and it was for sneaking into the library, I laughed 'til I cried. 

And then I posted it on the refrigerator for the rest of the school year, right next to the report cards with the A's and B's.

She's got my genes.

It takes more courage . . .

Found this in a library book.  Looks like someone wasn't enjoying their homework assignment very much. Caution:  Contains f-bombs.

Not what I expected

Well, the results of the previous post are in and they were completely the opposite of what I expected.  It was intended as an April Fool's joke I was playing on my newly licensed, hair-obsessed daughter, but she didn't believe it for a minute.  Instead I seem to have snared three bigger fish. 

The quoted girl is Meghan Nettup? - say that three or four times fast . . .

Here, in case you want to make your own:  The Newspaper Clipping Generator

First Cell Phones, Now This

My daughter won't be happy about this.

As usual, click to enlarge.

Pet Update

Charo Chia Day 11: 

I think we may have achieved full Chia plumage today.  It's pretty easy to see what direction the sun was, eh?  We're going to have fun turning it this way and that for the next few days.  I'm trying to figure out how to prop it up on an angle so the "hair" grows straight up. 

    

In other news, Fiona says:   Ur baskit?  I haz it.

Max responds:  Baskit too hi up.  Chare iz eesier.

Max's Night Out

I took Max to the vet last night for an eye condition that just wasn't going away.*  He loves going out and about, and was very relaxed while we were there in spite of the poking and prodding.  When the nice lady vet was done examining him, he jumped off the table, laid down and rolled over on his back, exactly as he's doing in this old picture:

He's on the left, by the way.

The vet looked down at him and laughed.

I told her he was doing his speed bump impersonation for her. 

Her response: "At my house, we call that "road kill."

*Yes, it wasn't going away but today, before we've even had a chance to get the Rx, it's clearing up nicely.  I am convinced it is the mysterious healing power that comes from having written a $180 check to the vet.

All Dressed Up and . . . and . . . um . . .

6uy777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777+98888888888888888888888888888888*6

/That first line was typed by Max and I'm going to leave it there. He's a superstar, after all./

OK. So I'm still the newcomer up on the third floor, getting to know the people who sit and work around me.  No one works with me, per se, because I'm a staff of one, but there are still other people that I'm getting to know.  One woman approached me today while I was getting a glass of water and she said something that really caught me off guard:  "I love that outfit.  Where do you shop?  You always look so put-together."

My spoken response, which is 100% true:  "Nowhere in particular.  I just pick up pieces when I see them, and just kind of put them together in a lot of different combinations.  But thanks!"

My unspoken response, which was also 100% true:  "If I knew this woman better, I'd be telling her that five minutes ago, in the ladies room, I discovered that I'd put my underwear on wrong today.  Not wrong like inside out, but like . . . sideways.  SIDEWAYS.   And since it isn't bothering me one bit, I left it that way." 

You'd better be using protection, Son

Ever since the Unfortunate Envy Incident wherein my son "lost" his new phone, he's had to make do with a series of beat-up, used, featureless models that I continue to supply  him with so we can keep in touch easily.  The latest one had an "Unfortunate Bike Incident" and the screen got smashed, so any texting or caller ID was out of the picture and has been now for many months. 

This weekend, he came into the possession of a new, used model with intact screen functionality.  Within hours, his umpteen friends had learned of his regained powers, and were sending messages fast and furiously. 

Which caused my son to acknowledge out loud, as he ran to pick up the vibrating phone and read another incoming message: 

"I'm textually active, Mom."