A friend was going to Cincinnati for the weekend and really looking forward to some Cincinnati chili, though she didn't say what differentiated Cincinnati chili from Michigan chili or anybody else's chili, for that matter. I think they put cheese and crumbled corn bread on top, but am not positive; forgot to ask.
Anyway, when she got back on Monday, I asked her if she got it, and she said nope, she didn't get a chili, but she sure got a cold.
I think she meant that as a play on words.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
My sister came home from work the other day, and the two cats come out to greet her as usual, but the adventurous one did not. Little Nateri (no, she’s not blue) is always the first one to come boinging into view, and it was a little worrisome that she didn’t, given that Sister lives on the main road, and it was bitterly cold.
Sister spent the evening worrying about her and going outside to call, “Kitty, kitty.” Well, she finally did find Nateri, when she happened to look over to an empty popcorn box, and saw a tiger striped hump sticking out. Nateri had simply stepped into the box and hunkered her head down so far that she had apparently closed off her own ears, and couldn’t hear her mom calling for her.
How she managed to breathe in there, considering she had curled herself up into a vertical ball is an interesting question; along with… why? This was definitely not a kitty sized box and she could sleep anywhere she wanted to sleep. Well, anywhere she was allowed to sleep. I think it was Shakespeare who once said, “Ah, the mind of a kitty; who can fathom?”
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Folks: Many apologies, had computer problems for the last week and could not post this last story in the clothes series. In fact, I had to threaten the computer with getting a techy friend to come fix it, and all of a sudden, the computer decided to work beautifully! Imagine that.
The last guy was an old punk rock drummer, with a huge bald spot in front and bushy long hair in the back. I will say that he looked much better after they stripped him and made him a baldy. Left a three days growth of beard, of course. “A bit of casual stubble keeps him in rocker territory,” says the lady who was making all these improvements on the men. I say that a man who wants to stay in rocker territory does not wear a red and white striped t-shirt, and he decidedly does not wear a blue cardigan! Okay, granted; it wasn’t hot pink, like the first guy, but it still made him look like Mr. Rogers was about to go sailing.
Guys, I’d like to say something here. Many men don’t really care how they look and could definitely use some female instruction. However, you’re the one who will get laughed at if you show up looking a little too feminized. I say, if you’re not comfortable with what she’s handing you to wear, you do have to right to “just say no.”
Friday, February 11, 2011
The next guy was a custom builder; the owner of a construction company. He had a salt and pepper beard and had on jeans and a canvas jacket. He looked like he owned a construction company, until the interior designer of a girlfriend got a hold of him. She got rid of most of his beard; just enough to uncover his rather unattractive mouth. Not all of the beard, of course; he still had a three days growth.
He had on this blue blazer with decorative buttons all over the place, and a fussy little handkerchief poking out of his breast pocket. The topper, however, was the pants; they were bright red. The girlfriend thought he was gorgeous now; said he looked like an Italian aristocrat. I won’t comment on what I thought he looked like, though I will give him some credit. He did understand that he couldn’t wear that outfit to the lumberyard if he wanted to keep his reputation with the guys. Kind of hard to take a guy in red pants seriously, you know.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
I was recently waiting for my sister to get done washing her clothes at the local laundromat and flipping through a “woman’s magazine” because that was the only thing available. Usually these things bore me to death, but occasionally they do run a good practical article, and this one actually had several in the same publication.
Then I came across a picture of a man, and it was a man, wearing a pink checked shirt and this weird olive green/tan colored suit thing, who had obviously not shaved for several days, and this was the “after” picture. This was supposed to be an improvement on his old looks. The “before” picture showed him with a long straggly beard, in jeans and a nondescript logger’s shirt. Granted, he did look pretty scruffy, but nothing that a decent shave job and a trip to a men’s store wouldn’t fix.
Apparently, the poor guy’s very sophisticated girlfriend decided he needed improving. How she managed to talk him into not only putting on the clothes, but also agreeing to being photographed in them for all the female world to see, I don’t know. She must have promised him some incredible noogy, and an awful lot of it. I gotta say, he did sort of look like the type who would simply go along with whatever a strong-willed and good looking girlfriend said. But still, I have to wonder if it didn’t at least cross his mind what his male friends would say. I’m pretty certain that, at least among the men I know, that outfit would make him the laughing stock of the entire town, and they would never let him live it down.
The next guy’s “improvement,” this one by his daughter, wasn’t really that different than what he was wearing before, except that his new look was much more expensive. He paid something like $400 just for the pants, another $400 for a watch, and $200 for the shoes.
The real jaw-dropper, though, was the sweater. It was a simple, cabled white sweater, and this sucker paid over a thousand dollars for it. The description did not say one word about a life-time guarantee against all wear and tear, holes or spots; something he could hand down to his children and grandchildren.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Best Writing Surface
I just read Laura Whitcomb's article "Organizing and Developing Ideas" in the January 2011 issue of Writer’s Digest. Her advice when using note cards to organize and develop writing ideas is to, "Spread out the (note) cards on the floor or a large table. (A bed is not recommended. The first time you lean on the mattress to reach a card and they all slide together, you'll find out why." I had to laugh when I read that, because she left out the best organizing surface available.
I write and spread my cards out on my massage table. As it is seven feet long and roughly three feet deep, there is plenty of room to spread things out, and still have room to write. It is right next to my computer, so I can simply go back and forth as the spirit moves. I can use either the face cradle or my rolling treatment chair to store my organizing book if the table is full of cards. Another advantage is that the surface is padded, which makes it much more comfortable on the arms. And mine has a table warmer! I can crank it up to 144 degrees if I want to.
There are a couple of disadvantages. As it is padded, I have to be careful with the pop cans, or risk sticky and brown note cards and Writers’ Digest magazines. It's also possible I could get zapped from the table warmer if it got wet. The most obvious disadvantage, of course, is when a client comes in for a massage and I have to not only clear off the entire table, but organize it so the room still looks neat. As this only happens two or three times a month, it's not that big of a deal; just a little inconvenient. And considering that the income I make from those clients pay for my computer, I can't complain too hard, can I?
If you use note cards to organize your thoughts and/or plotlines, it might be worth investing in a cheap massage table for around $150. The $60 table warmer is optional. Or check with local massage schools or practicing therapists, as they might have a used one you could buy.
They also make a great place to stretch and can be used for extra seating. In an emergency, somebody can sleep on it, if they don't wiggle a lot in their sleep. I'd suggest you back one side up to the wall, and put it at the lowest level.