Pretty Kitty
My pretty kitty wasn't a happy kitty when I got home today. She was immediately shouted at for trying to escape, and then plopped behind a door and shut into the bathroom. I had a good reason, after all. Lots of groceries to get inside, no time or arm space to spare for keeping kitty inside. I let her out as soon as I was done, however, and let her sniff on the groceries. She was intensely curious about the smoked sausage I brought in. Too bad for her it's people food.
They had starfruit on sale today, so I bought one. Starfruit, for those who do not know, is slightly bitter at the beginning, then a little sweet while you chew, and very tart after you're done. I love the stuff. I couldn't believe it when I saw the pile of them, in Dirt Town, of all places. I could expect it in New York, or San Francisco, or somewhere like that. Maybe Austin. If you turn a starfruit on it's end and look at it length wise, it's shaped like a five-pointed star. Take a hot dog. Hold it so you see only a puckered up circle. This is what I mean when I describe looking length wise. I like to cut them in slices so I'm eating bunches of tiny stars.
I also bought a few pomegranates. They aren't quite kiwanos, but they're a close second. I passed on the mangos. I'm not too fond of mango. In any case, I'll have lots of really good food to take to school for a while now. I was running out, and it was high time for shopping. Walmart is tomorrow, for the yoga mat and the film developing.
My story came back today, with seven sets of comments. Pretty extensive comments, too. I'm pleased. Now I've got to polish the thing (rewrite a significant portion of it), draft a cover letter, find some journals, and get it all together for submission on Monday. I've also got a book of short stories to read for Monday.
There are not enough hours in the day, I've decided. It should, by all rights, be about three in the afternoon right now. Then maybe I'd be able to get done all the things that must be done. As it is, that cannot happen. Heave a sigh with me. I'm sure most of us agree about the time. At least if we're honest about it.
Today was very busy, but I can't seem to remember most of it. This would scare me if I could remember why. Just kidding, about the scared part. I honestly can't remember much about my day, though. I know what classes I had, and I could sit here and figure out what we did in each class. But nothing sticks out in my mind, or shines in any way. I'd have to work to come up with any definite activities that took place. Oh! Except the parking this morning. That was great.
I was toodling along Indiana, going thirty mph, because the speed limit is - hello people - thirty mph. So this silver car gets up on my ass cause I'm not going fast enough for the driver. I keep my speed and we stop at a red light. She inches up behind me, as though the whole foot she moves during the red light will get her somewhere faster.
When I don't pick up speed quickly enough, she swerves - no blinker! - into the other lane, and goes just a little bit faster. At the last minute, she cuts in front of me to get into the turn lane. We pull up to the light, and it's a green arrow. The first two people in line go through, and the light turns yellow. The third person goes while it's yellow, and then the silver car goes too; the light turns red before she enters the intersection. I guess she's in a hurry.
I can see her path while I'm waiting at the light, and in a twenty mph zone, one lane, she passes - no blinker! - someone to get to the parking lot before he does. As the light turns green, I can see her begin to circle.
I enter the parking lot, and begin searching for a spot in the farther reaches, where I'm more likely to meet with success. Impatient Girl is getting fed up with the circling at the close end of the lot, and comes over into my territory. I know she recognizes me, because she sneers. She also takes up the whole lane playing chicken, forcing smarter individuals to pull to the side and wait for her to go by.
I life my hands at this and make a puzzled face at her, like I can't figure out what kind of crazy thing she's doing; she glares. We meet in this way two more times, and I start to grin at her like we're friends. Each time, I can tell that she's getting madder and madder, frustrated in the hunt for a spot. I can tell that she fears I'll get her kill.
From the corner of my eye, I see a red truck pull out of a distant row of cars, and I know there wasn't a red truck circling the lot. We keep tabs on cars that are hovering, so we can eliminate false alarms. I finish the row, confront Impatient Girl with my father's best routine. This includes grins all around, clapping motions, thumbs up and cheering. It drives people crazy. Somehow, they get madder over that than if we had flipped them off.
She in turn slams her hands down on her steering wheel at me and raises a finger. I laugh. I'm not at all upset at this point, since we've each only been at it for about six or seven minutes. It's not a big deal until you reach twenty. Then people need to watch out because tempers begin to rise.
In any case, I finish the row and come around as though I'm leaving the lot to hunt elsewhere. No cars have entered the lot in the very short mean time, and I scoot on down to the row I think the truck exited. I turn into the row, and go about half way to find a nice little empty spot. I park there, and get out.
Here's the fun part. As I'm walking down the sidewalk, I see Impatient Girl circling in the nearby spots, only a row from my car. She's so close, and I figure we can't leave as enemies, so I wave. She honks at me, and flips me off again. It was great.
No, by the way, I do not make it a point or a habit to infuriate fellow drivers. I was, however, offended by her actions, and by her general attitude. She got nothing more than she deserved, and if she'd have been nicer about any part of that brief acquaintance of ours, I'd not have tried - successfully - to get a rise out of her.
Oh well. That's the memorable part of my day, and now I'm going to do more memorable things, like grade papers. The new week starts today, so I'm now at zero for my quota. Yea, fun.
I'll tell you how tomorrow goes, if I can remember it.
End.
They had starfruit on sale today, so I bought one. Starfruit, for those who do not know, is slightly bitter at the beginning, then a little sweet while you chew, and very tart after you're done. I love the stuff. I couldn't believe it when I saw the pile of them, in Dirt Town, of all places. I could expect it in New York, or San Francisco, or somewhere like that. Maybe Austin. If you turn a starfruit on it's end and look at it length wise, it's shaped like a five-pointed star. Take a hot dog. Hold it so you see only a puckered up circle. This is what I mean when I describe looking length wise. I like to cut them in slices so I'm eating bunches of tiny stars.
I also bought a few pomegranates. They aren't quite kiwanos, but they're a close second. I passed on the mangos. I'm not too fond of mango. In any case, I'll have lots of really good food to take to school for a while now. I was running out, and it was high time for shopping. Walmart is tomorrow, for the yoga mat and the film developing.
My story came back today, with seven sets of comments. Pretty extensive comments, too. I'm pleased. Now I've got to polish the thing (rewrite a significant portion of it), draft a cover letter, find some journals, and get it all together for submission on Monday. I've also got a book of short stories to read for Monday.
There are not enough hours in the day, I've decided. It should, by all rights, be about three in the afternoon right now. Then maybe I'd be able to get done all the things that must be done. As it is, that cannot happen. Heave a sigh with me. I'm sure most of us agree about the time. At least if we're honest about it.
Today was very busy, but I can't seem to remember most of it. This would scare me if I could remember why. Just kidding, about the scared part. I honestly can't remember much about my day, though. I know what classes I had, and I could sit here and figure out what we did in each class. But nothing sticks out in my mind, or shines in any way. I'd have to work to come up with any definite activities that took place. Oh! Except the parking this morning. That was great.
I was toodling along Indiana, going thirty mph, because the speed limit is - hello people - thirty mph. So this silver car gets up on my ass cause I'm not going fast enough for the driver. I keep my speed and we stop at a red light. She inches up behind me, as though the whole foot she moves during the red light will get her somewhere faster.
When I don't pick up speed quickly enough, she swerves - no blinker! - into the other lane, and goes just a little bit faster. At the last minute, she cuts in front of me to get into the turn lane. We pull up to the light, and it's a green arrow. The first two people in line go through, and the light turns yellow. The third person goes while it's yellow, and then the silver car goes too; the light turns red before she enters the intersection. I guess she's in a hurry.
I can see her path while I'm waiting at the light, and in a twenty mph zone, one lane, she passes - no blinker! - someone to get to the parking lot before he does. As the light turns green, I can see her begin to circle.
I enter the parking lot, and begin searching for a spot in the farther reaches, where I'm more likely to meet with success. Impatient Girl is getting fed up with the circling at the close end of the lot, and comes over into my territory. I know she recognizes me, because she sneers. She also takes up the whole lane playing chicken, forcing smarter individuals to pull to the side and wait for her to go by.
I life my hands at this and make a puzzled face at her, like I can't figure out what kind of crazy thing she's doing; she glares. We meet in this way two more times, and I start to grin at her like we're friends. Each time, I can tell that she's getting madder and madder, frustrated in the hunt for a spot. I can tell that she fears I'll get her kill.
From the corner of my eye, I see a red truck pull out of a distant row of cars, and I know there wasn't a red truck circling the lot. We keep tabs on cars that are hovering, so we can eliminate false alarms. I finish the row, confront Impatient Girl with my father's best routine. This includes grins all around, clapping motions, thumbs up and cheering. It drives people crazy. Somehow, they get madder over that than if we had flipped them off.
She in turn slams her hands down on her steering wheel at me and raises a finger. I laugh. I'm not at all upset at this point, since we've each only been at it for about six or seven minutes. It's not a big deal until you reach twenty. Then people need to watch out because tempers begin to rise.
In any case, I finish the row and come around as though I'm leaving the lot to hunt elsewhere. No cars have entered the lot in the very short mean time, and I scoot on down to the row I think the truck exited. I turn into the row, and go about half way to find a nice little empty spot. I park there, and get out.
Here's the fun part. As I'm walking down the sidewalk, I see Impatient Girl circling in the nearby spots, only a row from my car. She's so close, and I figure we can't leave as enemies, so I wave. She honks at me, and flips me off again. It was great.
No, by the way, I do not make it a point or a habit to infuriate fellow drivers. I was, however, offended by her actions, and by her general attitude. She got nothing more than she deserved, and if she'd have been nicer about any part of that brief acquaintance of ours, I'd not have tried - successfully - to get a rise out of her.
Oh well. That's the memorable part of my day, and now I'm going to do more memorable things, like grade papers. The new week starts today, so I'm now at zero for my quota. Yea, fun.
I'll tell you how tomorrow goes, if I can remember it.
End.
posted by Rehkmira @ 23:08
1 Comments:
At Wednesday, September 15, 2004 6:49:00 PM,
Anonymous said…
Please be careful in the parking lot. sr
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