Some days more than others, I'm much more equipped to deal with the commute and the tons of people I have to deal with on the streets. Today was not one of them. I walked off the train feeling overwhelmed and wanting to turn around and head back home. Even as I type this I'm tired and grumpy, and it's taking everything in me to be productive. I need an iced coffee. I'm babysitting my friend's cat for the next few days, and I'm a little worried about it. Granted, he's in a new environment with some strange lady and it's only been less than 24 hours since his mama left him, but I'm concerned that he's spending way too much time hiding under my coffee table. He did a little exploring last night while I was watching TV, but that didn't last long. The minute he heard noise from outside, he bolted for the table. Sigh...I hope he adjusts soon.
Update: As you can tell from the photos above, little kitty eventually came out of hiding and was so cute. He loved rolling over and having his tummy rubbed and I found it interesting how his paws would always flex--he'd stretch them out then close them up again. He was always at my feet, which meant I accidentally stepped on him a few times. I guess he can't help being affectionate! In the last pic he's checking out my bookcase, trying to figure out a way to get up there. He never did figure out the logistics. But he did manage to find a teeny tiny hiding place by my stove. Amazing how a 20-pound cat can squeeze his body into such a tight space. ---------------------------------------------
So, I have another new favorite TV show that I've discovered during my Netflix summer. Everyone and their mama has been telling me how great this show is, but without access to Showtime and an already packed TV schedule, I never had a chance to check it out. I'm talking about Dexter, the friendly guy-next-door-do-gooder serial killer. Love him! I'm watching the Season 2 finale tonight, which makes me a little sad. Season 3 doesn't come out until August 18, which is only one month and maybe three weeks away, but I'm addicted. Just can't get enough of Dexter Morgan. Oh well...hopefully Battlestar Galactica and The Tudors will keep me distracted.
I thought this ad campaign was awesomeeven though I hadn't seen the show yet.
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In the past I've gotten a few wrong numbers. The most noteworthy of those was some man with a very heavy accent looking for some girl. To my ears he sounded like some drunk pimp looking for his hooker, but that could have just been my overactive imagination. After a while those calls stopped--I think he may have realized he was dialing the wrong number when no one was calling him back. I think I distinctly remember him sounding a little pissed in one of his messages.
Anyway, today I received my very first wrong number text. This is what it said: LOL Did I kiss your Bf? Oy vey...had so much fun with you guys. Thanks for saving me from all the crazy boys.
From what I can tell, the call originated in a suburb of Chicago--the Northbook West area. No clue where that is. It must have been one hell of a night for this young lady if she's kissing her friend's boyfriend. Or best friend...who knows? For a second there I thought I might have actually had a life last night. But I guess my evening with the anti-social cat was real.
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Upon seeing my checkcard, the Starbucks guy made an observation today that no other cashier has ever made: You're not from around here, are you? At first I was a little confused and simply said that I was, well, at least now. I guess you could consider me a person from this area after five years. He said my Wells Fargo checkcard tipped him off because there weren't any here. At that point the light bulb went off and I explained to him that his assumption was correct. He proceeded to tell me he was from Texas and I said I was from California.
As I walked out, I couldn't help wonder what the correct answer to the where-are-you-from question is without giving my life story. The question has never offended me--it just confuses me. While I was in TN last weekend, the question was posed to me and I automatically blurted out California. I guess it's because this person knew I'd traveled from NJ and knew I probably wasn't "from" there.
Sometimes the question gets even more confusing when it's meant to be where are you from, as in what country did your parents come from? See? Confusing question. My answer hinges on various factors--the conversation, the circumstances, the person, whether the full moon is in the house of Saturn. Sometimes I don't even feel like I'm from this planet, so maybe I should just say Venus. I think my response next time will be Hawaii. For some reason that seems to make sense to people and doesn't warrant any further explanation.
Update: Yeah, I was feeling a little random that day. I pretty much recorded every thought that popped into my head, well, the ones that didn't have to do do with work.
Ayo nice rug in the first photo! From what little I've seen, your place looks nice.
ReplyDeleteAnd I always say I'm from Seattle whenever anyone asks. It's the place that seems most like "home" to me.
I dislike the "where are you from, no, REALLY from" question, although I do admit I haven't had to field that one in a while.