Four for the Fourth for You

The girls and boys wanted to show you their patriotic side this Fourth of July. This post is so late because it took me that long to get their d@$& pictures!

Mooch is last because he was the hardest. He had no less than 12 takes.  I envisioned the cats would sit nicely and stare at the camera. Clearly, I was delusional.

If you are wondering who that cat in the middle is, stay tuned.

For now, I sign off to either the sound of fireworks or gun shots. At this point I am unsure.

Happy Fourth of July, everyone!

 

So You Will Never Guess Where I Have Been. No Really, You Won't.

Yes, I have been gone a while.  The last you heard, we rescued a new pup, Nevada, because we are insane.  You know what makes it even more insane? We were leaving the very next week for a 10 day European vacation.  Seriously.  Oh and I was sick. Twice.  Grrr.

Luckily for us, Nevada is an easygoing and adaptable dog.  Jersey went, as planned, to her favorite fun place, doggie daycare, where they also board.  Cool thing? They are not crated, but always free and someone spends the night there and the boarding dogs gets to sleep in bed with them. I wonder if Jersey tries to get under their covers too.  Anyhow, Nevada was underweight, without all of her shots, and without enough time to see her disposition with large groups of dogs. My brother was kind enough to house sit for us including watching Nevada and feeding the three cats.  Bonus - he even trained Nevada on certain things. If he could have crate trained her, I would have wept with joy, but I will take what I can get.

I will be back to talk about the vacation as I have many, many photos to download and then decide what to upload.  Nobody needs to look at 400 of my photos (or the 1300 B took). Yes, we have issues. Maybe we should be a traveling photography team. Sounds so exciting!

For now, satisfy yourselves with more pictures of Nevada and Jersey in the first couple of days.  After 10 days apart, they are readjusting to each other a bit, but I am sure (read: I hope) things settle down again soon.

Eyeing each other

So regal looking.

So aloof

Sharing the same toy

Sharing (or fighting over) another toy.

We missed these girls when we were gone.

If It Is Going to Be a Bad Day When You See a Werewolf, What Happens When You Are Standing Barefoot in the Cold?

Remember about a week or two ago when I said I had a bad day that started with a werewolf sighting?  Well, I topped myself without even trying.  Every week it is my job to take out the recycling on garbage day.  If I was not the hugest procrastinator around, I would do this the evening before.  That, however, is not in my nature.  So I do it the morning of pickup.  I had the routine down to a science, or so I thought.

You see, our front door does not self lock. Neither does our back door, but for an entirely different reason.  Often I have told friends, family, and delivery men not to worry about the door shutting or slamming behind me, "it won't lock me out."  You know what this means, right? IT FLIPPING LOCKED ME OUT.

Of course that would be the morning I elected not to wear socks or shoes despite the fact that it was under 50 degrees. I was also in a tshirt with wet hair having just gotten out of the shower.  No keys. No phone. No mad survivor skills.

It was 6:30 a.m.

It was dark. It was cold. I was PISSED. I think I said something like "YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" I looked around our very dark neighborhood. No one was up. And if they were, what where they going to do for me?  So I go to the back where we have a spare key in a lockbox. I don't know the code.

I DON'T KNOW THE CODE TO GET MY OWN SPARE KEY TO MY OWN HOUSE.

And it is dark and I cannot see. And I have no shoes. Did I mention that?  

I go back up front to see if I can force the door open and see the hip neighbor guy taking his garbage out. I run over there with my lockbox and scream "DO YOU KNOW THE CODE TO THIS?"  Sadly, he did not. But his wife did because she lets Jersey out for us occasionally. He invites me inside and then says "Are you not wearing any shoes?" 

I DIDN'T PLAN THIS YOU KNOW!!

So I got in and ready for work, although I never really got warm again. When I got to work I sent B a text that said:

FYI - Should you go outside with wet hair and no shoes on, you will get locked out in the dark having forgotten the code to the lockbox.

To which he replied:

Don't worry. I know it.

There is a lesson here folks.  Teach your dog how to open doors. Because, as it turns out, the door was not even locked.  The door handle on the outside just wasn't working properly. Had Jersey pushed down on the inside door handle, I could have gotten in. Instead she ran from window to window wondering what fun I was having outside.  I was having a blast. An arctic blast.

Tomorrow is garbage pickup day. What are the odds that I:

1. Wear shoes
2. Wear a sweatshirt
3. Lock myself out
4. Remember the code
5. Learn any lesson from all of this

I better start training Jersey right now.

The Cast of Characters May Change, But I Remain Insane

Have I ever told you how crazy the people in my office building are? Not the people I work with, although they have their days, but the people in the other office suites, in the lobby and in the parking lot?  It is enough to make me appear like this on any given day:

Here are some of the characters I deal with:

The Child Walking Around in an Adult Body While Waiting for the Elevator:

Man: Is that an attorney's office?
Me: Yes.
Man: Are you an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Is HE an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Is SHE an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Did you go to law school?
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Mr. Obvious Stalker:

Man: Do the elevators typically take this long?
Me: Yes, when one is broken.
Man: One is broken?
Me: Yes. [pointing to Out of Order sign]
Man: So one is not working?
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Village Idiot Posing as a Salesman:

Man: I am looking for Danielle's office.
Me: I am Danielle.
Man: No.
Me: What?
Man: She is taller than you.
Me: I am sitting down?
Man: She has your hair.
Me: Does she have my glasses?
Man: Yes.
Me: I am her.
Man: No.
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Woman Who Should Have Had a Door Slam in Her Face:

Me: [opening door for lady with VERY full arms]
Lady: I don't need you to open the door.
Lady: I am not going that way.
[and then she followed me through the door]
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

This all happened in the span of one hour on one day.

I wish I were kidding.

Just a Rapper that Doesn't Rap But Boy Does He Know How to Sell

There are always a cast of characters outside the main courthouse. Usually it is homeless guys, but occasionally there are people that are trying to sell you something.  Typically that "something" turns out to be their homemade music CD.  I cannot even imagine what such things sound like.  So far I have been able to contain any impulse buying.  However, I recently met up with quite the salesman.

After crossing the street, I see this guy do a little dance that ends in a flourish and with his one arm out holding a CD.  You know I am a sucker for some street dancing.  So I laughed:

Me: Well, I like your presentation.

Him: Oh, baby I like  YOUR presentation.*

Me: Thank you, I am not interested in your CD.

Him: Are you sure? It has some good rapping.

Me: No thanks.

Him: But they call me the "Nerd Rapper."

Me: Wait! Are you calling me a nerd?

Him: Yes.

Me: Huh. Well I don't like rap.

Him: Me neither. That is why I only rap about important stuff like politics.

Me: I don't much like politics.

Him: Me neither. That's why this is about ufology which is about how aliens are invading our religion.

Me: I don't really believe in aliens.

Him: Me neither. That is why this rap is about education.

Me: You have a comeback for everything, don't you?

Him: Yeah, baby.

I have to give him props for trying and for making me laugh after a very difficult morning in court.

No, I did not buy the rap-that-isn't-rap-but-about-politics-or-aliens-or-education CD.  Probably my loss.

And for no other reason than I mentioned the word "rap" enjoy this funny commerical I only recently saw courtesy of Katelin:

*Yes that was said in a totally "I'm gonna sex you up" way.

If My Dreams Were a Plot to the Movie of My Life

I would do a lot of running as I would be chased a lot. Sometimes I would get caught. Mostly I would not. Usually I would get tired.

I would find myself inexplicably deserted topless in South Africa. I would find a scarf, cover myself up, find a payphone and after hitting the one and only button, continuously repeat "American Embassy" until the next scene showed me back in the US with no further explanation.

My mom and John Mayer would get in a fight at Thanksgiving dinner. He would try to show off by speaking in a different language. My mom would talk back. John Mayer would inform me that my Mom was actually speaking Turkish while he was speaking Yiddish so he could not understand her. However, he would be massively impressed with her intelligence. I would set aside my belief that he is a douche and we would all leave happy.

The dinosaurs would roam the earth again, recurrently throughout the movie. We would all run through the alleys to escape while the overhead speakers on the telephone poles would blare "The dinosaurs are coming, The dinosaurs are coming" in case we did not know.

The cats would be crying all of the time.

I would get chased by murderers and spend an inordinate amount of time running, screaming and hiding.

A man would want to change my dad's arm (played by another person of course) into a two clawed slimy thing (kind of like MaryAnn's arm when she turns in True Blood). However, my dad would be given the choice to have them do mine instead, which he would choose. This procedure would involve amputation. Since I have never had my arm amputated before, I will choose to pretend it feels like getting stitches and so it will. My "dad" will faint at the scene. I will never get to see my claw.

I would then be on a table being forced into an ultrasound even though I am not pregnant. They will get my cooperation by waterboarding me. Then another woman will jump on top of me and do CPR like movements to my stomach chanting "make a baby, make a baby". Later, I will review an ad I placed in the paper that looks like an obit except it is pink and has a unicorn on it. It will announce the "end" of the baby that never existed which will be named something like Email Text Chain and will state that although I claim there never was one, the baby is now gone.

The movie will end with me trying to drive up a freeway ramp that goes straight in the air while in a convertible. Miraculously, I will not fall out of the car.

And there will be choregraphed scenes, probably involving music.

Who wants to be my producer?

*All of the scenarios above are from actual dreams I have had. Some, like the dinosaurs, since childhood. Most of them recently. I am not on any drugs.

It's Like that Song Jam On It that I Used to Think Was Jamboney and Which Has Nothing to Do with This Post

Did I ever tell you how B hates it when I hear him incorrectly and then ask him why he would say such a thing? Perhaps it is because when I hear something wrong, it is REALLY wrong. As in it makes absolutely no sense. Yet I will swear that is what was said. This gets B in a tizzy. B in a tizzy can be a funny thing.

So, imagine my surprise when the tables were turned. At first I thought B could not spell. Turns out he was suffering from some Dani-fied hearing:

Me: I think the dog is looking for her b-o-n-e.

B: What?

Me: Her b-o-n-e.

B: What is that?

Me: Huh? What?

B: What is that?

Me: Um, a BONE.

Me: Maybe I should start spelling things I don't want YOU to hear. Goodness.

Fast forward a couple of days when I bring that conversation up:

Me: Remember when you couldn't spell bone? Good times.

B: When could I not spell bone?

Me: Um, when I said Jersey was looking for her b-o-n-e and you had NO clue what I was talking about.

B: Oh, that is because I thought you said boney {note rhymes with Monet or Lisa Bonet}

Me: What? What the hell is a boney?

B: I don't know.

Me: That doesn't even make any sense.

B: Well that's what I heard.

Well, well, well. I guess we are all crazy round these parts.

As if that was in dispute.

*Tell me you didn't just start seeking Jam On It but it really sounded like you were singing "Jamoney" or "Jamboney."

**I am singing it and it is disturbing Jersey's sleep. I think she secretly likes it though. Or else she wants her b-o-n-e.

How to Rock the Family Reunion

Before the reunion, learn your Dad plans on bringing ice cream. To a picnic. In a cooler. Declare that to be overboard and very involved in planning (dry ice, wet ice, ice ice - too much to think about).

1:35: Arrive late. Pretend that you are not late. Shout out "we've arrived" so that people think that you think that you are not late.

1:36: Wonder where the heck all of the people are? Pretend you don't notice half the family is missing.

1:38: Tell them you brought ice cream. Find out that everyone thinks that is a brilliant idea.

1:40: Accept many accolades. Thank them graciously.

1:45: Finally admit it was your Dad's idea. To your Mom who already knew.

1:46: Remember there is no ice cream scoop.

1:47: Tell everyone that the ice cream was your Dad's idea and they will have to eat it with their fingers.

1:48: Text husband. Ask him to bring ice cream scoop.

1:49: Wonder where husband is.

1:50: Wonder where the #@#^@&^ the family is.

1:51: Get distracted by a brownie.

1:52: Assure Mom she is not a jinx since half the family didn't come the one time she decided to make an appearance. Totally coincidental. Totally.

1:54: Hug, kiss, catch up.

3:00: Time to eat.

3:01: Wonder where husband is.

3:02: Declare hubby cannot eat when he shows up since he is nowhere to be found.

3:10: See husband pull in. Glare in his direction.

3:12: See him come in waving an ice cream scoop.

3:13: Whoop loudly and declare him a hero while clapping.

3:14: Family joins in clapping. They don't know why. Hell, they may not even know who husband is or why he is there.

3:15: Eat. And have a brownie.

3:30: Hug, kiss, catch up.

4:00: Watch husband get his ass handed to him by a 4 year old in cow's balls.*

4:10: Listen to the 4 year old brag about it.

4:12: Listen to husband declare they weren't keeping score.

4:30: Watch your father and other adults beat up kids during volleyball.

Well okay, there it looked like my brother was getting beat up.

Nice action shot there. Great poise for a serve A.

My brother sure doesn't look like he is doing much, does he?

Again, with the waiting around. As you can see, that was action packed.

4:31: Take pictures to be used as evidence later. (See above).

4:33: Video it with your camera. (Do not look for a video on this post. See below).

4:43: Remember you don't know how to transfer video to your computer.

4:44: Say that and other things while videotaping.

4:45: Realize husband is oddly silent. Realize he doesn't want to be heard on the video.

4:46: Get distracted by a brownie.

4:50: Watch ice cream become a hit! Note to self: Buy huge boxes of Dove ice cream bars next time, you will be a hero.

5:00: Watch husband decide to juggle bocci balls.

5:01: Caution him about breaking his finger.

5:10: Almost get brained by your husband with a bocci ball.

5:11: Watch it instead hit the metal pole making a bell like sound.

5:12: Watch everyone look at you for a speech.

5:13: Announce "thank you all for coming..."

5:15: Watch everyone realize husband is trying to juggle.

5:16: Watch husband choose smaller balls.

5:21: Listen to them ask why he has his back to them the entire time.

5:22: Assure them it is because you are taking pictures and husband is camera shy.

5:23: Start singing circus music.

5:25: Clap with the family as husband juggles.

5:20: Listen to the family clap to encourage him.

5:30: Watch people leave.

5:35: Play with a volleyball with husband which is more like playing dodge ball, soccer, and football all in one.

5:36: Wonder how many bruises you will wake up to in the morning.

5:40: Watch husband leave.

5:45: Catch up with the remaining family and plan next year's event. Discuss how to coerce, threaten and bribe the rest of the family to attend.

6:45: Arrive home exhausted from too much fresh air and brownies.

Same time next year?**

*I guess it is really called Ladder Golf, but we were playing with children so Cow's Balls sounded so much more appropriate.

**I am talking to YOU family. Yes, you the ones that did not show up. A 4 year old had to play with a...well...not quite 4 year old. How wrong is that? Well, he did win. I guess he's okay with that.

Introducing the Newest Member of Our Family...

Meet Lil' B. Isn't he cute?

Okay, well his real name is Bradford.* B calls him Brad or "cat." I call him Lil' B because he is so frickin' little. It is hard to photograph Lil' B as he is always on the move.

By the way, I recently vehemently said no to a third cat. Many times. So how did we end up with this one? Well he was a stray that my Dad found. Although he was one of a litter, all of the other kittens were killed. My Dad assured me he was the sweetest thing ever. He even let my Dad put a collar on him. I told him to bring him over for a meet and greet. Lil' B never left.

He is very loving. In fact, that is him trying to get some loving from me while I am trying to take his picture. As soon as he gets anywhere near you he starts purring the loudest I have ever heard. He loves to sit in your lap and be pet and will just look up at you content. Sometimes he pulls a Chester and puts his paws on your face or crawls up your neck. Luckily he weighs less than three pounds.

You are probably wondering why all of these pictures occur on our back porch. Well the vet told us Lil' B had an upper respiratory infection so he had to be quarantined from the big boys. As a stray, he didn't seem to mind. He had plenty of food and water. I also made sure to visit him in the morning and evening and play or love him. B (the original that is) would also go out and visit with him of which I was unaware (and after Lil' B became less sneezy and drippy - gross). I caught them outside one day like this:

How could you not love that face? Well, ask Chester and Mooch. They are not fans. More so Mooch then Chester. Lil' B was given the all clear by the vet and we have spent the last two days attempting to introduce and mostly mediate the three cats. Lil' B thinks things are great. Mooch thinks it is the end of the world. Chester is curious.

I need ear plugs.

Seriously. Mooch spends most of his time howling, growling, hissing and running away. This only causes Lil' B to chase after him. It is probably a good thing Mooch doesn't have claws. Meanwhile Chester stays cautiously back and watches/stalks the new cat. Lil' B loves to charge at him only to get frightened at the last minute and turn away. If the new cat is on the move, Chester will run right behind him. At one point I was trying to catch Lil' B who was running with Chester behind him and me behind Chester. Yes, we all ran in a big circle before I realized I was chasing a cat who was chasing a cat. You can call me Garfield. Actually, Garfield probably wouldn't chase a cat but that is the only cartoon cat I can think of at the moment.

Chester will come into the same room and will come near me to get pet if the cat is in my lap. Well, at least until Lil' B bent down and bit his head. Chester looked at him and made this pitiful little howl.

Sigh.

So for now, Lil' B is sleeping on the porch and only inside when either B or I are home to make sure no one is killed. Meanwhile, I am trying not to dream of the howls, growls, moans and hisses that are happening on a daily basis.

We are in for quite the ride.

*Lil' B's name is an homage to the street where he was found.

Now Playing the Part of B...

B: Say that you and I went to a concert together...

Me: That has never occurred in the entire time we have known each other.

B: And it won't.

B: But say that we did, and I was behind you wearing an Atari shirt...

Me: Now THAT could happen.

B: Anyway, you came up to me because you were trying to find your seat.

Me: Wait. What? Who are you in this scenario?

B: Oh, I am playing both parts. I am the boyfriend and the usher.

Me: Oh. Right. That is not at all confusing.

What Brings You to These Parts?

I am always amazed at what people search to get to this little old blog so I thought I would share some with you:

"the mad hair" scientology - did they mean mad hair scientist?

Good night words to say to your spouse - usually I say "good night", works like a charm

Who is Badass - my bro is, haven't you heard?

swingers - we have a swing, does that count?

"rule breaker" - always

"seth" and "dani" - sound like a cute couple. Who the F is seth??

3 3 legged midgets in a room with 6 women riddle - how is it possible to have 3 legs?

blogspot of dani girls - there is only one dani girl

can spammers get in trouble - nah! But I bet you can get them in trouble

clown makeup - you must mean my neighbor

dani pitt - someone's living in fantasy land. Brad, you have Angelina, isn't that enough?

cyborg husband - that's B

cookie monster logic - that's also B

discount living room furniture - sounds so seedy. It was just Craigslist people!

eyeful spunk - there.are.no.words

fish mammaries - do fish have breasts?

fort knox conspiracy theory - um, k.

how to solve a case of the mondays - wait until Tuesday

hugh jackman have to pee bad - um, k.

ideas for extra rooms - fill them with stuff and call them Dani's Room of Stuff (insert own name)

rugs - yep, we got plenty. Even some from a - discount store *gasp*

sensing a bad case of the mondays - people just dont like Mondays

porn: thick glasses blind without - doesn't sound very fun porn, does it?
wheres dani - where is that bitch? She hasn't posted since last Monday!

Real post tomorrow folks.

What Do Suicidal Jumpers, Train, Hobos, Hookers and Strip Joints All Have in Common?

These are all things I encountered on my ride home the one night. Not my usual trip, that's for sure.

Because of a suicidal jumper, the freeway was shut down for over 6 hours. Six hours up on a bridge. That man ain't a jumpin'. What did happen, however, was that my typical 45 minute drive turned into 2 hours.

For the first hour I traveled down a stretch of road spending most of it twittering since I wasn't moving at all. I also talked to my Mom. I then decided I needed another course of action and turned.

Thereafter I passed the area where the man was hanging off, or on, or around, a pedestrian bridge over the freeway. Know what I saw? An entirely different bridge full of gawkers. Um, nice. What do you want to see? A rescue? A jump?

I then traveled through a seedier part of town hoping for less traffic. Wrong. However, what I did find was:

1. 3 strip clubs
2. 2 hobos providing an explanation to the lady in front of me as to why traffic was so bad. Not sure why she decided to ask them. Their answer: "turn BACK" with arms flailing. It was a one way road.
3. 1 hooker/hitchhiker. She glared at me so I did not pick her up. If she had smiled, well...
4. 1 ridiculously long train into hour two

I mean, really, a TRAIN? It actually felt as if I was in some poorly written comedy where the heroine (that's me you know) is stopped at every angle from reaching her destination by whatever ridiculous means the lame ass writers can throw at her - potential suicide (check), freeway closure (check), crawling traffic (check), gawkers (check), hobos telling people to go in the wrong direction (check), hitchhikers (check)....um, what else? How about a train! Perfect.

Just perfect.

Have You Seen Katie?

The day of the big yard sale event, in between driving around town and picking things up that B "spotted", I heard a lot of yelling on my street. Everyone was looking for Katie. Who is this Katie, I wondered?

Katie is a dog.* More specifically, Katie is the dog that belongs to our neighbors across the street. The ones, who if you will remember, had a previous dog that was killed "tragically", but apparently that does not prevent them from letting the new dog roam around at will and get lost. So began a lot of yelling and a lot of searching. The dad got on his bike and took off down the road. On my way back from one of my many B trips, I saw the dad on his bike just moseying along with a slight grin on his face and wondered if he let Katie loose on purpose. Later I heard the daughter standing in her doorway moaning and wondering if Katie was on the "bad part of town"**.

Then Katie just walked right up to the porch.

Crisis averted.

Until the other day when B yells at me to come down and bring my phone. I go downstairs to find him holding a small dog. He tells me he found the dog in the yard and it has tags. I remark that it kind of looks like the dog from across the street belonging to the Goldsmiths. However, I wasn't sure and the tags didn't say. So I call the number:

Man: Hello?

Me: Did you lose your dog?

Man: Did she get out of the crate again?

Me: Well, I don't know about that, but she is standing in my living room.

I then proceeded to give him my address.

Meanwhile the cats are curious, scared and curious. They are intently staring down the basement stairs. The dog is in the living room.

I look out the window and sure enough there is Mr. Goldsmith wandering down the street in the opposite direction from our house, you know the address I gave him. I yell out and he retrieves his dog and says "she is always getting out." No kidding.

And guess who was out the very next day? I predict another tragedy.

*who names their dog Katie? Really?

**the "bad part of town" is a couple of blocks over across a main road. I dont know if the bad part of town is equally bad for dogs or just people, but I am thinking that I would be a bit more concerned about the main road and cars than possible criminal activity.

What About Kate?

B came in the room the other day and said:

B: Did you hear Kate is coming to town?

Me: Kate who? [envisioning Katie Holmes shooting a movie]

B: Kate Gosselin.

Me: Oh my god. Why do you know this?

B: It is expensive to see her.

Me: Your DVR rights have been revoked. You are on notice.

*I will admit with all of the controversy surrounding the Gosselins and the show lately, I have been tuning in more. Less screaming kids and more drama? Sign me up!

Absurd is the Word

Nothing like being stalked by your boss to start your morning off right. In recent times I have been subjected to the following:

Arriving to find my boss pacing outside my office door.

Arriving to be told he has been looking for me even though the sun is not yet up.

Arriving to find my him just on the other side of the outer door and almost smacking him with it.

And my favorite:

Arriving at work and while walking toward the building, hearing a faint tapping only to lookup and see him waving down at me, smiling like a clown.

My life is a circus and he is the ringleader.

Office Shorts

It's been a while since I posted about the office. Here are some things I have been collecting:

Partner: The milk of human kindness flows through my veins.

Reply by passerby: Yeah, sour milk.

*

After receiving a warning at work not to download the Blackberry operating system update because there were bugs, the following conversation took place:

Girl: Did you get the email about Blackberrys?

Me: Yep. I didn't download it.

Girl: Should I tell other girl?

Me: No. She has an iPhone.

Girl: What's the difference?

Me: It isn't a Blackberry...

*

So you are calling someone in my office and you get my voicemail instead. I say I am out of my office. I do not say I work for the person you are trying to call yet you feel it is appropriate to just continue on with your message anyway..."Yeah, this message is for so and so, this is stupid and here is my phone number. Oh and tell him it is about this...no wait, it is about this. Yeah, tell him it is about that."

Yeah, I'll get right on that.

*

Girl 1: Can you smell that stinky cigarette smoke on her? (Referencing girl that just walked in)

Girl 2: No but I have allergies.

Girl 1: I think it is because you smoke.

Girl 2: What I can't smell stinky things because I smoke?

Girl 1: Exactly.

*

Secretary to person on phone: "Oh what a weave and the web is tangled..."

*

Partner: Did your clock go haywire?

Secretary: I am not late, am I?

Boss: No, you are early

*

What a boss likes to hear:

Boss: What is on your schedule today?

Employee: You, you and you.

Of Clowns, Crisis and Life Medic Bracelets

Yesterday, B informed me that I had failed as the nosy neighbor. ME! Failed!

B: You know, since your office window faces the street, I would expect you to pay a bit more attention as to what is going on down there.

Me: What is going on down there?

B: I don't know...only 2 police cars RIGHT OUTSIDE OUR HOUSE.

And there were. Two police cars, parked the wrong way in front of our house. The policemen, however, were nowhere to be found.

Me: Where are they?

B: I don't know.

Me: What are they doing?

B: Something about an alarm.

Me: Huh. Someone's house alarm has been going off for some time.

That is when my mad observational skills kicked in, way after the fact as usual. I then recalled hearing the faint house alarm for quite some time and being mildly annoyed with it. Apparently not annoyed enough to go to the window to see what was going on. I am a fine neighbor.

However, after B had pointed it out to me, I was ON THE CASE. This meant I went from window to window to figure out what was going on. All I figured out was the neighbor that belonged to the house where the one police car was parked was totally nonplussed and sweeping away at his sidewalk. Truly, not a crisis by any means.

While passing by one of the windows, I noticed the nonplussed neighbor's wife come home. Nonplussed neighbor had gone into his home. First she attempted to pull into her driveway, but since the police car was blocking 3/4 of it, she really couldn't do that. After about 5 minutes of her staring blankly at the cop car, she turned around and parked on the street. She then proceeded to take her HEADPHONES off. Yes, she was wearing a full, huge set of headphones on IN THE CAR. Safety at its finest there. Then after a LONG 10 minutes, she finally got out of the car and made her way up to the house.

Let me review. Wife comes home to find a cop car, parked the wrong way, in front of her house blocking most of her driveway. Her husband is nowhere to be found but the broom and rake he was using are just laying there haphazardly on the ground. Yet, she takes 15 minutes to get into the house? I call that insanity and told B so:

Me: Mrs. Neighbor Lady just arrived home wearing clown makeup...

B: Clown makeup?

Me: Well not really, but she might as well have it was so bright and thick I could see it up here. Anyway, she tried to get into her driveway.

B: How did that work out for her?

Me: Not so well.

In the end, all was well. I saw two policemen leave laughing about a false alarm and another lady neighbor explaining something about a life medic bracelet shorting a house alarm? I am not sure. I stopped listening. As B said, it was way more exciting when we didn't know what was going on.

And I was a heck of a lot happier before I saw the clown.

Clowns scare me.

And to Think, I Was Just Singing a Song...

B just called to share the following story of a crazy car accident he witnessed. Luckily, this time he was not involved. Tell me this does not sound like it came straight out of a movie. In B's words:

I was stopped at an intersection two cars back when all of a sudden two cars crashed horrifically in the intersection. They must have hit full force because the one car went up the sidewalk, nearly hit a guy, hit the traffic signal box, which then almost fell on that same guy who was running away and finally crashed into the paint store. A woman with a bloody head jumps out of the car and screams "MY BABY, MY BABY. MY BABY NEEDS TO GET TO A HOSPITAL." Meanwhile, the other car, having hitting a third car which took off, is still spinning around in the intersection. Well technically it is driving itself in a circle because the driver of the vehicle has fallen out the door.

So I run over to where the lady is screaming about her baby worried that I am going to find a dead infant because I can see that both airbags are blown, but when I look in the car I see a 25 year old guy! I thought "that's no baby" at which point she screamed "MY BABY'S BEEN SHOT!!" Apparently she was on the way to the hospital with her shot son when this occurred.

Meanwhile, the other car is still driving in circles with two cars chasing it because there is a child (a real child) in that car as well. The two guys, however, are trying to run around the car and open the door to the car to get the kid out while the car is still moving. I realize that someone needs to stop the car.

I STOPPED THE CAR! Can you believe I ran over there and got in the car and stopped it? All while calling 911. Of course, it almost ran me over because fluids were leaking out of it and I was slipping. At one point I thought "I am going to get run over by this car, won't that be ironic," but I was able to get in and stop the car. I look back at the kid and he looks at me like "huh." Totally calm.

By this time, the cops have arrived. The guy who was shot couldn't tell them where the shooting occurred and they just put them in their car to take him to the hospital. Then his mother starts yelling YOU ARE GOING THE WRONG WAY because she wanted them to take him to a specific hospital. They elected to go to the nearest one.

As the cops sorted it out, I talked to the guy who had been on the sidewalk and told him I was watching him and worried about him the whole time because I saw the lady almost hit him and then saw the traffic light almost fall on him. He then said to me "I know. I was just standing there singing a song when a car came rushing right at me..."

~~~

When B told me he had a crazy story, I don't think I quite pictured that. I am oh so very relieved he was not involved and that no one was seriously injured. I am also very proud that he was able to stop the unmanned vehicle with child in it. There is definitely more than one hero in my family.

Note: B has requested that I describe him as a "man of action".

There you go.

Strawberries and Freeways Don't Mix

B and I were driving home after having dinner with my family the other night. Well, I was driving home and B was supposed to be giving me directions. Yes, I have lived in this city all my life and yes I drove TO the restaurant, but clearly he should have been paying closer attention. You see, while I was driving I decided to flap/blow my lips kind of like you do when giving someone a strawberry on their belly, but minus the whole other person and belly part. Then I decided that was funny:

Me: That was funny.

B: What?

Me: When I blow my lips like that I can see them flapping up.

B: That is weird.

Me: And my glasses shake.

B: Which probably makes your vision shake.

Me: It does!

[flapping lips again]

B: WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

Me: What do you mean? I am driving.

B: You are getting on the wrong freeway.

Me: Where am I supposed to be?

B: OVER THERE [pointing]

Me: Too late now I guess.

B: Oh great. You are so busy FLAPPING YOUR LIPS we are now going in the completely wrong direction.

Me: You should have told me.

B: I DID tell you.

Me: Um, yeah, after I was already on the wrong freeway.

B: Maybe you would have known if you weren't busy FLAPPING YOUR LIPS! Seriously, WHO DOES THAT??

So we end up going quite a way out of our way to get back home. Half way through I start laughing hysterically remembering B saying "if you weren't so busy flapping your lips" as it was hilarious and meant quite literally in this case.

It then took me a good 10 minutes to stop laughing and explain to B what I found "so damn funny." With tears in my eyes, I tell him. His response?

"REALLY, who DOES that?"

And I started laughing all over again.

Marching to the Beat of My Own Head

The other morning suddenly I heard a big band start playing yet when I opened the window to find the source, it was quiet. I thought nothing of it. I then proceeded to walk downstairs and to my car all the while hearing nothing. However, in the moment right before my car door shut I heard it again. Quickly rolling down my window, I again found silence. By now I was thinking that I was a character on Ally McBeal and maybe big band was my theme song.

Later I shared this news with B:

Me: I think my life is a bad episode of Ally McBeal.

B: why do you say that?

Me: I keep hearing theme music.

B: Huh?

Me: I hear big band music and then it stops. I am trying to figure out what it means.

B: huh?

Me: like in the morning on the way to my car...but when I open the window, I can't hear it...

B: You know there is a nearby high school and it is probably their band practicing.

Me: So early in the morning?

B: Yes. That is when high schoolers practice.

Me: Huh.

Me: DAMN I wanted to be Ally McBeal!