Whenever we go to Taco Bell, we get the Grande Meal with half bean burritos no onions, and half soft tacos. We also get two combination burritos with no onions, a Mexi-melt, two crunchy tacos, and a chicken quesadilla. And a large Pepsi, because for some reason the Taco Bell near us has the best fountain Pepsi EVER. Sometimes Calvin gets frisky and asks for a tostada. The total always comes to $18.08. You can get an ass-load of food for less than twenty bucks at Taco Bell.
Whenever we order pizza (usually Domino’s), we get a large thin crust with pepperoni, bacon, and beef, one large regular crust with just pepperoni, and one medium vegetarian thin crust. We order the same thing so often that I can call them (I’ve memorized their number) and ask for “the usual”. The total always comes to $38.00. Domino’s is somewhat more expensive than Taco Bell, and yet is still cheap in its resident food category. Plus, they deliver. I refuse to go to Peter Piper Pizza.
Marie has been getting on the scale, and then yelling, “God! I can’t gain weight!” Every time she does this, I want to kill her just a little.
Marie spends most nights at her boyfriend’s house, but we usually see her at some point during the day. During that time, she does a high-speed download of everything she’s thought about, done, or has happened to her. I have a feeling that even when she moves out, we’ll talk every day and get this download. If there is one thing that this family doesn’t have a problem with, it’s communicating.
When the Suns game is on an HD channel, we stay at home and watch it because our TV is like being there. When the Suns game is not on an HD channel, we go to some sports bar and yell at them from there.
Oz is less of a cat, and more of a child, in this household. He has this thing for shredded cheese. Every time… and I mean EVERY time… we get into the fridge he runs over, “speaks” to us, practically climbs into the fridge, paws the drawer that we keep the cheese in as if to say, “It’s in here,” then walks over to this certain spot on the kitchen floor that we have been putting his little cheese piles, and waits patiently until we oblige him.
Oh! Did I tell you guys about this? I forget. Anyway, you know how Oz “kills” his stuffed toy Kanga, and carries it through the house from wherever it was into our bedroom, mrowring and carrying on at the top of his lungs, EVERY night just as we get into bed? Yes, well, one night about a month ago Calvin and I went into the bedroom and got ready for bed. Calvin shut and locked the door that leads into the hallway, so that Oz wouldn’t try to open it during the night (you remember that he can open doors, right? AND turn on lights) and wake us up. He left the door leading into the bathroom cracked, and the pocket door on the opposite side of the bathroom leading into the entry room cracked as well. Got that?So, lights out, we’re all comfy, and we hear Oz from the bowels of the house, his mrowring coming at us louder and louder as he came downstairs (he’d delivered Kanga to Marie’s room during the day), came through the dining room and living room, and padded down the hall toward our bedroom door. He stopped outside the door, tried to lever the door handle down with his paw (a trick he does so many times a day and so well that there’s no more of a pause in the opening of the door than there would be with those of us with opposable thumbs), dropped Kanga (we could tell by the un-muffled quality of his voice), and meaowed a question at us when he found it locked. As if to say, “What the fuck, people. Let me in.” Calvin yelled, “Go around, Oz! The door’s locked!” I teased Calvin for talking to the cat like he could understand us. And then… you know what’s coming next, right? I’ll be damned if that cat didn’t pick Kanga up, go back down the hall, through the dining room and entry room, through the cracked pocket door and through the bathroom into our bedroom, and deposit Kanga triumphantly at the foot of our bed. Calvin and I started cracking up. “He went around!” we gasped at each other. I swear to God, that cat is more of a person than a lot of people I’ve met.
We love our new dishwasher – it actually gets the dishes clean, even when Michael loads it. It is very loud, though.
I have been listening to Fall Out Boys “Infinity on High” a lot this past week. It’s one of the random CD’s of which I enjoy pretty much all of the songs. Plus, how can you go wrong with lyrics like, “I could write it better than you ever felt it.”
A dove has built a nest in the palm tree along our front walk. She’s right at head-height and not really tucked away or hidden at all. So each day we walk by on our way to/from work, getting the mail, what have you, and we say hello. And she looks at us with those liquid eyes and wishes that we would just go away and let her hatch her damn eggs, already. It’s all very Discovery Channel.
Speaking of which, we have been enjoying the hell out of the Planet Earth series on Discovery HD. We’ve also been watching Dresden Files and Raines (which I don’t think is long for this world, as it just got moved from Wednesday night to Friday night). When it begins, we’ll be watching Drive. At some point soon I shall rent the first season of Battlestar Galactica and start watching that, too.
Despite all the TV we watch, we still seem to do a startling amount of other stuff as well. Like, two weekends ago Calvin and I cleared all of the garbage out of the garage.
Calvin is selling Michael his 929 (sport bike), at which point there will be three asses and three motorcycles in the household (Marie’s ass doesn’t count). I think Michael has visions of the three of us going riding around together, but I know I’ll just get left behind because I’ll be obeying the speed limit.
I was supposed to go to Pudong (a district of Shanghai) on a business trip, but the plan got nixed due to budgetary limitations. I was disappointed, I really wanted to get a shot glass to add to my collection. So far I have shot glasses from Maine (natch), Arizona (ditto), Chicago, Hawaii, Ireland, Holland, Canada (Whistler), California, and the Bahamas. I would happily accept any shot glasses that any reader would care to ship from me, from any location on the planet. That was only a little weeny hint.
We go through more Ranch dressing in this household than all families on the planet combined. Salsa holds a close second, followed by Worcestershire, and green Tabasco. Ketchup, usually holding the role of most-consumed condiment in most households, is lucky to make the top five in ours.
I made a bet with Calvin that I wouldn’t read any books between now and when we leave for Maine (at which point it will be mandatory to be able to read, to keep sane during the long-ass flight). I made this bet on March 22nd, and thus far I haven’t picked up one physical book, nor have I opened one e-book. This bet was pretty much spurred by his observance of the loooong list on the sidebar listing the forty books I’ve read since January 1st, and his (subtle!) insinuation that I might actually get a lot of useful things done should I spend my free time elsewhere. I have a lot of books waiting on my dresser and in the LL Bean bag I keep next to my side of the couch, plus a TON awaiting my pleasure on my hard drive. I will never be to the end of the list of books I want to read. And yet, I have survived for
over a week, which I think is a record for me. One thing to note: it strikes me that I didn’t designate any terms of my recompense from Calvin should I win this bet. I am taking suggestions.
Every morning at exactly 8:17 a.m., I have a sneezing fit at work. The admin, who sits across the isle, always yells her blessing. It is as if my spirit cannot move forward into the tasks of the day until this little ritual has been performed. We’ve been laughing about it for weeks, now. Today, I got stuck in traffic behind the clean-up of a large accident. I got out my cell phone and dialed the admin to let her know I was running late. As I left the message on her voicemail, I had to pause, mid-sentence, for a sneezing fit. I laughed, told her the blessing was complete for the day, and hung up. I looked at the time on the cover of my cell – 8:17 a.m. Insert Twilight Zone theme music here.
Calvin is working this week on the south campus of AcronymCo (in other words, the “other campus” that I don’t work at). He keeps running into people he’d worked with at AcronymCo and the company he worked for previous to the one he works for now. He commented today on how small a world his particular industry in, and how AcronymCo hasn’t changed in the nearly nine years its been since he worked there. I have nothing profound to say, here. I just think it’s a little sad. And also, I wish he were working on my campus so we could have lunch in the cafeteria and make fun of the people we know, like we used to. Oh, and make out in the stairwell. Like we used to.