I hate hate hate bugs. So imagine my shock and horror when I walked into my bedroom and there on the floor was a crusty creature as big as a lobster. Yes, I swear it was a lobster size insect. I screamed. It lay there. I ran around in a circle not knowing what to do. "Oh my God, oh my God" was all I could choke out as I spun around. I called frantically for my trusty Yellow Lab "Potato" and his mighty Australian Shephard sidekick "Wiggie" for back-up. Surely one of my furry boys would go after the giant bug and save the day. "Wiggie, get 'em boy." Nothing. He took a sniff and left the room. I thought I could appeal to Potatoe's love of anything edible. "Go Potato go, he looks yummy. " The dog would eat toxic waste yet could not work up an appetite for my uninvited guest. I was cursed, totally grossed out and started to feel itchy. But ah ha I had one last weapon in my animal arsenal...the cat! "Missie come quick I need your feline ferocity." She stared at me and walked the other way.
What was I to do? Should I kill it or name it? I had to get in my room to sleep. I thought about just packing up and moving. My blood pressure was dropping rapidly yet knew I had to act. It's lobster creature or me. Which briefly reminded me of the scene in "Annie Hall" when the lobster got lose on the kitchen floor but that was funnier. This felt more like "High Noon." (If anyone reading is an insect hugger stop reading now. )
I was barefoot. I needed a weapon. A baseball bat would have been perfect or musket but no such luck, just a shoe was available. It was me and the shoe poised to act. I didn't know if my cute Kate Spade open toed sandal could crush the creature in one blow and I was right....it couldn't. Arghhhh. It got ugly and quite messy but I perservered. I had a crime scene on my hands. Yes, I probably watch too much TV as I envisioned the police taping around the body and asking for witnesses. I think the cat would squeel and send me off in an orange jump suit.
As I threw out the untidy remains I sadly realized I would never be able to eat lobster again.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Outsmarted by My Phone
I confess, my new smart phone is smarter than I am. Yep, it's true, no contest. Hands down the phone wins. It doesn't matter that I went to college , was an English major and read a lot of books - no siree, symbolism, metaphors, similes, allegory have nothin' on my new shiny Galaxy s5. It doesn't care that Moby Dick wasn't just a whale or poor Hester Prinn had to wear a scarlet letter or whether or not it was "the best or worst of times" nope the horrid little machine has made a mockery of me . My brain is full of the wrong information. And all these years I thought I was smart. I'm so over.
Admittedly the pressure to posses a smart phone became too great. I was laughed at by my peer group and even children under 12 because I didn't have one. I began to feel unpopular which reminded me I wasn't picked for the cheerleading squad in high school although years of therapy helped. Truthfully I was happy with my not-so-smart phone. It had a keyboard that was like a typewriter not the surface of a skating rink like my new device. My typing skills are useless as I miss every letter and have now resigned myself to the new spelling of my name - "Fsuj." I have yet to figure out how to answer the phone and simply stare at it when it rings. As for all the pictures I planned on taking and sending to friends and family - not happening. I saw myself in the view finder by mistake and needed a Valium. I can "swipe" the screen and find technological happiness according to the critics. Who are these people and shouldn't they get out more?
I have one more day to decide the fate of my Galaxy s5 and whether or not we have a future. Tomorrow is the return deadline. The folks at the Verizon store hide shaking in the back when they see me, as I now spend all my free time there begging for help and counseling. I feel like the techno Hamlet - "To return or not to return?" I believe my friend Gregg has a Vegas line going on the fate of the phone. Call me asap if you think you can help...but then again I don't know how to pick up.
Admittedly the pressure to posses a smart phone became too great. I was laughed at by my peer group and even children under 12 because I didn't have one. I began to feel unpopular which reminded me I wasn't picked for the cheerleading squad in high school although years of therapy helped. Truthfully I was happy with my not-so-smart phone. It had a keyboard that was like a typewriter not the surface of a skating rink like my new device. My typing skills are useless as I miss every letter and have now resigned myself to the new spelling of my name - "Fsuj." I have yet to figure out how to answer the phone and simply stare at it when it rings. As for all the pictures I planned on taking and sending to friends and family - not happening. I saw myself in the view finder by mistake and needed a Valium. I can "swipe" the screen and find technological happiness according to the critics. Who are these people and shouldn't they get out more?
I have one more day to decide the fate of my Galaxy s5 and whether or not we have a future. Tomorrow is the return deadline. The folks at the Verizon store hide shaking in the back when they see me, as I now spend all my free time there begging for help and counseling. I feel like the techno Hamlet - "To return or not to return?" I believe my friend Gregg has a Vegas line going on the fate of the phone. Call me asap if you think you can help...but then again I don't know how to pick up.
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