Friday, February 26, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
I'm a Tropical in the Snow
Inglaterra está en caos por la nieve, 7 niños fueron al colegio de la clase donde trabajo y entonces no hicimos nada sino pintar por ende mi interpretación de la nieve en tropical y naturaleza añorada. Disfruten!!!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
The mouse story
As recounted to Cara via email on Oct 19, 2009:
So, last thursday night, I'm at home assembling one of those shower caddies and i drop a small piece. It falls near the fridge so i crouch down to look for it. My eyes scan the floor space under the fridge, and as they reach the crack between the fridge and the wall, what do i see? A mouse. Eyes closed. Immobile. I freak out, start hoping around, contain the urge to curse out loud to no one. I finally calm the fuck down, and peek in the crack again. Its still there. I take a closer look, and notice something else fuzzy in its vicinity, with a brightly colored feather...wtf, no idea what that could be. I spend the next half hour staring directly in that crack. After I tire myself out, I go about my business, but cannot stop myself from looking in every time I walk by. You know, to make sure it wasn't just taking a nap and has come to life or something. Pete arrives. I inform him of this EMERGENCY SITUATION. He peeks in. Tells me he'll move the fridge and remove it. I say no fucking way, thinking this job is best suited for the superintendent. I mean, surely there must be some skill required in the removal of a dead mouse, right? Something to do with sanitizing the area post-removal or something...all I know is if Pete removes the thing I'll have to get involved in some way, like by cleaning up the area where it lay, and I want nothing to do with it. So, friday I get into work and first thing I do is call the super, inform him of the situation, and we agree he'll come first thing saturday morning to take care of it. I get home on friday and I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the mouse. I no longer gag when I see it. I'm actually starting to say hello to mouse when I peek in on my walk-bys. I'm now only considering moving out IF there is ever another one. I'm not happy with mouse, but knowing that it'll get taken care of soon has calmed me, so the evening goes as normal and I sleep like a baby. Saturday morning I am woken up by the doorbell. Mad rush to put some clothes on. Open the door and there is the super with another dude in tow. No idea who. Surely some mouse-removal expert. I let them in and show them the crack of death. The super takes ONE PEEK into the crack and...starts laughing. WTF. "Its a cat toy". WHAT?! NO IT IS NOT. "It's a cat toy." ARGGGGGGH WTF IS THE OTHER FUZZY THING THEN??? "Another cat toy". The super and the surely mouse-removal expert are laughing. At me, not with me. I am blushing, I'm apologizing, I'm in disbelief...partially at my stupidity, and partially at their light-speed assesment. I still expect this thing removed from the crack, whatever it is. They push the fridge over, take out the two furballs, and sure as shit they are both cat toys. In the trash they go. More apologizing, more blushing, super and now cat-toy-removal expert out the door. "I told you it was a cat toy" WHAT? No you did not Pete, you suggested it in passing, but you did not press or prove it. Apparently some cat toy mice have a colorful feather on their tail, that's how he knew....how was I supposed to know? I've never had a cat. And if he was so sure why didn't he just take it out then? Sigh. I can never look my super in the face again.
So, last thursday night, I'm at home assembling one of those shower caddies and i drop a small piece. It falls near the fridge so i crouch down to look for it. My eyes scan the floor space under the fridge, and as they reach the crack between the fridge and the wall, what do i see? A mouse. Eyes closed. Immobile. I freak out, start hoping around, contain the urge to curse out loud to no one. I finally calm the fuck down, and peek in the crack again. Its still there. I take a closer look, and notice something else fuzzy in its vicinity, with a brightly colored feather...wtf, no idea what that could be. I spend the next half hour staring directly in that crack. After I tire myself out, I go about my business, but cannot stop myself from looking in every time I walk by. You know, to make sure it wasn't just taking a nap and has come to life or something. Pete arrives. I inform him of this EMERGENCY SITUATION. He peeks in. Tells me he'll move the fridge and remove it. I say no fucking way, thinking this job is best suited for the superintendent. I mean, surely there must be some skill required in the removal of a dead mouse, right? Something to do with sanitizing the area post-removal or something...all I know is if Pete removes the thing I'll have to get involved in some way, like by cleaning up the area where it lay, and I want nothing to do with it. So, friday I get into work and first thing I do is call the super, inform him of the situation, and we agree he'll come first thing saturday morning to take care of it. I get home on friday and I'm starting to feel more comfortable with the mouse. I no longer gag when I see it. I'm actually starting to say hello to mouse when I peek in on my walk-bys. I'm now only considering moving out IF there is ever another one. I'm not happy with mouse, but knowing that it'll get taken care of soon has calmed me, so the evening goes as normal and I sleep like a baby. Saturday morning I am woken up by the doorbell. Mad rush to put some clothes on. Open the door and there is the super with another dude in tow. No idea who. Surely some mouse-removal expert. I let them in and show them the crack of death. The super takes ONE PEEK into the crack and...starts laughing. WTF. "Its a cat toy". WHAT?! NO IT IS NOT. "It's a cat toy." ARGGGGGGH WTF IS THE OTHER FUZZY THING THEN??? "Another cat toy". The super and the surely mouse-removal expert are laughing. At me, not with me. I am blushing, I'm apologizing, I'm in disbelief...partially at my stupidity, and partially at their light-speed assesment. I still expect this thing removed from the crack, whatever it is. They push the fridge over, take out the two furballs, and sure as shit they are both cat toys. In the trash they go. More apologizing, more blushing, super and now cat-toy-removal expert out the door. "I told you it was a cat toy" WHAT? No you did not Pete, you suggested it in passing, but you did not press or prove it. Apparently some cat toy mice have a colorful feather on their tail, that's how he knew....how was I supposed to know? I've never had a cat. And if he was so sure why didn't he just take it out then? Sigh. I can never look my super in the face again.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
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