This weekend was kind of discombobulating. It snowed here on Friday night, which always throws the Seattle world off its axis. We went out on that night, and for some reason I decided to wear open-toed heels. I think I was in denial or something. But I did pretty well, and didn’t fall down any holes. One nice thing about patent leather and tights is that they dry when you get where you’re going really quickly.
I am convinced that I am getting dumber now as I get older. Ten years ago I was in bed by nine most nights and did sensible things like staying out of the sun. My apex was probably about twenty-three. Goodbye, brain! I’ll miss you as I limp towards this grave.
We went to this sushi restaurant I had never heard of though it is blocks from my house, and we were feeling indecisive about what to order at first. Companion just ordered miso and the waitress chastised us as she walked off: “Bo-ring.” Her devil-may-care attitude toward customer service did not make the monkfish liver less delicious later.
Then on Saturday we were at the hoity-toity natural foods grocery store, where my feral dwarf was demanding a corn dog. Most of the time we shop at Plebe Ranch, where she can get a chicken corndog (NOW WITH 17% MORE BEEF ANUSES) or some jo-jos while we shop.
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey, this place is too healthy to have corndogs,” I said.
“It’s not really about healthy,” the barista behind the counter snotted. “It’s more like, things like corndogs have preservatives and nitrates, and we tend not to carry things like that.”
ORLY? Processed dog product has preservatives and nitrates? You could have knocked me over with a feather, etc. So you’re saying that they’re UNHEALTHY, then?
I wanted to free his coworker, who looked very tolerant of him as he smarmed at her regarding his serious learnings about the failings of the Catholic church.
I am one of the least religious people I know, but sometimes I get really tired of all the smug atheism around this joint. Which is weird, because I was raised surrounded by smug Christians. I guess what I want now is ironical smugness.
I forgot to tell you, a couple of weeks ago I brought home a hamster. I had been thinking about it for a couple of months, and decided to go for it. I know it’s nothing earth-shattering, but it’s pretty fun. I have declared him “my” hamster so there is minimal fighting. Franny decided on the name “Ragweed” for him out of a children’s book that we like by Avi.
He’s pretty normal, and will have a lot to live up to to top Monkeyhip’s legacy, but he does have one little quirk. I have him set up next to my computer in the kitchen, so he is very aware of food smells and cooking, moreso than any other hamster I have ever had. If I munch late at night while looking at ONTD, then he sits and stares raptly at me, like a dog. I had to fork over one almond and he munched it for a while until he was ready to get back to his hamster business, such as his investments and Fantasy Football scores. A couple of nights ago he held the bars and stared until I felt his beadly little eyes drilling tiny, ineffectual holes into the back of my head. I turned around and gave him a cilantro leaf and his eyes went all slitty. I think he was remembering his time in Mexico.
I, Hamster Slave.