another one rides the bus
YOU ARE ALL SPECIAL SNOWFLAKES
Today for my whole commute, both ways, I felt like congratulating people.
Guy who sprinted up the steps and got on the train just before the doors closed: way to go! High five, dude! Come on, don’t leave me hanging!
Woman checking email: kick ass! You figured out all the features of your Blackberry there, huh? Good for you!
At times this got a little difficult: hey old lady, I got to give you props, you really smell like cat pee. Way to…bond with your pets! That takes dedication!
I am like the opposite of a vigilante. I’m The Encourager! You go, Chicago! You keep doing your ordinary stuff!
THE GIVING OF THANKS
Nora has been enthusiastically working on the thank-you notes from her birthday, and she needs a lot less help than last year. Basically I just consult my notebook and remind her which present went with which guest, and she gets out her cat-themed stationery and gets working. I read them over before stuffing and addressing the envelopes, and she even seems to have the format down cold. Salutation. Thank you for the X. Something complimentary about X. Closing, signature. In her hands, however, possibly because of the overuse of exclamation points and underlining, the standard thank-you becomes something that feels a bit sinister.
Dear Peter,
Thank you for the magic kit. I am going to use it!
Love, Nora.
I wish I had been clever enough to adopt this ominous tone way back when I was writing wedding gift thank-you notes.
Dear Aunt Mary,
Thank you for the toaster. I am going to use it! Oh am I ever! I am going to make the shit out of some toast! You don’t even know! It’s going to be out of control! Wait and see! Thanks again!
Love, Mimi.
I am looking at the “thanks for the magic kit” note right now, and she has also drawn herself (in a magician’s hat), her friend, her friend’s mom and dad in bed together (yikes! but they’re just stick figures), a toothbrush (why?), and a “zombi [sic] pac-man eating a brain.” I know this because everything is labeled. Once again, I deeply regret that my wedding thank-yous featured so few zombie pac-men eating brains.
THE APPLE STORE CAN SUCK IT
My iPod has broken itself in a peculiar and unsettling way—it will only play music out of one side of the headphones. Did I figure out that it was the iPod and not the headphones before I went and bought new headphones? No I did not. Google seems to think that I need a new headphone jack and I agree, for I cannot deal with music on just one side of my head. Plus the jack-wiggling (wow, that sounds dirty) and contortions I go through to get double-sided music for even a few minutes are just infuriating.
Apple store estimated about $200, but local cell-phone-repair store with good reviews all over the internet said $75. I think they win! I kind of hope they can get it done before I leave on vacation,* as there is a definite possibility that I may need to use piped-in rock-and-roll to drown out my family at some point during the airplane ride.
*Mexico! Condo on the beach! Other adults (my parents) to supervise the child occasionally! Even more adults (sister and brother-in-law) with whom to do irresponsible things involving tequila! Must stock up on serapes, sombreros, and those crossover chest belts that are full of bullets. Because that and a bathing suit are pretty much all I need.
There will be a hot tub on our condo balcony, which delights Nora to no end.
Nora: Sometimes hotels say, “No kids in the hot tub.” But in Mexico, the hot tub will belong to US! So there are no rules!
LT: Actually, there’s no rules at all in Mexico.
Nora: None?
LT: None. It’s the only country with no laws whatsoever.
Nora: [pause as she thinks deeply about this]
Me [to LT]: Okay, tell her the truth. That’s not nice. Or wise.
—mimi smartypants, locked up abroad.