My Memorial Day weekend was basically uneventful.
Aside from the fact that meteorologists miscalculated for a change, and instead of cool and breezy we had warm and pretty muggy weekend, I had a nice Shabat, spruced up by another visit from Mini Me and her Mommy.
On Sunday we finally made it to "pak" on "tchu tchu" train. To Papi's everlasting delight, it turns out that now the newly renovated "pak" station is fully accessible. Hurray! Maybe I will try and persuade Mini Not Me to come with us as well (or rather, hope that he will last without Mommy for more than half an hour). Either way, G-d help me!; even though I am really looking forward to it. Our time in the "pak" was delightful as usual, but unfortunately cut a bit short by the rain. Also, since our last visit, Mini Me seemed to adopt one of her parents' idiosyncrasies, and refused to go on the grass barefoot. Pity! On top of that, she almost lost her Tigger from her adorable yellow croc; to which I suggested relocating Tigger to my bag, and solemnly promised her to watch for him till we get home. She kept checking to make sure I actually do have him, but forgot to claim Tigger at home. So, I still got him in my bag; and I just gaze at him with a warm fuzzy feeling in my heart.
Then, on Monday, it was the beginning of a long and torturous process of cleaning my apartment (punctuated by some dopey TV re-runs). As I said, pretty uneventful.
There were ad for sales everywhere I turned my head. I even got an e-mail from some kind of adult toy company about their special for Memorial Day. A lot of people were enjoying barbeques, long weekends, extra sale opportunities, and fine weather. Memorial Day is also an official start of the air-conditioning season. What travesty!
My neighborhood is noted for precious few flags displayed on private houses. Is it because it is mainly populated by minorities, immigrants, illegals, and "extra religious" people? Mind you, all of them enjoy the blessings offered by this country (legally or not), but none of them are willing to acknowledge it. At best, they are oblivious; at worst, they are disgustingly hostile and hateful. My favorite expression "ungrateful swine" readily comes to mind.
I wanted to get a T-shirt that reads "Home of the Free because of the Brave"; naturally, with my organizational skills, it will materialize on Veteran's day. But the sentiment is in my heart.
So, here is to all the American brave who have fallen in the fight for freedom; for them the antiquated notions of bravery, honor and patriotism were not just empty and meaningless words. This survivor of Communist hell and grateful American patriot salutes you!
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
WEEKEND UPDATE
Editor's note: this post was originally slated to appear on May 18. Due to the circumstances beyond my control (as in I actually had to work) it appears today instead.
OK, here is another weekend update.
My weekend tale started Friday night at the house of the friend where I usually get into "discussions". This time she had over "family friends" whom I met before, and who got themselves imprinted on my memory due to the extreme chutzpah displayed by their "baby". Anyway, I was determined to keep my tongue firmly behind my teeth or occupied with food only.
That resolution lasted till the conversation topic veered in the general direction of education, at which point the matriarch of the family uttered the brilliant phrase about math not being necessary for the general education since "you hardly use it anyway"; and about two minutes later history was relegated to the same pile. At which point my tongue could not taste the soup in peace and decided to speak in defense of math (forget about history) to the tune of it being beneficial to the occasional exercise of your brains. Yea, right! That opinion, though seconded by our hostess, still remained in minority. Few minutes later Pater familias enquired about my present occupation; upon hearing that I work as an office manager in an architectural firm, his wife promptly proclaimed that that is the reason why I think math is necessary! I just clarified that my job is purely administrative, and has nothing to do with architecture, but that did not really deter her; few minutes later the conversation progressed to makeup. Oy, gevalt! Who was it that claimed that we are the smartest nation?
Next day, Mini Me was full of anticipation: she had a play date with one of her friends from playgroup. She was feeling very grown up, and even expressed the desire to have cholent (in her mind it was: have meal=eat cholent, then go to her friend). The let down came way before dessert: friend's father knocked on the door with the deflating news that the friend had fever, and could not possibly receive guests. Poor Mini Me! So, as a consolation, I offered her visit to George. The said invitation was graciously accepted, and Golden Delicious spent a part of the afternoon in my humble abode visiting with George and exploring the fascinating world of my strange possessions.
On Sunday, plans to have an outing on "chu chu train with single stroller" somehow ended up cancelled, partly due to the inclement weather, and partly due to Mini Not Me being extra cranky. So, both sets of delicious checks and their owners were packed up into the double stroller and we departed on an exciting expedition to a wonderful place called Dunkin Donuts.
On the way there we spotted a lot of trees, cars, beautiful flowers in different patterns, and different birdies. Once there, I was obliged to buy them their favorite donuts: chocolate frosted with sprinkles (blech). Mini Me, for reasons known only to her, decided that on that particular day she wanted pink, not chocolate, frosted with sprinkles; the arrival of a large group of new costumers deflected her from that particular thought, thank G-d.
Anyway, after about fifteen minutes at DD, the combined influences of consumed sugar and some forced inactivity on the way there produced extra lively behavior on the part of the Gnomes. Of course, the one person in the entire store to give them repeated dirty looks had to be another religious Jewish woman. What gives?
After exiting the store, I offered an excursion of the exiting South Brooklyn; which offer was met with very enthusiastic approval. So, up the Flatbush Avenue we went. On the way we saw couple of very "interesting" stores (oh, to be young again); one store, however, was interesting to me: it advertised itself as psychic shop, but was definitely a voodoo store. The stuff you find in your neighborhood!
Finally, we came to a big shiny store (known to adults at Target). Munchkins immediately spotted the soda fountain, so I had to deflect their attention somehow, and offered them iced tea. "Are you guys OK with one cup and two straws?" "Yes, Papi; yes, Papi; we want two cups and two straws." So, two cups it was. Of course, while I was waiting for them, Mini Not Me succumbed to Morpheus. Mini Me, after having two sips from her cup and observing for a bit through the floor to ceiling glass the fauna of the neighborhood, graciously agreed to take a tour of the store.
The said tour began with a "toilet that was flushing by itself!” Then we progressed to ladies accessories, where Golden Delicious had a blast trying on hats and sunglasses, and checking out handbags and wallets.
After a considerable chunk of time spent of those exercises, we went to the next level. There, Mini Me selected two sets of dishes (for her and her little brother), after which she had a great time trying on all different kinds of kid furniture for size. She even wanted to check out a dresser, at which point I had to disappoint her by pointing out that I cannot possibly plunk it down from the top shelf. She took it in stride, and decided to borrow my camera instead. Later, while I was reviewing the shots she took, I realized that she actually put some artistic thought into it. She took pictures of: her sleeping brother, her empty place in the stroller occupied by her set of dishes, the chair she was eyeing with intent to buy it with her brother's set of dishes in it, and Papi (the most flattering part of her).
During these activities Mini Not Me woke up. So, the final part of the tour was conducted for the benefit of both of the Gnomes, with the end purchase of: a Princess Coloring book with paints, Elmo sticker book, a cute set for baking cupcakes, and I honestly do not recall what else. Mini Not Me was not being extremely discriminating and basically expressed a desire to acquire about half of the toy department. Mini Me, on the other hand, had her heart set on a beautiful doll house, completed with dolls and furniture. I had to solemnly swear that as soon as I get a better paying job, I am coming back and buying her that doll house. She promptly agreed to that, and then refused to budge anyway. So, the cupcake set was actually her graciously accepted consolation prize.
After returning home, she proudly showed Mama all the purchases, after which she made her royal decision to dedicate the new dishes to "burgers and hot dogs" meals as opposed to "cheese" meals. And after that she proceeded to make cupcakes for all the known to her members of the family, present of absent.
OK, here is another weekend update.
My weekend tale started Friday night at the house of the friend where I usually get into "discussions". This time she had over "family friends" whom I met before, and who got themselves imprinted on my memory due to the extreme chutzpah displayed by their "baby". Anyway, I was determined to keep my tongue firmly behind my teeth or occupied with food only.
That resolution lasted till the conversation topic veered in the general direction of education, at which point the matriarch of the family uttered the brilliant phrase about math not being necessary for the general education since "you hardly use it anyway"; and about two minutes later history was relegated to the same pile. At which point my tongue could not taste the soup in peace and decided to speak in defense of math (forget about history) to the tune of it being beneficial to the occasional exercise of your brains. Yea, right! That opinion, though seconded by our hostess, still remained in minority. Few minutes later Pater familias enquired about my present occupation; upon hearing that I work as an office manager in an architectural firm, his wife promptly proclaimed that that is the reason why I think math is necessary! I just clarified that my job is purely administrative, and has nothing to do with architecture, but that did not really deter her; few minutes later the conversation progressed to makeup. Oy, gevalt! Who was it that claimed that we are the smartest nation?
Next day, Mini Me was full of anticipation: she had a play date with one of her friends from playgroup. She was feeling very grown up, and even expressed the desire to have cholent (in her mind it was: have meal=eat cholent, then go to her friend). The let down came way before dessert: friend's father knocked on the door with the deflating news that the friend had fever, and could not possibly receive guests. Poor Mini Me! So, as a consolation, I offered her visit to George. The said invitation was graciously accepted, and Golden Delicious spent a part of the afternoon in my humble abode visiting with George and exploring the fascinating world of my strange possessions.
On Sunday, plans to have an outing on "chu chu train with single stroller" somehow ended up cancelled, partly due to the inclement weather, and partly due to Mini Not Me being extra cranky. So, both sets of delicious checks and their owners were packed up into the double stroller and we departed on an exciting expedition to a wonderful place called Dunkin Donuts.
On the way there we spotted a lot of trees, cars, beautiful flowers in different patterns, and different birdies. Once there, I was obliged to buy them their favorite donuts: chocolate frosted with sprinkles (blech). Mini Me, for reasons known only to her, decided that on that particular day she wanted pink, not chocolate, frosted with sprinkles; the arrival of a large group of new costumers deflected her from that particular thought, thank G-d.
Anyway, after about fifteen minutes at DD, the combined influences of consumed sugar and some forced inactivity on the way there produced extra lively behavior on the part of the Gnomes. Of course, the one person in the entire store to give them repeated dirty looks had to be another religious Jewish woman. What gives?
After exiting the store, I offered an excursion of the exiting South Brooklyn; which offer was met with very enthusiastic approval. So, up the Flatbush Avenue we went. On the way we saw couple of very "interesting" stores (oh, to be young again); one store, however, was interesting to me: it advertised itself as psychic shop, but was definitely a voodoo store. The stuff you find in your neighborhood!
Finally, we came to a big shiny store (known to adults at Target). Munchkins immediately spotted the soda fountain, so I had to deflect their attention somehow, and offered them iced tea. "Are you guys OK with one cup and two straws?" "Yes, Papi; yes, Papi; we want two cups and two straws." So, two cups it was. Of course, while I was waiting for them, Mini Not Me succumbed to Morpheus. Mini Me, after having two sips from her cup and observing for a bit through the floor to ceiling glass the fauna of the neighborhood, graciously agreed to take a tour of the store.
The said tour began with a "toilet that was flushing by itself!” Then we progressed to ladies accessories, where Golden Delicious had a blast trying on hats and sunglasses, and checking out handbags and wallets.
After a considerable chunk of time spent of those exercises, we went to the next level. There, Mini Me selected two sets of dishes (for her and her little brother), after which she had a great time trying on all different kinds of kid furniture for size. She even wanted to check out a dresser, at which point I had to disappoint her by pointing out that I cannot possibly plunk it down from the top shelf. She took it in stride, and decided to borrow my camera instead. Later, while I was reviewing the shots she took, I realized that she actually put some artistic thought into it. She took pictures of: her sleeping brother, her empty place in the stroller occupied by her set of dishes, the chair she was eyeing with intent to buy it with her brother's set of dishes in it, and Papi (the most flattering part of her).
During these activities Mini Not Me woke up. So, the final part of the tour was conducted for the benefit of both of the Gnomes, with the end purchase of: a Princess Coloring book with paints, Elmo sticker book, a cute set for baking cupcakes, and I honestly do not recall what else. Mini Not Me was not being extremely discriminating and basically expressed a desire to acquire about half of the toy department. Mini Me, on the other hand, had her heart set on a beautiful doll house, completed with dolls and furniture. I had to solemnly swear that as soon as I get a better paying job, I am coming back and buying her that doll house. She promptly agreed to that, and then refused to budge anyway. So, the cupcake set was actually her graciously accepted consolation prize.
After returning home, she proudly showed Mama all the purchases, after which she made her royal decision to dedicate the new dishes to "burgers and hot dogs" meals as opposed to "cheese" meals. And after that she proceeded to make cupcakes for all the known to her members of the family, present of absent.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Thursday, May 21, 2009
THANK YOU, HEAVENLY FATHER!
Thank you for watching over us!
As you know, four black Muslims (surprise of surprises) were arrested for planning to blow up two synagogues in Riverdale and to shoot military planes at the New York Air National Guard base at Stewart Airport in Newburgh with Stinger surface-to-air guided missiles. Basically, to use their own words, they "wanted to do something to America" - and the Jews, of course.
The propaganda machine, otherwise known as the media, and the cowardly, corrupt, and dumb politicians are already hard at work trying to downplay the whole thing. Headlines do not blare about Muslims and blacks, just "four men" or "four suspects". They are quick to emphasize and reiterate that those four are not really connected to any organization, were under observation for a year, therefor presented no real danger, and, most importantly, they are not very bright (yea, as opposed to Mohammed Atta, who had an IQ of 175 and was a long time Mensa member). As usual, am I very disgusted, but not surprised.
And, most importantly, right now I really do not care about those gutless bastards. I am just very grateful to Him.
As you know, four black Muslims (surprise of surprises) were arrested for planning to blow up two synagogues in Riverdale and to shoot military planes at the New York Air National Guard base at Stewart Airport in Newburgh with Stinger surface-to-air guided missiles. Basically, to use their own words, they "wanted to do something to America" - and the Jews, of course.
The propaganda machine, otherwise known as the media, and the cowardly, corrupt, and dumb politicians are already hard at work trying to downplay the whole thing. Headlines do not blare about Muslims and blacks, just "four men" or "four suspects". They are quick to emphasize and reiterate that those four are not really connected to any organization, were under observation for a year, therefor presented no real danger, and, most importantly, they are not very bright (yea, as opposed to Mohammed Atta, who had an IQ of 175 and was a long time Mensa member). As usual, am I very disgusted, but not surprised.
And, most importantly, right now I really do not care about those gutless bastards. I am just very grateful to Him.
Friday, May 15, 2009
STRANGE THOUGHT
Recently, Retired General Colin Powell decided to get up and offer some unsolicited political advice.
Since the respected retired warrior showed his true colors a long time ago (at least to me), I tried to basically ignore his latest rant. But there was one vignette that caught my attention.
He blobbed something to the tune that somebody (I do not remember precisely if it were conservatives, or GOP, or some other related entity) should realized that Americans want more government control in their lives, not less.
With all due respect and admiration, general, people who do not or cannot control their lives (or, at least the overwhelming majority of aspects in their lives) are not free people. They are slaves. Believe me, I know! That is one of the many lessons offered to us by The Old Testament in relation to the Exodus from Egypt and subsequent events. And that is also one constant I observed in many people from step-mother country.
Just something to mull over in your time free from endorsing the enemies of this country, general.
Since the respected retired warrior showed his true colors a long time ago (at least to me), I tried to basically ignore his latest rant. But there was one vignette that caught my attention.
He blobbed something to the tune that somebody (I do not remember precisely if it were conservatives, or GOP, or some other related entity) should realized that Americans want more government control in their lives, not less.
With all due respect and admiration, general, people who do not or cannot control their lives (or, at least the overwhelming majority of aspects in their lives) are not free people. They are slaves. Believe me, I know! That is one of the many lessons offered to us by The Old Testament in relation to the Exodus from Egypt and subsequent events. And that is also one constant I observed in many people from step-mother country.
Just something to mull over in your time free from endorsing the enemies of this country, general.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Babylon 5: End of the Third Season
One of the best parts of the whole series, in my opinion. How come warriors like Sheridan only get crazy fans if they appear in science fiction?
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
NEWS (BREAKING AND OTHERWISE)
I love opening the Internet with my first cup of coffee and perusing the headlines offered by MSM or Yahoo. It is especially entertaining on Monday mornings. Yesterday was no exception.
For starters, some entity or other, very influential and informed, published a list of ten countries whose occupants were the happiest. Unsurprisingly, USA did not make the list.
Hum, let's see. The productive part of us works pretty hard (hardest in the world, by the way). After that, three branches of government confiscate a nice chunk of it (from 25% to infinity) in order to support their own bloated apparatuses, all manner of deadbeats (homegrown and imported), around twenty millions of illegals and their progeny, unwashed hippies masquerading as intellectuals and college professors, hardened criminals on death row who bleat to all and sundry about the social injustice done to them, blood-thirsty thugs from UN, and all kind of other assorted ungrateful swine on our soil and around the world. If we protest this highway robbery, we are locked up in the federal pen (together with the above-mentioned murderers). Lately, we also managed to accumulate enough psychos and idiots masquerading as registered voters to end up with the Executive and Legislative branches we have today. We are dubbed "The Great Satan" by the most blood-thirsty mass murderers alive today. Anything to smile about? For me personally, and I am sure for millions of my fellow Americans, the fact that we are Americans is in itself a blessing. With G-d's help and blessing, we will overcome the above-mentioned menace as well.
Another bit of news: Miss California may lose her crown due to (insert the list of assorted nonsense). The truth is: she dared to speak against one of liberals' holy cows; which opened a floodgate of the vicious attacks by those self-described defenders of human rights. Burt Prelutsky, being his usual blunt self, added a great vignette to this: she is white, blond and blue-eyed. If she was black, her statement would not have been such an issue. As of "press time", Donald, for whatever reasons, deemed Carrie Prejean worthy of her title. The said piece of news makes me rejoice to no end: not as a fan of Miss America pageant, but as an American citizen.
The other piece of news from last week was not breaking, judging by the way it was covered (or, rather, not covered) by the kissers of Obama's behind (otherwise known as the media). Somewhere in the depths of the State of Louisiana an American citizen was stopped on the road by the police and detained for half an hour on suspicion of being a right-wing extremist. His horrible crime? A pro-Constitutional bumper sticker, O Horror Of Horrors! The witch hunt is officially on!
Lastly, His Holiness decided to visit the Holy Land and utter His Esteemed Opinion to the tune of there would be no peace in the Middle East if we do not have a Palestinian State (on the land currently belonging to Israel, aka The Little Satan, of course).
Previously, I already offered my opinion in regards to the utter cowardice and stupidity displayed by the heads of the Catholic Church. Allow me to re-iterate some pertinent points. One: how about first you guys clean your own house, which at the present is infiltrated with homosexuals, pedophiles, and homosexual pedophiles. Two: show some self-respect. Half-Kenyan, half-Muslim bastard agrees to speak at Georgetown only after all the references to what you call The Son are covered, and you do not boo. Self-same bastard, who claims that is it above his pay grade to save unwanted children who miraculously survived abortion (and if I am not mistaken, abortion is a serious abomination in your estimation) is invited to speak at Notre Dame; your simple flock is protesting (vehemently); the heads of Notre Dame (and their superiors) do not boo. I am not even starting about the religion of peace, from whose members' behinds your heads are due to be extracted surgically. Three: if you attack fiction books, at least read them first: in my humble opinion the biggest threat to you comes not from Dan Brown, never mind Harry Potter. The biggest threat comes from Philip Pullman, and he himself was surprised at how little he was picked on. Finally, contaminate your souls a bit and read Harry Potter. It will teach you the beauty of standing up to your convictions no matter the personal cost, and the bravery and the purity of soul necessary in order to fight and defeat the True Evil.
For starters, some entity or other, very influential and informed, published a list of ten countries whose occupants were the happiest. Unsurprisingly, USA did not make the list.
Hum, let's see. The productive part of us works pretty hard (hardest in the world, by the way). After that, three branches of government confiscate a nice chunk of it (from 25% to infinity) in order to support their own bloated apparatuses, all manner of deadbeats (homegrown and imported), around twenty millions of illegals and their progeny, unwashed hippies masquerading as intellectuals and college professors, hardened criminals on death row who bleat to all and sundry about the social injustice done to them, blood-thirsty thugs from UN, and all kind of other assorted ungrateful swine on our soil and around the world. If we protest this highway robbery, we are locked up in the federal pen (together with the above-mentioned murderers). Lately, we also managed to accumulate enough psychos and idiots masquerading as registered voters to end up with the Executive and Legislative branches we have today. We are dubbed "The Great Satan" by the most blood-thirsty mass murderers alive today. Anything to smile about? For me personally, and I am sure for millions of my fellow Americans, the fact that we are Americans is in itself a blessing. With G-d's help and blessing, we will overcome the above-mentioned menace as well.
Another bit of news: Miss California may lose her crown due to (insert the list of assorted nonsense). The truth is: she dared to speak against one of liberals' holy cows; which opened a floodgate of the vicious attacks by those self-described defenders of human rights. Burt Prelutsky, being his usual blunt self, added a great vignette to this: she is white, blond and blue-eyed. If she was black, her statement would not have been such an issue. As of "press time", Donald, for whatever reasons, deemed Carrie Prejean worthy of her title. The said piece of news makes me rejoice to no end: not as a fan of Miss America pageant, but as an American citizen.
The other piece of news from last week was not breaking, judging by the way it was covered (or, rather, not covered) by the kissers of Obama's behind (otherwise known as the media). Somewhere in the depths of the State of Louisiana an American citizen was stopped on the road by the police and detained for half an hour on suspicion of being a right-wing extremist. His horrible crime? A pro-Constitutional bumper sticker, O Horror Of Horrors! The witch hunt is officially on!
Lastly, His Holiness decided to visit the Holy Land and utter His Esteemed Opinion to the tune of there would be no peace in the Middle East if we do not have a Palestinian State (on the land currently belonging to Israel, aka The Little Satan, of course).
Previously, I already offered my opinion in regards to the utter cowardice and stupidity displayed by the heads of the Catholic Church. Allow me to re-iterate some pertinent points. One: how about first you guys clean your own house, which at the present is infiltrated with homosexuals, pedophiles, and homosexual pedophiles. Two: show some self-respect. Half-Kenyan, half-Muslim bastard agrees to speak at Georgetown only after all the references to what you call The Son are covered, and you do not boo. Self-same bastard, who claims that is it above his pay grade to save unwanted children who miraculously survived abortion (and if I am not mistaken, abortion is a serious abomination in your estimation) is invited to speak at Notre Dame; your simple flock is protesting (vehemently); the heads of Notre Dame (and their superiors) do not boo. I am not even starting about the religion of peace, from whose members' behinds your heads are due to be extracted surgically. Three: if you attack fiction books, at least read them first: in my humble opinion the biggest threat to you comes not from Dan Brown, never mind Harry Potter. The biggest threat comes from Philip Pullman, and he himself was surprised at how little he was picked on. Finally, contaminate your souls a bit and read Harry Potter. It will teach you the beauty of standing up to your convictions no matter the personal cost, and the bravery and the purity of soul necessary in order to fight and defeat the True Evil.
WEEKEND UPDATE
Finally, our fair, smelly, and overcrowded city was blessed with a gorgeous spring weekend! So, yours truly was finally able to fulfill the many requests of Golden Delicious, and take her out on an outing "on tshu tshu train in a single stroller".
Sunday being The Mother's Day, sibling and munchkins went to visit Yummy (Grandma) and give her "balun" and flowers (and straighten out her apartment a bit). So, Papi was dispatched to chateau de soeur to prepare for the big event. Apparently, Mini Me was really fired up about our proposed trip already, because she kept postulating about trains, Papis, and single strollers. Mini Not Me, being a perfect sponge, also expressed a burning desire of taking a trip on the chu chu. Mini Me, with all the authority of the older, therefor more informed, sibling told Mini Not Me in no uncertain terms that Papi is taking the single stroller, and there is simply no room for him.
In the end, when we were saying our good buys, Mini Not Me got upset, which made me upset also. In my defense I can only say that I am sure he was just parroting his big sister, and would have been loudly demanding "Mommy" about five minutes into the train ride. I actually came up with a plan for the next Sunday. I will take my neffie pooh first, walk to the subway, take a train, and ride to the next accessible station; at which point I can get off, board the train going in the opposite direction, and deliver him safely to Mommy. Hope it works!
Here are the highlights of our trip:
Mini Me succumbed to Morpheus on the way there, despite very serious assurances of her not being tired (our standard family trait).
We visited the new shopping mall at Columbus Circle, where a statue of a very tall and very fat naked man attracted her attention. "It is so funny, Papi!" As usual, she showed an impeccable taste and succinct way of expressing herself.
We took a walk along the Central Park South, where we encountered many, many horseys, some of them with pom poms on their heads; the source of strange stink was also explained as "horsey poopy".
Papi, being an eternal optimist, decided to check if we can go to the Central Park Zoo on Mother's Day (which also happened to be the first decent spring Sunday) without waiting too much on line. All I can say is: Thank G-d Mini Me did not figure out what was happening; and, needless to say, that activity was scratched off the list.
We obtained a cute balloon from a group of Russian musicians (whom I met last fall), who moonlight (or is it sunlight) as the kiddy entertainers in Central Park. I was not recognized, and got one of the best compliments ("I would never have pegged you as a Russian-speaking").
We also made a little round around the duck pond and saw duckys and turtles. Unfortunately, due to the fact that ALL the lawns around the pond had the "newly seeded" enclosures around them; and I did not feel like setting a bad example and breaking the rule ( like a lot of people appeared to be), the pond lost its appeal pretty quickly, and we had to move on.
Mini Me, for reasons known only to her, appointed yours truly her Official Balloon Carrier (aside from her Official Stroller Pusher). Unfortunately, on the way to our next destination, half of the balloon did not survive (for which I am blaming passing smokers).
Next stop was Dylan's Candy Shop (sorry, Candy Bar). This place is very dear to our hearts, because it witnessed her first independent steps! Anyway, I was not there for over a year; it looks like they have renovated in that time and became a three-(instead of two-) floor establishment. They have really great decor, which includs stairs made to look like globs of something see-thorough with all different kind of candy stuck in it. Unfortunately, great decor did not include the elevator. Go figure!
The main battle in Dylan's was to persuade Mini Me that not all sweets displayed were kosher; the lesser battle was to persuade her that she does not need a stuffed bunny for $20. My sweet girl eventually put the bunny back and allowed for kosher substitutions. We also got a big bag of Jelly Bellies for Mommy for Mommy's Day; I was pointing at the jars and explaining the flavors, and she was telling me if, in her august opinion, that particular flavor and color was worth it. She also got a smaller bag for her brother. After that we visited the cafe (very sunny and brightly decorated), where I was obliged to purchase her an over-priced Coke. At least half of that Coke miraculously came back to the chateau, where it elicited my sister’s suspicious glance and an even more suspicious question of “what precisely it this?” While in the cafe, Mini Me sampled everything we bought, making wise suggestions as to whatever or not her younger brother would be able to eat it, due to his as yet not full complement of teeth.
Next stop was the Disney Store, where I was obliged by my word of honor to purchase a "horsey" (otherwise known as Princess Carriage with Horses decorated in the revolting shade of pink). Why I was obliged to give my word of honor will remain a secret.
In between our stops, we walked for quite a while (or rather I was walking and pushing Mini Me in the stroller). During our travels we observed goodly amount of "goggies", babies, "baluns", fountains, and funny sculptures. We also saw a store with Kalla Dresses and another store with funny chandelier, and yet another store with very old furniture. OK, we were walking along Madison and Park avenues; but I love the way all those stuffy designer and other establishments were reduced to such simple descriptions.
Papi was also reminded, rather forcefully, that she is a bit out of shape (G-d willing, gym membership is coming as soon as certain aspects of personal life are resolved next month).
On the way back I decided to dispense with good manners (please forgive me, Mom and Dad), and simply barrel my way though the subway car towards the seat, in order to avoid having to apologize to Mini Me's parents again for cursing in front of their impressionable child. Once we arrived at our destination, three black women (without any signs of wheelchairs, canes, or strollers), pushed ahead of me into the elevator. I was not able to outmaneuver this unholy trinity because I felt bad for another woman with the stroller, who came the elevator ahead of me, and was also pushed aside. Just wondering - what would happen if three white women with no apparent need for the elevator pushed ahead of the black woman with a stroller?
I also needed to haul the stroller with Mini Me in it up the stairs twice. Both times I have encountered a decent amount of indecent jerks. I also encountered two young guys who went out of their way to help me. Both were younger than I, which leaves me hoping that chivalry is not dead. Both also wished me a Happy Mother's Day.
Upon our arrival back at the chateau, Mini Me shared a Big Secret with Mommy: her tooth was shaking. Our big girl!
She also had a candy party with her little brother, which resulted in a great deal of noise and a lovely tussle.
Over all, the aching bones and muscles were totally worth hearing that she also confidentially told Mommy that she went to "a museum with Mickey and candy, and she drunk Coke".
Sunday being The Mother's Day, sibling and munchkins went to visit Yummy (Grandma) and give her "balun" and flowers (and straighten out her apartment a bit). So, Papi was dispatched to chateau de soeur to prepare for the big event. Apparently, Mini Me was really fired up about our proposed trip already, because she kept postulating about trains, Papis, and single strollers. Mini Not Me, being a perfect sponge, also expressed a burning desire of taking a trip on the chu chu. Mini Me, with all the authority of the older, therefor more informed, sibling told Mini Not Me in no uncertain terms that Papi is taking the single stroller, and there is simply no room for him.
In the end, when we were saying our good buys, Mini Not Me got upset, which made me upset also. In my defense I can only say that I am sure he was just parroting his big sister, and would have been loudly demanding "Mommy" about five minutes into the train ride. I actually came up with a plan for the next Sunday. I will take my neffie pooh first, walk to the subway, take a train, and ride to the next accessible station; at which point I can get off, board the train going in the opposite direction, and deliver him safely to Mommy. Hope it works!
Here are the highlights of our trip:
Mini Me succumbed to Morpheus on the way there, despite very serious assurances of her not being tired (our standard family trait).
We visited the new shopping mall at Columbus Circle, where a statue of a very tall and very fat naked man attracted her attention. "It is so funny, Papi!" As usual, she showed an impeccable taste and succinct way of expressing herself.
We took a walk along the Central Park South, where we encountered many, many horseys, some of them with pom poms on their heads; the source of strange stink was also explained as "horsey poopy".
Papi, being an eternal optimist, decided to check if we can go to the Central Park Zoo on Mother's Day (which also happened to be the first decent spring Sunday) without waiting too much on line. All I can say is: Thank G-d Mini Me did not figure out what was happening; and, needless to say, that activity was scratched off the list.
We obtained a cute balloon from a group of Russian musicians (whom I met last fall), who moonlight (or is it sunlight) as the kiddy entertainers in Central Park. I was not recognized, and got one of the best compliments ("I would never have pegged you as a Russian-speaking").
We also made a little round around the duck pond and saw duckys and turtles. Unfortunately, due to the fact that ALL the lawns around the pond had the "newly seeded" enclosures around them; and I did not feel like setting a bad example and breaking the rule ( like a lot of people appeared to be), the pond lost its appeal pretty quickly, and we had to move on.
Mini Me, for reasons known only to her, appointed yours truly her Official Balloon Carrier (aside from her Official Stroller Pusher). Unfortunately, on the way to our next destination, half of the balloon did not survive (for which I am blaming passing smokers).
Next stop was Dylan's Candy Shop (sorry, Candy Bar). This place is very dear to our hearts, because it witnessed her first independent steps! Anyway, I was not there for over a year; it looks like they have renovated in that time and became a three-(instead of two-) floor establishment. They have really great decor, which includs stairs made to look like globs of something see-thorough with all different kind of candy stuck in it. Unfortunately, great decor did not include the elevator. Go figure!
The main battle in Dylan's was to persuade Mini Me that not all sweets displayed were kosher; the lesser battle was to persuade her that she does not need a stuffed bunny for $20. My sweet girl eventually put the bunny back and allowed for kosher substitutions. We also got a big bag of Jelly Bellies for Mommy for Mommy's Day; I was pointing at the jars and explaining the flavors, and she was telling me if, in her august opinion, that particular flavor and color was worth it. She also got a smaller bag for her brother. After that we visited the cafe (very sunny and brightly decorated), where I was obliged to purchase her an over-priced Coke. At least half of that Coke miraculously came back to the chateau, where it elicited my sister’s suspicious glance and an even more suspicious question of “what precisely it this?” While in the cafe, Mini Me sampled everything we bought, making wise suggestions as to whatever or not her younger brother would be able to eat it, due to his as yet not full complement of teeth.
Next stop was the Disney Store, where I was obliged by my word of honor to purchase a "horsey" (otherwise known as Princess Carriage with Horses decorated in the revolting shade of pink). Why I was obliged to give my word of honor will remain a secret.
In between our stops, we walked for quite a while (or rather I was walking and pushing Mini Me in the stroller). During our travels we observed goodly amount of "goggies", babies, "baluns", fountains, and funny sculptures. We also saw a store with Kalla Dresses and another store with funny chandelier, and yet another store with very old furniture. OK, we were walking along Madison and Park avenues; but I love the way all those stuffy designer and other establishments were reduced to such simple descriptions.
Papi was also reminded, rather forcefully, that she is a bit out of shape (G-d willing, gym membership is coming as soon as certain aspects of personal life are resolved next month).
On the way back I decided to dispense with good manners (please forgive me, Mom and Dad), and simply barrel my way though the subway car towards the seat, in order to avoid having to apologize to Mini Me's parents again for cursing in front of their impressionable child. Once we arrived at our destination, three black women (without any signs of wheelchairs, canes, or strollers), pushed ahead of me into the elevator. I was not able to outmaneuver this unholy trinity because I felt bad for another woman with the stroller, who came the elevator ahead of me, and was also pushed aside. Just wondering - what would happen if three white women with no apparent need for the elevator pushed ahead of the black woman with a stroller?
I also needed to haul the stroller with Mini Me in it up the stairs twice. Both times I have encountered a decent amount of indecent jerks. I also encountered two young guys who went out of their way to help me. Both were younger than I, which leaves me hoping that chivalry is not dead. Both also wished me a Happy Mother's Day.
Upon our arrival back at the chateau, Mini Me shared a Big Secret with Mommy: her tooth was shaking. Our big girl!
She also had a candy party with her little brother, which resulted in a great deal of noise and a lovely tussle.
Over all, the aching bones and muscles were totally worth hearing that she also confidentially told Mommy that she went to "a museum with Mickey and candy, and she drunk Coke".
Thursday, May 07, 2009
ANOTHER INTERESTING PARALLEL
For some time now I have been suffering from pretty frequent heartburns. So, at a certain point, I got myself a big bottle of Tums and stuck them in my bag.
This morning, I was performing my usual everyday neurotic routine - I was cleaning and organizing my purse. Today's round also included my cosmetic bag (which I do not do every time). Being true to my neurotic nature, I checked the expiration date on the Tums. Guess what? The date is November of 2012. Now, you can call me fanciful or superstitious, but was it a sign from Heaven?
Ah, what wonderful news! Even if he is not impeached or thrown out because of his true place of birth, it's still a good omen to me. Thank you, Hashem!
This morning, I was performing my usual everyday neurotic routine - I was cleaning and organizing my purse. Today's round also included my cosmetic bag (which I do not do every time). Being true to my neurotic nature, I checked the expiration date on the Tums. Guess what? The date is November of 2012. Now, you can call me fanciful or superstitious, but was it a sign from Heaven?
Ah, what wonderful news! Even if he is not impeached or thrown out because of his true place of birth, it's still a good omen to me. Thank you, Hashem!
Monday, May 04, 2009
SWINE UPDATE
Last Thursday morning, our office building super personally delivered very important memorandums to each and every tenant. The memorandums, of course, were in regards to the swine flu. Aside from the usual nonsense, theybasically copied and pasted the advice from the CDC website, which recommended the following:
Covering nose and mouth with a tissue when coughing and sneezing, and then discarding that tissue; thoroughly washing our hands with soap and water (alcohol also seems to be effective); trying to avoid contact with sick people; and (the gem) if you become sick, CDC recommends you to stay home.
Not to be outdone by these genius actions, that same afternoon our director of HR sent everyone the following e-mail:
"Everyone -- There has been much in the news this week about Swine Flu. Flu viruses spread through person-to-person or other close contact. It can take up to five to seven days to become sick after being exposed. We encourage everyone to take precautions and maintain good health habits.
If you are ill – flu or otherwise – we encourage you to stay home. We appreciate your wanting to come in to get work done. However, when you’re not feeling well, typically you don’t function at your best. Just as important, you increase the risk of spreading germs to others in the office.
Here is a link to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that offers tips on stopping the spread of germs at work: http://www.cdc.gov/germstopper/work.htm "
Now, here is my five cent question to all of this: we only get fifteen work days off for the entire year that includes vacation, sick leave, personal leave, mental health days, etc. So, who is going to compensate us for extra time off: benevolent Obama Administration?
And speaking of that magnificent entity (our government, that is), as this little piece "goes to print", there were no news, breaking or otherwise, about quarantine of anyone recently returned from Mexico, or, at least temporarily, curtailing communications with that extremely advanced country.
Brilliant!! Another job well done!!!
Covering nose and mouth with a tissue when coughing and sneezing, and then discarding that tissue; thoroughly washing our hands with soap and water (alcohol also seems to be effective); trying to avoid contact with sick people; and (the gem) if you become sick, CDC recommends you to stay home.
Not to be outdone by these genius actions, that same afternoon our director of HR sent everyone the following e-mail:
"Everyone -- There has been much in the news this week about Swine Flu. Flu viruses spread through person-to-person or other close contact. It can take up to five to seven days to become sick after being exposed. We encourage everyone to take precautions and maintain good health habits.
If you are ill – flu or otherwise – we encourage you to stay home. We appreciate your wanting to come in to get work done. However, when you’re not feeling well, typically you don’t function at your best. Just as important, you increase the risk of spreading germs to others in the office.
Here is a link to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that offers tips on stopping the spread of germs at work: http://www.cdc.gov/germstopper/work.htm "
Now, here is my five cent question to all of this: we only get fifteen work days off for the entire year that includes vacation, sick leave, personal leave, mental health days, etc. So, who is going to compensate us for extra time off: benevolent Obama Administration?
And speaking of that magnificent entity (our government, that is), as this little piece "goes to print", there were no news, breaking or otherwise, about quarantine of anyone recently returned from Mexico, or, at least temporarily, curtailing communications with that extremely advanced country.
Brilliant!! Another job well done!!!
WEEKEND UPDATE
Here is my latest weekend update:
Friday night was spent in an almost pleasant company in my friend's house (the one where I usually end up "exchanging ideas"). Almost pleasant, because there was another space cadet from a very long line of space cadets present at the table.
The conversation was revolving around mutual friends and acquaintances (which gave me a peaceful munching time, since I could not care less about that), and then, out of the blue, the space cadet made a joke about a teleprompter, which had to be explained to the hostess. The rest, to use a cliché, is history.
I am not going to recall all the nonsense I was subjected to; I also decided not to "engage", since I am apparently just very entertaining, because I am "so passionate" about it. Basically, the idiotic conversation gave me another glimpse into the psychology of total obliviousness that plagues most of the American-born voters, even educated professionals capable of using their grey matter for tasks other than controlling the functions of the body below the neck.
Which brings me to a dismally rainy Sunday, on which I was hoping to take Mini Me to a long-overdue outing. Alas, that did not happen. I also had no motivation to get out of bed (sorry, sis). Basically, I arrived at Casa Del Munchkins in the afternoon. Inspiration struck on a whim, and I offered an outing to DD, which was met by an exuberant enthusiasm on the part of Her Royal Highness; His Royal Highness had to be coaxed a bit.
On the way there, we sang, observed busses and cars, and also commented on trees in strange colors (otherwise known as trees in bloom). Once inside DD, they were actually well-behaved angels about five minutes longer than originally anticipated (and despite being snubbed by another family with two kids). Each of them got their own serving of iced tea and two different kinds of donuts with sprinkles (from which basically only the frosting and sprinkles were eaten).
After a period of decent behavior, the joy of childhood (plus the consumed sugar) won over, and they proceed to show their extreme exuberance, which included laughing, running around, making faces into the windows, taking pictures of strangers - otherwise known as having plain, clean fun. After about ten minutes of this, they had to be evacuated and conveyed back to Casa Del Munchkins. On the way back, despite the rainy weather, they also managed to have fun, which included playing pick-a-boo through the plastic rain cover, kicking the same said cover, and tussling with each other. Oh, they joys of childhood!
Upon arrival, Mini Me organized a game of hide-and-seek. According to her rules, people hiding are told where to hide, which worked fine for Mini Not Me; in the case of Papi, they had to look for her long and hard, and she did not even have to use lots of imagination (just hide behind the same closet couple of times). Ah, the logic of toddlers!
After that, my sibling expressed a longing for a really creamy Mac-and-Cheese. After I volunteered to cook it, she confessed to locating a recipe and even boiling water (before succumbing to Morpheus). So, yours truly, with an enthusiastic assistance of Mini Me and under a watchful eye and periodic yells of neurotic brother-in-law, managed to concoct a very cheesy and somewhat creamy Mac-and-Cheese. Baby sister was in transports of delight, which in turn left yours truly delighted too.
After that is was bath time, when Her Royal Highness gave Her August Permission to be scrubbed by her humble servant at the accompaniment of our popular "scrubby" song.
Basically, another case of slight exhaustion with a warm fuzzy feeling inside; which, of course, brings us to Monday morning and closing the circle of stupidity that began Friday night.
The usual excitement associated with traveling on public transportation during a rainy Monday morning was compounded by strangely glaring looks of one of our recently promoted Senior Associates. On top of that, big boss decided to sort the mail during my unforgivable absence for a lunch break, which resulted in, among other things, longer process of sorting the invoices and his written instructions to yours truly on the fact that a particular piece of mail did not belong to our office (after he opened it).
Life!
Friday night was spent in an almost pleasant company in my friend's house (the one where I usually end up "exchanging ideas"). Almost pleasant, because there was another space cadet from a very long line of space cadets present at the table.
The conversation was revolving around mutual friends and acquaintances (which gave me a peaceful munching time, since I could not care less about that), and then, out of the blue, the space cadet made a joke about a teleprompter, which had to be explained to the hostess. The rest, to use a cliché, is history.
I am not going to recall all the nonsense I was subjected to; I also decided not to "engage", since I am apparently just very entertaining, because I am "so passionate" about it. Basically, the idiotic conversation gave me another glimpse into the psychology of total obliviousness that plagues most of the American-born voters, even educated professionals capable of using their grey matter for tasks other than controlling the functions of the body below the neck.
Which brings me to a dismally rainy Sunday, on which I was hoping to take Mini Me to a long-overdue outing. Alas, that did not happen. I also had no motivation to get out of bed (sorry, sis). Basically, I arrived at Casa Del Munchkins in the afternoon. Inspiration struck on a whim, and I offered an outing to DD, which was met by an exuberant enthusiasm on the part of Her Royal Highness; His Royal Highness had to be coaxed a bit.
On the way there, we sang, observed busses and cars, and also commented on trees in strange colors (otherwise known as trees in bloom). Once inside DD, they were actually well-behaved angels about five minutes longer than originally anticipated (and despite being snubbed by another family with two kids). Each of them got their own serving of iced tea and two different kinds of donuts with sprinkles (from which basically only the frosting and sprinkles were eaten).
After a period of decent behavior, the joy of childhood (plus the consumed sugar) won over, and they proceed to show their extreme exuberance, which included laughing, running around, making faces into the windows, taking pictures of strangers - otherwise known as having plain, clean fun. After about ten minutes of this, they had to be evacuated and conveyed back to Casa Del Munchkins. On the way back, despite the rainy weather, they also managed to have fun, which included playing pick-a-boo through the plastic rain cover, kicking the same said cover, and tussling with each other. Oh, they joys of childhood!
Upon arrival, Mini Me organized a game of hide-and-seek. According to her rules, people hiding are told where to hide, which worked fine for Mini Not Me; in the case of Papi, they had to look for her long and hard, and she did not even have to use lots of imagination (just hide behind the same closet couple of times). Ah, the logic of toddlers!
After that, my sibling expressed a longing for a really creamy Mac-and-Cheese. After I volunteered to cook it, she confessed to locating a recipe and even boiling water (before succumbing to Morpheus). So, yours truly, with an enthusiastic assistance of Mini Me and under a watchful eye and periodic yells of neurotic brother-in-law, managed to concoct a very cheesy and somewhat creamy Mac-and-Cheese. Baby sister was in transports of delight, which in turn left yours truly delighted too.
After that is was bath time, when Her Royal Highness gave Her August Permission to be scrubbed by her humble servant at the accompaniment of our popular "scrubby" song.
Basically, another case of slight exhaustion with a warm fuzzy feeling inside; which, of course, brings us to Monday morning and closing the circle of stupidity that began Friday night.
The usual excitement associated with traveling on public transportation during a rainy Monday morning was compounded by strangely glaring looks of one of our recently promoted Senior Associates. On top of that, big boss decided to sort the mail during my unforgivable absence for a lunch break, which resulted in, among other things, longer process of sorting the invoices and his written instructions to yours truly on the fact that a particular piece of mail did not belong to our office (after he opened it).
Life!
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