March 21st, 2009

Nine

Crackers in bed!

A meme taken from leora:

Would you kick me out of your bed for eating crackers?

Answer this question, then post it in your journal. If anyone answers "yes", cry a lot and ask why they don't like you, then try seducing them by suggesting alternate cracker varieties.

To cause a potentially awkward relationship discussion, ask your SO the same question, ideally while naked and holding a cracker.


My answer for all of you, assuming you were in my bed for reasons that seemed legitimate at the time: I'd kick the crackers out of bed. And since it's no fair for me to post a meme without any actual content, I present a childhood story.

Dad had a hard and fast rule against eating in bed, particularly crackers. This was his very rational response to sensory sensitivity issues. Crumbs on the sheets were a very bad thing for him, and would lead to immediate and complete stripping of the bed to remove and replace the offending sheets, because he just could not abide the feeling that much. (I am somewhat less sensitive, but can't abide it either, thus kicking the crackers out of bed.)

One lazy summer afternoon, my sister and I were determined to simultaneously enjoy our books, the luxury of lounging on our parents' bed, and tasty fresh sweet garden carrots, picked just that day and scrubbed in clear cold water, with the tops snapped off and fed to the hungry and appreciative chickens. Now, our parents never laid down rules without reasons, and had been in the habit of explaining the reason for each rule to us as soon as we were old enough to understand. (This did lead to some ... creative ... endeavors in interpretation. Tay-Tay was better at that than I was.) This day was one of those days. One of us reasoned as follows: "Well, Dad's objection to food in bed is crumbs. Carrots are a food. Carrots do not leave crumbs. Therefore, Dad's objection to carrots in bed is invalid (and he will never know if we flout it in his absence). Q.E.D." So we ate our carrots, curled up reading with Mama.

At night when Dad came back, we thought we'd gotten away with it -- until Dad let out an unholy shout. Seems that one of us (probably me) had left a carrot stump in bed. These are evidently cold when encountered with the naked bottom, especially unexpectedly, in bed. Dad laid down the law: NO EATING IN MY BED. PARTICULARLY NOT CRACKERS. NOR CARROTS.
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nanowrimo2004, Home Movies from the Cutting-Room Floor

Hooray for Deacon

Went up to my aunt's last night and watched movies with her. A load of Netflix had arrived. First up: Don't Tell Her It's Me, a very 80s romantic comedy about the brother of a romance writer being made over and set up with a reporter. The dogs mobbed me once I'd sat down. Deacon decided that he wanted to be petted and also that his face was itchy and my skirt was the best thing available to itch it on. The poodle decided something of the same, and started rubbing his face all over ... on Deacon. Poodles

In the middle of the movie, I glanced over into the kitchen and saw the head and shoulders of a certain Bad Dog -- Deacon was doing what is known as "counter surfing": standing up at the counter with front paws on the counter, cheerfully eating off it. That was my aunt's soup. Bad dog. (Hasn't been fed! Ever!) 

Next up: Henry Poole Is Here, a weird, character-driven film about a guy named Henry Poole who moves into a quiet little neighborhood. Everyone has their own little tragic story. He was totally better in "Bad Blood". It was an all right movie. 

Of course, when I got back home, I didn't wind up getting to sleep until way, way too late. I'm going around the clock again, freewheeling. This is, um, not such a good plan. 

This is also a test of the RTE in Google Chrome, thus the fun markup. 
JD sleep

Santa Cruz is not Santa Claus

As scaryjeff was to be in town, chasethestars decided to plan a trip to Santa Cruz. jai_dit got in on the fun. Since I have a car, I was recruited. The trip was Friday morning, right after Thursday the night before. We met up at the Daly City BART station at 11. I had stayed up a bit too late the night before, but did manage to get the car somewhat presentable. I had a box of the yogurt-dipped pretzels from Trader Joe's, the ones that look like the snowflake cookie vgift. :D

We drove to Santa Cruz. Map of the Highlights! We took Highway 1 down.

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