Nest bed

When I was in high school I moved with my family to a new house about a mile away from the old one. Each of my siblings and I were getting our own bedrooms and we really didn't have much say on the furniture or features but we did get to choose the wall colors. I chose red. The red walls were great and exactly what I envisioned but what I really remember wanting in that bedroom was a nest. A NEST. If it were up to me my bed would have been a giant, cushy bird nest. I don't remember why. Thank the heavens for moms.

PDX/PHX Treasures

My roommate introduced me to a new addiction: the best of craigslist. I'm not sure who sifts through every ad posted on the site, but somehow the best of them are saved and added to the "best of" folder. It's totally brill and I've wasted more than a couple hours laughing, blushing, pondering and/or gasping. I've found posts on both the Portland and Phoenix pages that I'd like to share with you.

1. From Phoenix:

WANTED: free ox
Date: 2004-10-29, 10:39AM MST

Hello. I would like an ox. I need a pet to keep away burglars and to keep the neighborhood kids off my lawn. I figure an ox should do the trick. If anyone has an extra ox please let me know. Preferably one that looks like this:



2. From Portland

Slugs for lease
Date: 2008-05-29, 8:52PM PDT

I have some banana slugs I will lease out for $1.00 per day.
You just come catch them, and keep sliding dollar bills under my front door.
I also have some worms availabe for .50 daily, and a few spiders as well.
I am trying to save up for a flat screen TV.
Thank you so much in advance.



3. Another from Portland

Clean Out My Mini-Fridge for $25
Date: 2007-10-12, 9:39PM PDT

Some mystery sauce spilled in my fridge one day, and I didn't feel like cleaning it up. Several hours later, I went on vacation for a couple weeks, giving the sauce time to ferment and congeal into a colorful, ominously pulsating substance with an odor I won't attempt to describe here.

This was half a year ago. The sauce is still there, and the intensity of its fragrance is almost overpowering. When I absolutely have to retrieve something from the fridge, I do it as quickly as possible, lest the sauce begin growling at me, or worse.

Please. Help me. I can't deal with this alone.

The fridge isn't big- 3.5'x2.5'x2.5', at most. It will probably take less than 45 minutes to clean.

Anyone?

Medical Career

I've found a new career and it's high time I let you all in on the fun.

As I sat alone in the chaotic waiting area as much as I wanted to I couldn't ignore the thick irony stink that filled the plasma bank. Squeezed between two large individuals (one who was reading Soap Opera Digest) I became a sponge and let the sights and sounds (and smells) sink in. All I really should have to write about the first couple that stood out is "K Swiss." Says plenty, right? Not when they are worn by an obese woman with a black eye and bruised arms sitting next her skinny redhead boyfriend wearing a professional wrestling t-shirt, it doesn't. I was completely enthralled by the abusive body language they used toward one another when all of a sudden the technician in room four yelled for "Reuben." A long-haired man unfortunately resembling Creed lead singer, Scott Stapp, stood and my world fell apart. Tumor. The largest protruding tumor extended from the underside of his right arm; it might as well have had a mouth, eyes and a nose, come to think of it, maybe it did. I was in the middle of estimating that it was about the size of a large grapefruit when I heard a lady behind me talking about a potato diet she was on. Naturally, my ears perked. She explained to a friend on the phone that she tried the fruit and vegetable diet, eating nothing but Popeye's red beans and rice and collard greens (fruit and veggie diet?), but didn't see any results (shocking). The potato diet however, was her new beginning; potatoes three times a day, cooked any way she liked, and she had already lost four pounds in one week.

After hours of waiting for a background check, a physical exam and blood tests I at last was taken to the actual plasma collection section. I joined dozens of people sitting in reclined chairs and staring blankly up at television screens. To close one's eyes is prohibited as are hoods, sunglasses and using a cellphone in the plasma zone. This wasn't a problem for me, the tall plastic containers filling with the yellow to amber plasma proved entertainment enough for me. Today I observed that Native American plasma often has a greenish hue and Mexican plasma yellow. My fellow Caucasians and I boast a pinkish plasma. Today mine looked like a Big Stick Popsicle, fading from amber to pink to yellow; delighted was I.

The plasma bank is located in a strip business/shopping development in Tempe. To get a feel for it I should tell you that it's surrounded by a Check into Cash, Labor Ready, Los Favoritos Taco Shop and an armed forces recruiting center.

Since my initial visit I've gone back two additional times. I've been preached at and yelled at, but mostly, eye contact and verbal communication are completely avoided. I'm sure it's best that way.

Lately

 

Fresh

I love this wispy cover of "Please Don't Stop the Music" by The Bird and the Bee. Click the link, press play and have a listen.

The Bird & The Bee - Please Don’t Stop The Music (Rihanna Cover)

Posted using ShareThis

Landlocked

I'm sure you've all heard about "The Best Job In The World" by now. It's a dream gig provided by the tourism council of Queensland hiring one person to be caretaker of the islands of the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. The incredibly lucky (and probably beautiful) person will live there for six months, visit the islands, snorkel, scuba dive and explore resorts. He or she will be required to blog about their adventures and will get paid an insane amount on top of it all. I MUST HAVE IT. My only problem is that it's currently being advertised in 18 countries including the United States and, gulp, China (not to mention the whole beautiful part). The selection process is very reality show, requiring a video application and some mega charisma. Please don't worry, I have a game plan: first, I've got to find someone with a video camera, second, I will have to drink six Rock Stars (you know, just to create a little extra excitement), and third, I will have to get my sexy on. I've got a handle on step two, however, steps one and three are still a little iffy. At least I've thought about it, right?

Wait and see. You'll all be jealous once I'm there. You should all apply too (or not so I have a better shot). http://www.islandreefjob.com/

My other obsession of the moment involves another island: Palau. My friend Kiffen travels the world as a flight attendant and recently heard about a place in the Pacific, a salt water lake filled with millions of non-stinging jellyfish. I couldn't stop thinking about it so did a little research of my own. The island is Palau in Micronesia and the place is called Jellyfish Lake. Apparently there are dozens of lakes just like Jellyfish Lake all but it however, are protected. The lake is isolated but once had an outlet to the ocean. Before the outlet was sealed a number of jellyfish were trapped and over time their natural defenses evolved. The jellies do have stinging cells but luckily and strangely most humans are unaffected by them; with no natural predators they have no reason to sting, I guess (thanks Wikipedia). This is incredible to me, and of course it has skyrocketed to the top of my must visit list. Take a look at this phenomenon for yourself:

Bloody Advice

I did some grocery shopping the other morning and while inspecting my usual carton of $2.09 brown eggs I was interrupted by a miniature elderly gremlin-like woman who, calling me "Sonny," advised me to go with the carton of white Lucern eggs for $1.89. She went on to tell me that she had been a grocery shopper for more than 75 years and could always spot a bargain. I was hesitant to leave my brown eggs behind but even after explaining to Gremlin Lady that I had been quite content with them she wouldn't have it. She forced those white eggs into my basket and I reluctantly went on my way. I usually do my grocery shopping late at night so as to avoid interaction, but I had a days worth of plans so went during the morning rush hour. Gremmy didn't just advise me on eggs, she also didn't see it fit to buy perfectly ripe yellow bananas; if I bought them green they'd last longer. "Obviously Gremsky, but I want to eat them today," thought I. Of course I ended up buying the green ones. And later she counseled me through the bulk foods section, dishing recipes and ways to spice up dehydrated bean soups. My regular 20-minute shopping time ended up taking an hour. Understand that I do respect the elderly, enjoy their stories and acknowledge their wisdom but when my brown eggs are compromised I'm not a happy camper. I even tried once to escape her death gaze and switch the whites for the browns but somehow she beat me to the aisle.

This little story brings me to the real issue of the moment. I woke up this morning, it's a lovely sunny Saturday and I decided to cook some eggs and toast. With a chip on my shoulder I opened the carton of white Lucern eggs, five had been used, seven to go before I had an excuse to buy my brown ones. I cracked the first into the frying pan and watched it sizzle for a moment before cracking the second. Number two was in my hand, I pounded it twice on the edge of the counter, split it in half and shrieked. BLOOD. My egg was full of blood. I didn't even allow time to inspect, without thinking I threw it down the garbage disposal, but I'm sure there was at least a beak and a feather or two floating in the pool of blood and yoke. Needless to say, a small portion of my soul withered in that moment.

I considered not eating breakfast after the bloody egg, not unfathomable, but my stomach told me not to. What's worse is I went for another egg (I'm sick, I know) instead of swearing them off for life. I cracked egg number three. Blood. Vomit. Went for egg number four. Blood.

No more eggs for me. At least no more $1.89 white Lucern eggs cursed by old gremlins at Safeway.

Reasonably Pensive

Seriously though, does a game get any better than Bingo? You wish.