In the News Today

I love it when I turn to the news and find out some totally bizarre story, such as this one, which (no surprise here) hails from California, and San Francisco no less:

Ostrich Breaks Free on Golden Gate Bridge

Apparently an ostrich fell out of a minivan and ran around on the bridge for awhile before it was caught. And while many questions may come to mind upon reading a sentence like that, the one at the forefront of mine is: a minivan? Is that really the preferred method for transporting giant birds with incredibly long legs and necks? I'll just point out that the ostrich that fell out of the minivan was one of two in the van. I'm having a great deal of trouble imagining that either of them were comfortable. On the other hand, I'm having a lot of fun imagining both of them fighting over seat space.

The quote for the day goes to the ostrich's owner, Ron Love of Love Farms, who sagely observed, ""Strange things always seem to happen with ostriches. I guess this proves it."

Indeed.

So anyway, writing this has reminded me of some of the odd things I've seen on the many roads I've traveled in my life, one of which being a live cat riding on a man's shoulders as he biked down the main street in my town. Another would be a large horse standing in the back of a pickup truck driving through the streets of Amman, Jordan. I also once saw a car decked out in maimed dolls' heads and arms and other scary paraphernalia heading down Hwy 101. (Boy, do I wish I had a picture of that one!)

I'm curious as to what strange sights other people might have seen on their journeyings, so tell me about it. If you can beat the ostrich on the Golden Gate Bridge story, I'll be delighted. I might even give you a prize!

NOTE: d'oh! I just realized that I've already asked this question about weird things you see on the road in one of my posts, nearly a year ago now. I thought it sounded familiar. Oops! But I don't care I'm going to leave it, because I'm sure that in a year's time you have seen new strange things, right? And besides, maybe some of you weren't reading the frogg files yet, and missed out.

Super-Size It! (Not)

So I asked my brother E-rock to pour me a drink a few minutes ago, as he was in the kitchen and I wasn't, and I was too lazy to do it myself. I asked for Diet Rite, even though I don't actually like Diet Rite all that much. I think I have this idea that maybe next time will be different and I will suddenly be overwhelmed by its delicious refreshingness, but every time I am disappointed. And anyway, that was the only soda in the house, and I was desperate for something carbonated and bad for me. A sad addiction indeed.

But to the point. After acknowledging my request, my brother comes into the room with a cup roughly the size of the Grand Canyon.

"Here," he says. "There's actually a lot in there."

I looked at the cup (which was not even a third full), and then my brother, in disbelief. We have an entire cupboard full of mugs and glasses, far more than we need, and he picks out this extra-large, gargantuan plastic monstrosity from McDonald's.

"What the...I can fit my whole face in here!" I cried. "Are you kidding me?"

He shrugged. I lifted the cup to take a drink and instantly realized that I was in an extremely vulnerable position, because if someone did, hypothetically, want to sneak up on me and take my life, why, what more perfect opportunity than while my head was inside a giant plastic cup! I couldn't see a single thing while I was drinking, except the bottom of the cup.

I had to wonder, as I was contemplating the possibility of my untimely demise ("she was drinking a soda, officer, and a guy hit her over the head with a hammer--she never even saw it coming")...who really needs to drink that much of anything? The other question going through my mind was, why is McDonald's an Olympic sponsor? Because it says right there on the cup "Proud Partner" underneath the Olympic rings logo. I mean, are athletes actually eating McDonald's "food" as part of their regimen? Are they drinking soda from giant plastic cups like this? Somehow I doubt it.

AAAAHHHH!!!!

The most horrible bug I have ever seen in my entire LIFE (and I would include the icky New Zealand bug that looked like a giant flying cockroach and landed on my face once) is in my room at this very moment. At least, I am not sure...it ran out of my sight, under my curtains. I am hoping it left somehow, but it may not have. It is so horrible, I don't even know what it is. It has a flexible body like a centipede, but it isn't thick like one. It is about as long as my pinky, and has something like a gazillion legs to the tenth power. And it is very, very fast.

*shudder*

Why do bugs like me so, when all I do is hate them??

(I just went to see if the bug was gone. I moved the curtains, and no bug, but a SPIDER ran out! Ugh!!!! I think I need to sleep somewhere else tonight.)

Nostalgia

It seems like only yesterday, when I would stay up all night, writing madly through the wee hours in an effort to make a morning deadline, and in the process consuming strong (but not particularly good) coffee, devouring sugary food (mmmm Milky Way!) and then walking around like a zombie through the day because of sleep deprivation, to the point where I'd start wondering why random people were smiling and talking to me like they knew me, until I realized that they did know me, but I'd forgotten because I was so tired.

Oh wait, that was yesterday.

The other night I had a flashback to my college years, as I worked to make a last-minute newspaper deadline. Originally the deadline was slated for next week, but about two hours before I had to go to my other job, I got a call from one of my editors, who asked if by any chance I just might be able to get the story (which I hadn't started writing yet) done by 10am on Wednesday morning, to make this week's edition of the paper. I looked at the clock and did some quick calculations: it was already Tuesday; I was going to be at work from 1:45-10:30pm; the article was supposed to be nearly 1000 words and I had yet to interview most of the people I was supposed to interview (at least I had interviewed the main guy! whew!). Then I answered with every ounce of journalistic ambition that I posses:

"Yeah, hmmm, I don't know about that."

Well, to my credit, I unearthed a level of determined go-get-em-tigressness that I didn't even know I possessed, and after I got off work that night, I came home and approached the task before me just as I would have when I was still in school: I procrastinated for two hours, then I put on a pot of coffee (without measuring the coffee--I think I put in enough for about 3 pots), cracked my knuckles ( actually I am lying about that, I hate cracking knuckles), and got to work. (I also had a Milky Way. Sugar is very important for late-night writing.)

And, ta-da, I made my deadline! With time to spare, too--finished at 8am! I'd also say I got the equivalent of an 'A+', when I found out this morning that I'd gotten the cover story slot. Yee-ha!

Well, it's nice to know I haven't changed all that much since college. Or...maybe it isn't. Maybe I should have changed, and it's actually a terrible shame that I'm much the same. Hmm. Well, I don't know what I'm talking about, because I think I killed some brain cells with all the bad coffee and sleep deprivation, so I'm going to go now, if you don't mind.

Until next time, here is the quote of the day, courtesy of Happy Gilmore, which I am half-watching at the moment (see what I mean about dead brain cells!):

"What, friends listen to "Endless Love" in the dark!"

(Did I use a lot of parentheses in this post, or is it just me?)

Get Your Immunizations Today!

August is National Immunization Month! I found that out while I was on hold to talk to someone at Children's Hospital. There were lots of little announcements given periodically during my (somewhat lengthy) hold time, all against a backdrop of bad 70s/early 80s pseudo-jazz soap-opera music. Why do hospitals in particular seem to like music like this? Is it supposed to make you feel better if you're sick? Because for me it has the opposite effect. And then I think, maybe that's the idea! "Get 'em sick, and get 'em in here! Muuuahahahaha!"

Ok, I'm joking. I am sure hospitals are not trying to make people sick by subjecting them to bad music. (It would be funny if they were, though, wouldn't it?)

But I wanted to talk about immunizations, because they are very important, and there are some that I really wish scientists would make. For example: I would love someone to come up with an immunization against Stupid Question Syndrome. And before you all jump on me and say, "There is no such thing as a stupid question!" let me assure you: there is. I work in retail, so I know. Trust me.

I would also lobby for an immunization against Bad Driving Disease. EVERYONE IN LOS ANGELES NEEDS THIS VACCINE! Except me, of course. I am an excellent driver, and when I accidentally cut someone off because I forgot to check my blind spot, I actually don't, it is just your imagination corrupting the facts and not seeing that it is the other person's fault for being in my blind spot in the first place. What were they doing there? Something suspicious and bad-driverly, no doubt, such as keeping their blinking signal on for miles but NOT changing lanes.)

Finally, I think most people would benefit from a shot of Anti-Illogical Argumentation, especially anyone on either the far right or far left of the political or religious spectrum. I hear so many illogical arguments these days, it's a little frightening, and maddening too, to the point where I want to find Occam's Razor and slit someone's throat with it. Probably mine.

(Oh, and I forgot an immunization against Pet Peeves. Judging from what I've written here, I could use a dose of that.)

Bleah Tape Recorders!

I have an adversarial relationship with tape recorders. By that, I mean I hate them. Twice in my life, I have attempted to use tape recorders in interview settings for articles I was writing. After all, isn't that what journalists do? I don't really know, since I sort of stumbled into the journalism thing by accident; I wasn't trained for it, and I don't really consider myself a journalist despite the inclusion of my name on the masthead of a local newspaper in my town. But the point is that both times I have attempted to actually appear journalistic (look, I have a tape recorder, therefore I must be a journalist!), the tape recorders in question failed me.

Just now, for instance, I tried to play back an interview I did last week, and here's what I heard on the tape: nothing. Now that's going to come in useful.

Thankfully, I took notes because I don't trust tape recorders. But still, it's the principle of the thing. I know that I am technologically challenged at times (despite the fact that I work in a computer store--oh the irony), but surely tape recorders aren't really that difficult to operate? You put a tape in and hit "record." I mean, honestly.

Naptime

I tried to take a nap this afternoon, but my room was too hot. Now I feel sick.

I am always a little out of sorts when I take naps during the day, but most especially on hot afternoons. I get very disoriented and groggy, more so than if I had just left well enough alone and stayed awake until I went to bed later on in the evening.

Once, when I was in high school, I came home from school exhausted and lay down in my room for a nap before starting on homework (or, if I remember myself correctly, not starting on it). I woke up and saw that it was 6:00. Outside it was that grayish sort of haze that could be either morning or evening, and in this case I thought it was morning; I was absolutely convinced I had slept all the way through the afternoon, into the night, and now it was the next morning and OH NO I hadn't done my homework! (Why that should have stressed me out I don't know, since I tended not to do it anyway, as I said. But anyway, I was upset, on principle.)

I got up and took a shower, and began to drearily get my stuff ready for another tedious day of classes. While I was doing so, my mom stopped by my room, knocked on the door, and peeked in.

"How are you feeling?" she said.

"Fine," I said in a voice like a tomb. "Except for the fact that I took a nap yesterday and I slept all the way til now, and I didn't get my homework done, and now I have to go to school. Ugh."

My mother looked at me strangely. "Oh, ok," she said, and backed slowly out of the room.

Well, I continued to get ready, and eventually I plodded downstairs with my backpack. My brother E and my dad were in the living room, talking. They stopped when they saw me. My dad said, "Where are you going?"

With every ounce of teenaged sarcasm in my body, I snapped, "Where does it look like I'm going? Obviously I'm going to school!"

My brother and my dad started laughing, which of course made me angrier.

"What's so funny?" But I didn't wait for an answer, just flounced off to another room to get away from them.

And then I realized that it was, in fact, not 6 in the morning, but 6 in the evening on the same day that I had lain down for a nap. I hadn't overslept at all! It was still yesterday, not today! Or tomorrow. Or it was now, not then. Er, or...well, I was very confused at that point, as you can imagine! I kept forgetting what day it was, for the rest of the night. It was all very surreal.

But on the other hand I was pleased that I had more time to not do all the homework I had been upset about not doing when I thought it was the next day.