Dear Bryon,
I totally took the bait. Nofair, cunning cranky hedgehog! And I bet you already knew it would all end up on here. But, you went and spelled my name wrong, and although I might be the "most fantastic Oxy [you've] ever met", I also happen to be the only fantabulous Oxy in the world there is. Baha!
xo
Fam
You know what's totally funny? My *favorite* cousin, he's like, fourteen? And like, he has a blog. Just like me, his way kewl older cuz. Yo. And like, he writes some cool schiznat, like about roller coasters, and something about picasso, and it has pictures sometimes. Like, totally. ohmigod. Well, actually, no. Not! hahaha LMAO. Well, there was that one pic, once. He's wicked hyper! But Anyway! Yeah! You should soooo totally read his blog, so you can all make fun of him, too. Because he made me wicked crazy when he was a little twerp.
Love you 'Droid. You're a big twerp, now.
-Annie
Karma (again)
Some days, things just work themselves out.
For instance, there was that prior escapade with the annoying birds and my busted cell phone, which turned out to be an epiphany on the inner workings of the universe. The funny thing is, my mobile was all cockimamy malfunctions for about two weeks, and then it just suddenly healed itself, as if nothing had befallen it at all. Karma's a biznatch, in appropriate doses.
Today I had to go to the main offices down by Symphony Hall to drop off some of my students' artwork for a contest. Coming from school en route on the bus, I realized I had forgotten to grab the blank cd's I needed for their design assignments this week. More about that later. At any rate I couldn't go back, drat it all, crap crap crap. I was utterly pissed and kicking myself the whole ride into Boston, and after I got off the 39 I figured I'd have to stop somewhere and drop some more cash to replace them. But there was nowhere in that vicinity to purchase such a thing, without enduring a frigid trot for four or five blocks in any direction. Inconvenient!!
drat drat drat, crap crap crap......brrr!
So I dropped off the kiddoes' art, and decided to make the best of things. I decided to scamper up the street to the ATM, and back across the street to the florist, where I bought a pretty flower for Bryon. Then back across again, and up the block into the dinky corner grocery place, looking for some decent chocolate to stash in his studio as a suprise later. Who says I'm not an awesome girlfriend?! Wahahaha!
I was poking around among the standard seven-elevenish stock, eyeing power bars and toenail clippers and bags of cheetos, looking for Bryon-treats, when I spotted a stack of multicolored cd cases on one of the shelves. I couldn't believe my luck. I brought ten of them to the counter, and the man grinned at me and gave me a discount when he rang me up. Score!
The thing is, all while I was scurrying around that one-block vicinity, I must have passed the same wobegone homeless guy about five times. And each time, he politely asked me for change, but I hadn't any to give. Or maybe I was just harried and jaded and cold. But after the powers-that-be arranged for me to have just the things I needed at just the right time, however material and paltry they may be (with a discount to boot!), I figured I ought to do a little payback. So I tucked all the change I had from the flower and the chocolate and the cd's into my pocket, and strode straight back up the block one more time to say hello to the man. I handed him a fistful of coins, which was everything in my pocket, then wished him well and turned back around to walk to the bus stop.
The story is not over yet. This is not about me reveling in my sainthood over $1.63 that I deigned to grace upon some decrepit soul, or my softening, weeping heart, or a ridiculous comparison in how lucky I am in contrast to someone who has to beg for a living. This is about what happened thirty seconds later, and why I know something's looking out for me.
Almost as soon as I got to the bus stop another homeless man, having spotted my impromptu philanthropy, stopped me to ask for money. I smiled and said I hadn't any left, I had just given it away. He laughed and teasingly said, "C'mon! I have twelve kids at home to look out for!" I thought this was absolutely hilarious. So I said, laughing and rummaging in my purse for coins, "Oh yeah?! What are their names?!" And he started.
"Tyrone, Bubba, Joey, Pete, err....Paulina, Victor, Jackie, Eddie, Don....ummm....Carmela, Hector, and, and, Robbie!!!"
I nearly peed my pants, he was so funny.
And just then, I reached back in my pocket and found two previously unnoticed dollar bills. So worth two bucks. I handed them over, laughing, and then went home.
Yum
In an effort to make me Not-Skinny, Bryon made Chocolate Bejeesus Death-Fudge. I nearly just fell on the kitchen floor after having a bite. My left eyeball is now throbbing....yet....I feel somehow profoundly satisfied.
mmm, chocolate.
I think I'm going to go eat some more!
Maybe this is what love is all about.
I like this picture of me. I think it makes my butt look cute.
I feel compelled to write in annie's absence, if only to affirm the fact that I am not a fat-ass, quite contrary to the image of me that was posted yesterday. I am actually rather petite, with a charming figure and a stunning personality. And although I do enjoy an occasional bite of pizza, in no way have I ever "stuffed my face". I am deeply offended.
While discussing the issue at hand this morning, I suggested that she might possibly be jealous of my keen elegance and superior writing talent, and further threatened to start my own derogatory blog in her dishonor. This was met with more squabbling and petty insults, the absolute withholding of my morning carrot, and then I peed on her socks when she called me ratbutt.
I hate being called ratbutt.
Apparently she has stomped out of the house because I can't hear her rustling about in the other room, making kitchen noises and shuffling papers on the table. I am using this moment of solitude to commandeer her computer, set matters straight for my public image, poke around on Ebay, and check on my e-shares.
Lettuce, as it turns out, makes a poor investment. No matter.
The thing is, I love Annie dearly. Yes, she and I do bicker, like any close companions would. The truth is, though, that I feel it is my duty to look out for her, to educate her in subjects of high intellect, advise her on matters of the heart (bryon was an excellent choice), and make sure she always has someone to come home to. Without me, she might be a fashion disaster in a second rate love affair with no good books to read. Poor thing.
The other night, while delicately nibbling on our pizza, we had a rather interesting discussion on the up and coming theories in quantum physics. Annie does not appear to be the sort of person who dabbles in advanced cosmic theory, being prone to wearing her hair in pigtails and suffering overly dramatic episodes, but I would like to advocate for her latent and underlying intellectual genius. Sadly, her brilliance is often grossly underestimated, and I feel sympathetic to this misconception, since I am a mere rodent with transcendent aspirations myself. But i digress.
Apparently there is some vague yet compelling evidence that the big bang, as it were, is not a singular inflationary event, and as the theories contrived to support such a model have become more complex, so has its legitimacy. At this point my pigtailed compadre invoked the principle of Occam's razor, which states that the simplest explanation for a natural phenomena is generally the most accurate. In other words, with everyone flying off the handle over dark matter and extravagant formulae for the assymetrical rate of expansion, all of which seem to have been pulled out of someone's cosmic bum, physics has lost sight of necessary simplicity. This new idea, which at first seems rather fruity, is based on a concept of multiple universes/dimensions/realities. At first I felt this was all a little too B-movie-ish, but annie kindly pointed out that this is already a familiar aspect of quantum theory. At any rate, these realities are modeled as three-dimensional panels, or membranes, suspended in a matrix of higher dimensions. Every bajillion years or so, these membranes crash against one another, and the resulting collision creates an epic blowout the size and scale of the alleged Big Bang. furthermore, the resulting expansion from this universal conflagration follows the same pattern as physicists have observed in the universe, without the extra frills and theoretical hangers-on.
ahh, simplicity. and pizza in my tummy.
well, she will be home soon, so alas, i must sign off for now. Later, I think we will have reconciliary carrots and discuss karma.
ta ta, my lovelies.
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