Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett Dead.

Wow. Today has been a day of loss for American culture. The King of Pop, Michael Jackson died a little after 3:00pm PST. And, earlier today, former Charlie's Angels star Farrah Fawcett lost her long battle with cancer. 

The greater shock is about Michael's death. He was fifty and died of a sudden cardiac arrest, found in his home by one of his houseworkers. Details are sparse, but it is definitely a shock, as he was preparing for a huge comeback tour this summer.

Rest in peace both of you. Today we lost two great icons (regardless of your personal view of them). Their contributions to American, (and even world) culture were indeed great.

Cats suck.

Having recently cleaned up the sun porch where the family cat lives, I have come to the conclusion that I will not buy a cat. The room was full of so much cat dander, cat hair, hidden fur balls, puke, and dead rotting mice carcasses, that I nearly lost my lunch, and at one point or another, my will to live. Who ever said cats are clean is a liar. Sure, maybe they keep themselves clean, but that's it. That is why I will at some point get a dog instead of a cat (probably when I move out of my parents' basement).

This will be my dog:

The Metaphor of the Pet Fish

Try to pull a life lesson or sophisticated metaphor out of this:

At the beginning of this semester my brother agreed to take care of three guppies when a girl he hardly knew said her landlord wouldn't let her have them. So, we, or should I say I, ended up caring for these fish. I kept their tank clean, changed their water, fed them, and did all the normal fish care essentials. Unfortunately, I had to leave for winter break. While I gorged myself in holiday dinners and moped around my parent's house, the fish were back at school, all alone. I told a friend of mine to feed them and water my plants, and thought not much of it.

Then I returned. One of the fish was dead. Another was doing strange acrobatics and water Tae Bo that led me to believe he was also near the end of his days with us. A few days later he died. They were of course given their due respect with a proper fish burial, involving a net and a toilet. So now I have one fish. He has remained chipper, and one might even say "plucky." He eats well, swims well, and seems to enjoy being the king of his domain. 

So I suppose my question is this: Which fish are you? 

Are you like my last remaining fish who held on with faith until after the master returned and still lives in harmony on his fish throne?

or

Are you the fish who died before his return?

or

Are you the fish who held out long enough to see the master, do some stupid tricks to either save yourself or impress me, and then die shortly thereafter?

Defiant Garbage Collectors

Every wednesday morning, garbage collectors come by my house. I assume they come to collect garbage. Seems only logical. 

Well, last week they came by our street and picked up all the garbage from every house...except our house. Why? Well, I figured that it was some technicality. Perhaps we had too many trash cans or something. Or, maybe we didn't roll them out far enough into the street for their passage to be obstructed enough not to ignore. Or, maybe the fact that we filled each can with 300 pounds of lead, and a family of rats. But no, I think what happened was much more malicious.

They are haters. They didn't like our trash. And they don't like us. They were making a statement. Well, we're going to get them back. First, we called up their supervisors. Yeah, we're tattlers. And, when they come back, we'll have a post-halloween surprise waiting for them. A few dead bodies!!! That'll learn 'em (you love my grammatical correctness).

Chivalry is Dead

I like to help people. I like to do nice things. It's in my nature.

So a couple days ago my friend said her house was ridiculously hot and that she and her room mates had no AC. Well, it just so happened that I had an extra AC unit that wasn't being used. So I offered to bring it over and install it. After they reluctantly accepted my help, I brought it over. Now, mind you, those units are heavy and awkward. I scraped up and bruised my arms in transit. But, I got it to their house.

They are basement dwellers. So I lugged the unit downstairs and looked for a window to put it in. Well, all the window wells were the wrong size. Bummer.  

It was getting late, so I promised to return.  Two days later I found myself there again trying to jury-rig this air conditioner in their abode. However, when I started over to the place in the kitchen where I left it, I was accosted by one of the residents.  She said, in an irritated tone of voice, "Whose is that?"  To which I replied, "Mine." Then she said, "It takes up the space of a whole person, are you going to move it?"  A little bothered, but still in a helpful mood, I said, "Yes, I brought this here to alleviate your heat problem."  Then I creaked over and manhandled it over to the window ledge.  Now I had garnered some negative attention.

As I was trying to put it in, another tenant came behind me asking how it would work, doubting it was a good idea, and left me in a huff.  So after I tried for a while to get it to sit in these undersized windows, and getting no positive support, I decided to stop.  I put the window screen back in (better than it was before), and put the unit in my car to bring it back home.  I hadn't left for more than a couple minutes before my friend text messaged me saying that her room mates were upset.  Apparently while I was trying to put it in the window I stepped on one of her room mates' garden (As it turned out, it was a squash plant that was under-watered, malnourished, and not producing squash).  I apologized of course and told her that I'd get her a new plant (I checked on it the next day and the plant was fine, just with a few mashed leaves). But if that weren't enough, on top of the title of 'garden destroyer' this same room mate claimed that I broke their window (which was a total lie, the screen wasn't completely in the slot, but it was in better than before; she just had probably never checked).  

Either way I was very disinclined to ever offer them my services again.  I went to their house to give of my time, energy, and one of my belongings to provide them with a little comfort.  I would have expected a little appreciation for my effort, but not only did I get none, but I got an ear full of pessimism, irritation, and ultimately was blamed for invented and exaggerated maladies.  It makes me not want to help people.  Or at the very least, not want to help those ladies. 

Chivalry is not dead because men are all jerks, but because women feel inconvenienced by it, or think that they lose their individuality by letting men serve them.  And, it's sad.  I have been accused of all sorts of ridiculous things in the name of chivalry.  All I can say is, ladies, you blew it.

*AC picture taken from this site. Chivalry picture taken from this site.