oh Somerville

While walking down Cherry Street this fine morning for to get some breakfast in Porter I noticed an entire side of the street had been ticketed with the usual white-and-orange tickets, oh so cheerful in their Creamsicle in-trouble-with-the-law kind of way, but each was also accompanied by a bright orange note stating "COURTESY WARNING: This side of the street is not to be parked on during a snow emergency. You will be towed the next time we have a snow emergency if you park on this side of the street."

Now the funny thing is that none of the signs on Cherry St. mention which side is THE FORBIDDEN SIDE. It's a one-way street, so perhaps the right side is supposed to be known as the forbidden side, but what about two-way streets? And, and, and, and.

I just know that last night during a so-called "snow emergency" where we actually had no snow, the city of Somerville must've made out like fucking bandits with these cheery courtesy parking tickets. Considering the city is now ruled by the mayor who made it a campaign promise to tow all cars if they're so much as parked funny, I can only predict this is just a sampling of the delights to come.

Maybe I should just give the car up at this point.


In completely unrelated news, did you know McDonalds has not only trademarked (ah ha!) the phrase "I'm Lovin It", but also the phrase in six other languages? Ah, the global fast-food joint. Fat-feeder to the world.

(no subject)

The grey cat is back on my outside deck. It is snowing and he's leaving little pit-pat tracks all over the place. I have done nothing to encourage or facilitate or in any way make easier the existence of stray cats on my porch, but lately two of them have taken to standing on the couch out there and yowling at each other.

MerowwwwwwWWWWWwwww, one of them will say. MerowwwWWWWWWWWWWwwwwwww, the other will reply. MerowwwwWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWwwwwwww, they'll say in unison, having reached an apparent accord. I think it has something to do with mating, as my spaded-and-noodled indoor cats aren't even remotely intrigued by the cat sounds coming from outside. I did hold Martha up to the window so she could see, in an oddly sadistic experiment (or masochistic, considering whose arms she'd shred should she decide to take a leap) and all she did was go "grrr" very softly and then look away. I suppose it meant "Aw come on, you guys, get a room" (Cana suggested that Martha was saying "Sheesh, kids these days...")

One of the cats is a grey tabby, slightly plump but very stray-looking. The other is a black-and-white tuxedo cat, quite gaunt and stray indeed. I am forcing myself not to even remotely consider giving them names as that will only make the problem worse. If you give the cat a name, it's yours, brother, so if you want to give them names, that's fine by me, but I won't use them. (I know someone whose parents once had a stray grey cat visit their backyard regularly but they were adamant that they not adopt the cat, as they didn't want a cat, so it was never allowed inside. Feeding it outside, however, was A-OK, and so they came to regularly keep kitty in constant supply of cat food and water -- but, following the naming logic, it wasn't their cat because they never named it. It was known simply as "that old grey cat", as in "Oh look, that old grey cat is back in the yard again.")

So these two cats have figured out that my deck is a swell hangout. This does not mean that I will be naming them, or even leaving food out for them, even if that black-and-white kitty is lookin mighty thin indeed in these lean winter times. I can't. Not even leftovers. I already have two cats; I can't support more. If they decide to regularly stay around here, it won't be on my invitation. The grey tabby runs if I unlock the deck door and open it up, but the black-and-white cat stays and stares at me. I have yet to actually open the screen door and make as if to step out on the deck, so we haven't fully tested the cat's human interaction threshold. And again, making contact with these strays is not a good idea.

I'm just glad I haven't heard them actually getting down to the heart of the matter yet. That's yowling that I will interrupt, dangit.

oh hey there were plumbers in the basement today

You could tell because they liked to yell a lot and bang on things. This intrigued the cats very briefly.

I woke up from my nap thrilling like a child on Christmas morning. Was he here? Was Santa here? He didn't forget us, did he? Did he? Only one way to find out, and that's go downstairs, and, and, and, and...

I tried the kitchen sink. After a moment's hesitation and the slightest gurgle -- was I dreaming? -- this substance called water came out of the faucet. AMAZING!

I went into the bathroom and repeated the process with the bathroom sink. INCREDIBLE!

The shower, too, sprang to life after a few pipe-shaking moments. UNBELIEVABLE!

I flushed the toilet. It backed up.

Guess I'm not dreaming afer all!

EDIT: Looks like the toilet overflowing also hit the downstairs neighbor's. They're currently mopping up their office. Oh my god. I am so embarassed. I have not been this mortified in a very long time. This is a terrible way to meet neighbors.