Words, Words, Words

August 10, 1999

The problem with my on-line journal is that entire days go by without me doing anything interesting. I've noticed that the authors of the most frequent journals tend to have

  1. A spouse
  2. Pets
  3. An interesting job
  4. A boring job they can make fun of
  5. Friends
  6. A life

Clearly this gives them an unfair advantage. And it can't be coincidence that so many of them have pets; obviously they're adopting animals just so they'll have something to write about. I couldn't do that. If I got a pet it would have to be something low-maintenance, like goldfish. My brother-in-law has an aquarium which is scummy and silty and reportedly one or two of the fish are still alive, so I know it's not much work. I even went so far as to prepare a few anecdotes ("Goldie pooped in my slippers again. I can't figure out how she finds her way from the tank to the bedroom--she is so smart."), but I'm worried that experts in actual fish behavior may be able to spot technical inaccuracies. Also, my condo has a no-pets clause.

So instead I've decided to make up anecdotes about my stuffed teddy bear, Floppy. He's even less maintenance than goldfish. Plus he has his own theme song:

He's Floppy the Purple Bear <toot toot!>
He's Floppy the Purple Bear!
He's one in a trillion
That Ursus vermilion
He's Floppy the Purple Bear! <toot toot!>

This would be a better song if vermilion meant "purple", but for a bear it's not bad.

Floppy the Purple Bear

Photo by Tom Powers

# # #

There's a severe drought in Maryland right now. They've posted signs in the bathrooms at work that read something like this:


Every other sink in the lavatory has been turned off due to the moratorium.

Thanks for your cooperation.

So now if you want to wash your hands you'll have to...use a different sink. That'll really cut down on water usage, all right.

# # #

A few months ago the condo management decided to inspect every apartment in the building to see if we were breaking any rules. I got a note telling me that I needed to get more carpets. Now, I approve of the rule that 75% of the floor space has to be carpeted, but I always thought I was an exception, not because I'm special (although I am), but because I live on the first floor. So a good argument could be made that I don't actually need carpets, if only I weren't a mathematician with an exaggerated respect for rules. (ME: "You're wrong because...well, actually you're right...crap.")

My new carpets look good, except for one problem: they have fuzz all over them. Periodically I scuff the carpet with my feet to roll the fuzz up into little clumps, which I throw out. I figured that when the carpet comes out of the factory there must be all these tiny mini-threads buried in the nap that work their way out as I walk on it and turn into fuzz. Except I've been getting rid of the fuzz for a while now and it keeps coming back. So after I wrote tonight's entry I finally realized that it isn't the carpet at all:

I've spent the last four months walking on teddy bear crap.

Home Page| Main Journal Page| E-Mail| Introduction| Previous Entry| Next Entry