Hey, I've got an idea

Dear City of Chattanooga (and all other muncipalities with parking meters),

Please learn how to make parking meters that accept pennies.

For one thing, parking meters in general are a pain and a rip-off. A quarter = 20 minutes? I remember when a quarter was worth half an hour, sonny. I even remember when I could park at Coolidge park for free (not a tough memory to conjure since that was like last year, but still.)


All I want to do is run in Figgy's or Ankars and grab a quick lunch, but if I am out of change, no such luck. I must drive all the way down Broad Street to the Subway (because the one downtown requires change for meters too.) This is a plastic world, folks. I almost never have cash. Which, conversely, means I almost never get change.

Except, there are ALWAYS pennies.


Everywhere, lurking. Because there is no use for them (no offense, Honest Abe.) I have been known (on occasion) to throw them away when cleaning out a purse because they're so basically useless and I don't want to carry them around.

HOWEVER, if I could put them in parking meters -- Oh, the utility! How much easier my life would be, and how coppery-clutter-free! Zip down to Figgy's, pop 10 shiny pennies in the meter, the city is satisfied, I am satisfied, it would be genius.


Why is it that machines reject our coppery little friends? No coke machines, no bubblegum machines, (obviously) no parking meters...what gives? Why do machine-makers hate on Abraham Lincoln? Maybe somebody knows this. Walker, you're an accountant, any ideas? Amanda Youell, you read this on occasion and are very smart/work with numbers, perhaps you can help?

Consistant blogger I am not

Saturday night, we went to this festival/fundraiser in town to celebrate Jason's birthday, which officially happened yesterday (happy birthday to Jason!)

The festival is called Bella Sera, and involves lots of people strolling around one of the riverfront parks, armed with a wineglass and hopefully the phone number of a cab company (or, as in my case, an apartment within walking distance.)

Your ticket to the event entitles you to tapas from five different restaurants (who were all set up under tents along the sidewalk) and all the wine you care to slosh into your glass. The event's proceeds go towards a local organization called Endeavors, which seeks to help people who've been released from prison get their lives back together and get on a positive path.

The evening began clear and warm, and as the sun set over the river, folks from all around gathered under the trees to taste yummy things and chat. My favorite food item from the evening was one I already knew I liked. I don't care who you are, the chicken tortilla soup from Taco Mamacita is AMAZING. They give you a bowl containing neat little piles of fresh ingredients, like avacado, tomatoes, some sort of tasty Mexican cheese, lime and cilantro. The server then pours steaming broth over the contents of the bowl, creating a delicious fresh soup. Their guacamole is also pretty amazing. I'd say my favorite wine of the night was Riesling, which makes my wine tastes disappointingly girly. I tried to drink red but I just plain don't like it.

After picking up our third round of tapas, we sat down at a table with several people we didn't know. Later, we ran into one couple, and the guy (we'll call him Jim) goes "hey it's our neighbors!" His girlfriend goes "um, those aren't our neighbors..." and we all kind of laughed. Then the guy is like "NO from the TABLE," which was true enough. We later sat down with them again. We learned that Jim and his girlfriend (we'll call her Karen) and their friend, the vegan (we'll call her Kate) are entertaining.

Jim has a very distinctive accent, combination southern drawl and someone very, very chill. In response to queries regarding what he does for a living, Jim tells us "I make teeth." To the understanding follow-up question of "how did you get into that?" he offered the clarifying explanation that he formerly worked in a tattoo shop, but doing piercings.

Karen asked if we both lived in town, and upon finding out that Jason lives in Atlanta, all three of them made faces like they'd smelled something dead and chorused "WHY??" (coincidentally, he received this response not just from this group, but from almost every person we talked to at the event. I found this amusing and edifying.)

Jim learned that it was Jason's birthday, and when he heard Jason's new age, he stared at him for a second and then said "dude...I don't know what the h*** you're eatin', but I want some." This was flattering for Jason and amusing for all. (Mild expletive abbreviated for curse-sensitive readers.) It turned out that Karen, Jim's girlfriend, is a nurse, so we consulted her about Jason's sprained ankle. She examined it and began explaining proper care for such a sprain (/ligament damage), all while Jim is interjecting with comments like "dude, no, don't listen to that. you're FINE. just have a couple drinks and you won't even be able to tell. Ice it? Naw. This is just a bunch of malarky."

Eventually we launched into a discussion with Karen regarding swine flu, and she was adament that when a vaccine is available, everyone should get vaccinated, because last time there was a swine flu (in like the 1920's), it went away and then came back even worse. As you can imagine, Jim found this ridiculous also. His solution to avoiding infection?

"Drink scotch and don't wash your hands. I guarantee it."

You heard it here first, folks.

A short story, or, sometimes cats are dumb.

Francis, feline though he may be, is fascinated by water. He loves nothing more (besides looking out the window) than drinking out of the running sink. He watches in fascination while I am washing dishes (this may be more because this action is so rare due to lack of dishwasher that he is shocked by it.) He waits patiently each morning (sometimes batting at the curtain or sticking his head in to signal that he is losing patience) while I shower so that he can explore the empty tub. Ordinarily, I let him hop in there after I'm done, he walks around, attacks the shower curtain a little, and leaves.

I must provide the caveat that my tub is currently draining slower than it ought - I need to get some draino. But that is not the point of this tale. So I have recently just been shoo-ing him away from the shower til all the water is drained out. (You might be able to see where this is heading.)

So this morning while I am brushing my teeth, Francis manages to sneak into the bathroom undetected, thanks to his cat stealth. (*shout out to anyone who remembers the episode of the O.C. where Seth gets drunk and then claims to be "stealth" before falling across Ryan's car.) I am brushing away happily when I hear the following:

"SPLASH"

Curiousity, as they say, kills the cat - or, in this case, severely dampens him. I turned to see that Francis was frozen halfway between sitting and standing, with an expression on his face that said "what the..." (Not that he should have been surprised at the outcome of his decision given his usual habit of staring into the tub at the water draining before leaping in. As noted in the title, cats are sometimes dumb.)

He then attempted to sit, acting as though he had meant to jump into a giant puddle. He quickly reconsidered this and decided to try and get his footing to leap out, but the water made this a real challenge. By this point I had rinsed the toothpaste out of my mouth (didn't want to swallow the stuff and be poisoned - priorities) and got a towel to capture the cat, who lept from the tub into said towel. I then spent ten minutes rubbing him with the towel, then drying his tail, legs, and half his tummy with the hairdrier (in attempt to prevent damage to our new white bedspread.) You can imagine how much we both enjoyed this.

I didn't even bother trying to explain why I was slightly late to work this morning.

Smiles all around

This story from cnn.com made me so happy I just had to post it. It contains:

A) minor league baseball players
B) old people in assisted living homes
C) general happiness and delight

Hope it makes your day like it did mine!

It's almost Friday, right?

Big Red is great chewing gum. At least as far as flavor is concerned. But am I the only one that feels like I'm causing real damage to the interior of my mouth every time I chew it? I think there's gums missing now. I mean, there are pictures of flames on the package, maybe they're being literal.

A second ago I was looking at my to-do list, and realized it was kind of funny. It says the following:

-Zoo --> photo of Hank the chimp
-Little Richard
-Photos of "stars" for Dancing with the Stars Chattanooga
-Pops on the River --> calendar (fireworks pic.?)

One might easily fall under the impression that I'm running a three-ring circus. Especially when combined with the fact that there are high school baseball and softball players strutting around in the hallways in their uniforms.

Last night I went up to my friend Katie's [gorgeous] house because she's started selling Stella & Dot jewelry, which you do by having little parties. The jewelry is SO cute (see below) and the prices are great. I don't know if when you order from the website you can like put in a sales rep.'s name, but if you order some tell them Katherine Watson sent you!

Short one today, but that's about all I've got...

Francis update

For those of you who are eager to see Francis in his altered state, I have to say that we went conservative and he ended up getting just a trim, as opposed to the full-on lion cut. I know. I was a little disappointed too, but in retrospect, I don't think his hair is fluffy enough for a lion cut to be truly impressive. But we might try it out next summer. My boss was very disappointed that I did not bring in photos of his new 'do, but really, if you're not used to looking at him it probably isn't very remarkable. He kind of looks like this now:

(This is not Francis, but a cat very similar to him in regards to color and current hair style.)

He now just pretty much looks like a short-haired cat, except his tail which is still long and fluffy (by request.) He's got such a lovely tail and he loves to unfurl it and parade around with it waving behind him, I would have hated for it to be reduced to a creepy rat-esque state. He looks much slimmer now, which I am pleased about because he is more kitten-like. And the choppy nature of a cat haircut is still kind of funny to look at. I'll attempt to post some actual Francis photos later.

The Friday Afternoon Post

Ahh, Friday. Friday has such a festive air about it - it's like a small version of that feeling of joy and anticipation you have on the last day of school before summer break. It helps if the day is sunny and delightful. This Friday, at least in Chatt-town, cannot seem to make up its mind. It's cloudy and grey, wait - no the sun is shining, was that thunder? now it's monsooning, now it's clear and sunshiney again & not a cloud in the sky, oh wait - cloudy again. So tricky, weather. Making my Friday feeling fluctuate.

Today is the day for young Francis the cat to get his hairs cut. I know, I know. But he's got this really long thick coat, and lately he's taken to sleeping either on the cool tiles in the kitchen or on top of the glass coffee table, directly under the ceiling fan. Given my window air conditioners, and the fact that I run them as little as possible because I am cheap, I fear that he is sweltering. He is bearing it nobly, only kind of complaining, but I feel bad for him. So, I went to his vets at the Cat Clinic (they also groom - these people REALLY like cats) to consult, and they recommended a cut.

Now, when we were in middle and high school, Lisa Swafford (now Vanderwall) and her family had a cat whose name was Kristen Faith Swafford. Kristen was one of those real kinds of cats, and she had big blue eyes and beautiful luxurious white fluffy fur. Very long white fluffy fur. Every spring, Kristen would get her long fluffy fur shorn so that she would not spontaneously combust in the heat of a southern summer. She was moderately stand-off-ish when she had her full coat, but after her trim, I remember she just acted embarrassed. She would skulk around the edges of a room, and hide behind furniture when possible. No one could catch her. Her cut looked something like this:
(this is not Kristen, but the photo of someone called misplacedparadox on flickr.)

As you can see, this look could be somewhat amusing. Maybe not for the cat, but for the owner and other humans. I wasn't sure about committing to something this drastic though (what if instead of funny Francis ended up looking like a giant bald rat?) I ended up telling them just to give him a trim, which they said is sometimes hard to make look normal, and if it looks weird, go ahead with the full-on lion. I am very interested to see what he looks like/if he still speaks to me when I go pick him up after work.