Story of the Day 12/ 21/ 2012

Today may be the end of the world, or , at least, the end of the Mayan calendar, but it was also a beautiful wedding, the one we went to, this morning.

On the way home we had to stop and buy gas. It was either that or get out and push the car.
Luckily, there were gas stations open.
It is cold out, and windy, and there is ice and snow everywhere.
Leaving the gas station, pulling out into traffic, I said to my son, Ely, "This is a real Story of the Day" to which he replied, "It sure is!"

When we got to the gas station, I got out and ran my charge card through. Then I removed the nozzle and pushed for the regular grade of gas.
And tried to fill my tank...but the pump was stuck.
A moment later, a young man ( whom it took me a minute to recognize as working for the station) appeared and started trying to help me.
In accented, but good English, he asked me what the problem was. Then he tried the pump, again, and again. Then, after realizing somethings as actually wrong, he apologized profusely, and told me , apologetically, that I would need to use another pump.
I took my car over to another pump- which involved backing and moving forward, and he appeared again and tried to do everything for me. He pumped the gas, topped it off, and then replaced the nozzle on the pump.
Then, the pump wouldn't print the recipe. He apologetically informed me that I would have to go inside to do that.
He told me that he was sorry it was such bad weather. I told him he needed a scarf.
I started off to the inside.
He followed.
He explained to the man behind the cash register what I needed, and then he handed me the receipt.
This was all being watched by my incredulous oldest son, Ely. My younger son was asleep in the backseat.

As I was pulling away, my son made some remark about how unbelievable that was
and not just because he lives in New York. You see, while the station attendant was waiting on me hand and foot and fuel pump, he was also blatantly ignoring all of the other dozen customers.
My son was amazed that this was a full service gas station, since those are rare, if they even still exist.
I told him that it wasn't. It wasn't a full service gas station.


He, being Ely, asked, "Do you think it is because of how you are dressed?"

"Of course," I replied.

You see, we were at wedding. A very lovely wedding
On the day the world ends. Or was supposed to end, or maybe is still supposed to end, according to the Mayan calendar. Although, the Mayans didn't believe that, just some fringe folks who can't conceive of restarting calendars.

And this date was picked for the wedding, on purpose.
By a rather fun couple.
Who requested that we attire ourselves, for the wedding, in our Halloween costumes.
And, I think they had assumed I would wear my nun costume.


But I didn't'.

Instead, I wore a very lovely shalwar kameez.
Which, as I explained to my son, told us that the young man from the gas station's mother had raised him well, to help little old ladies from his native country.

Even though he must have been bit surprised by my native , to here, accent

Story of the Day 12/ 11/ 2012

Aaron and I were outside of Costco.
We had gone there to get new ear molds made for him.

If you are unfamiliar with the term, you might think we were having latex molds made of his ears so that he can play a Vulcan in an upcoming film, but ear molds are the soft piece that fits in the ear canal and attaches ( by tubing) to the hearing aid.
They last a year or more, if you are lucky.
If you leave them on the back seat of the car in the to sun, they need to be replaced. They also crack and fall apart after a while.
Aaron's have cracked, and he needs new ones. We made it past a year, so we are doing well.

When we got to Costco, I realized that Aaron was only wearing one of his hearing aids.
"Where is your other hearing aid?"
"I dont' wear it."

I had actually realized that. I am not sure why I asked, but I still thought that we should get him new ear molds for both . Although, at $40 a pop, I could see just getting new ear mold for his left hearing aid. The one he wears.

"Don't you get any benefit at all from the right hearing aid?" I ask him.
"Oh yeah, I wore it recently when I did standup. It was a big help."

I am trying to figure this out. Noisy bars, which is where stand up comedy performances take place are not good places to use hearing aids.
"It was helpful?"

"Yeah," my tall little boy answered," I didn't put the ear mold in all the way, so there was some feedback. Not a lot. I don't' think anyone who wasn't near me could hear it, because it was noisy.
" But, anyhow, I said, 'I'm Deaf' and then I put the microphone up close to the sharing aid and it squealed, and I got a lot of laughs."

I am trying very hard to decide if the hearing aids were worth the expense for a laugh. And if it is worth it to get that second ear mold for the extra $40.

"Not only that," my son added, "but I did it a second time, right after the laughs died down, and they laughed again."

He is thinking of doing this, again, in the future.
So, maybe I should buy him the second ear mold for that hearing aid, after all.

Story of the Day 12/ 3/ 2012

I was at the store with friend of mine, who is Deaf.
I was interpreting what the cashier had said, when the cashier who, judging by his accent is a native Hoosier, asked, "So, you speak German?"

My friend's response was exactly what I was thinking; so I voiced, "German?"

"You know, with your hands."

My friend and I were very glad for the explanation, but also unsure what to do with it.

Story of the Day 11/ 4/ 2012

Shit happens.
Even in the best of families.

Ely called, this evening. We had just finished dinner, but were still conveniently located around the table discussing movie plots.

Ely has a project that is due and he needed a title for it. After a few minutes of rumination, it occured to him that it was easier to call home and ask the 4 of us for help in coming up with a title, than to spend hours slamming his head up against the wall trying to think of one.

Because of the topic, he had great faith that we would come through with a good , workable title. You see, it is our area of expertise.
Potty humor.
More specifically, poop. Seagull poop.

Ely has done a project on composting it in a way that will benefit birds, nature and the people trying to use the pooped on area.
Who says that none of us are interested in public service?
It took about 14 seconds after Ely explained what he needed for us to start tossing out names.
It would have taken less time, but we had to interpret what Ely was saying on his end of the cell phone to Aaron and Sraha, who are deaf.

Among the titles we threw out were:

Party poopers.
The poop deck.
Harry Potty
Poop Poop dee doo
It's for the Birds
Aye, aye, Captain Feces

And, after hearing that " Feces" was not the preferred term, and that Ey was using the term " Guano" in his report,
the award winner, which was proposed by Sarah:

Guano Happens.

Story of the Day 11/ 20/ 2012

My son, Aaron, took my daughter to the library.
I have to specify which son, so the other one doesn't kill me for implying it could have been him. Not the part about going to the library, but the rest of it.

Aaron is the son that is 6'3" and has a black velvet kippah (yarmulke) and tzitzit (ritual fringed garment the fringes of) which he wears outside his clothes. In other words, he looks like a religious Jew.

There is a self-check out line , and my son had swiped his library card and then he realized there was a box of bookmarks that had a sticker saying "Adult Bookmarks".
He made some comment to the librarian asking if you had to be an adult to take them .
"Yes, you have to be over 18."

My son looked at the first item pictured- a book whose cover showed a man and a woman and a very interested Rottweiler.
According to Aaron, Sarah looked intrigued by it.
Aaron made some sort of comment to his sister about it being so funny. He thought it looked like a 3-way.

The librarian saw the cover ask said, "Oh, don't get that one out. I read it and it was awful."

Aaron was a bit....surprised, both that the librarian was giving critique on this particular book and also that she would admit to having read it.

Story of the day 11/ 13/ 2012

The world has ended.

I have friends who will be getting married this December. On December 21st, in the morning.They chose this date because that is the day that the world ends, according to the Mayans, who didn't actually say that, but whose calendar stops after that date.
But I do not have to wait for December 21st, or for December 22nd.
It has already happened.

I have managed to break my $59 camera.
The camera was actually $69, but they gave me a $10 gift certificate for CVS, when I bought it. Or maybe it was Walgreens.
As you can see, I have tremendous brand loyalty, or store loyalty or something.

The poor little camera served me very well for quite a while.
Aaron got to use it when he was in Israel. That is because he refused to pack the $69 camera I bought for him, the one that did not have the $10 gift certificate; and , then, after he had gotten to Israel, he realized that maybe he did want camera.
I was not going to mail the new one to him, because it couldn'' be insured for loss, so I mailed my older one to him.
That same inexpensive camera has taken lots of strange pictures of beautiful nieces and nephews, not so many of the nephews, not because they were not equally beautiful, but because there were not very many of them- of nephews, that is. Not in comparison to nieces.
And it took pictures of my own slightly odd children.
Then it was dropped one too many times, probably while in my purse or jacket.
I am guilty.

So, now I have find a new camera.

I thought about it for a bit.
Three days.
I decided that I really just wanted another camera just like it.
After all, I was used to it.
And I don't' like change.
As in REALLY don't' like.....
And with that camera I knew what all the buttons did and how to put new batteries in and take the memory card out.
And, it was great price.

Except, it wasn't.
I logged on to Amazon.com which is the mecca of home shoppers everywhere, including Tibet, just in case you wanted to know.
I made that up, but I bet it is true.

So, I logged into Amazon and , gasp, horror of horrors, found out that my nice little camera actually sells for $189.
On sale.

I had one thought:
Ebay!
The same. Same camera, same not so low price.

I then decided to look at similar cameras, more in my price range.
And there weren't any.

So, if you happen to spot me, a week from Friday, at 5:30 in the morning, in a crowd of Black Friday shoppers, it will not be because you had one to many glasses of wine on Thursday, even though I am normally allergic to both "normal" stores and crowds: it will be cause I need a camera, for $59. Or $69.
Preferably witha $10 gift card.

Story of the Day 11/ 16/ 2012

My husband has a number of good attributes.
He is sweet.
Last night, he said to me, "You look pretty!"

I was wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants that have a slight tear in one knee. It is only slight. I would sew it , but the fabric is starting to go and I know it won't hold. But I also figure it isn't' quite"gone" and can get a few more wears out of it.
And a pink fuzzy sweatshirt. It is pink which is why I sleep in it.
I decided, years ago, that I am allergic to pastel pink.
I am sometimes amazed I can even like people who are older than 5 and wear that color, but I do.
Because, you see, pastel pink makes me break out in hives.

I once had a pastel pink sweater. I even wore it.
I didn't have a choice. It was a gift from my in-laws.
They didn't know of my aversion for pastel pink.
They also didn't' know my size.
It was a 2XL.
At the time, I weighed 107 lbs.
At any rate, it was a bit...large.
But this was a gift from my in-laws, so I wore it.
Twice.

The reason I wear this pink thing, although only to sleep in and never out in public, is because, although it is pastel pink, it isn't.
Fortunately, someone laundered it in hot water, probably, with something dark.
Now it is more of a mottled dusty rose, which is close enough to a pastel pink that I will not wear it out of the house, but not so close that I cannot sleep in it.

I had even brushed my hair, that morning. Several hours and two changes of clothiers earlier.
At least, I am pretty sure I had brushed my hair.

And my husband said,"You look pretty."

I replied, You need new glasses."

To which my husband ,responded, "Yes, I do."

I am hoping he does not realize that his response cast his first comment into.......
Did I forget to mention that he is also honest?