My upstairs neighbors who are fairly noisy (really they just seem to stomp around a lot, especially their kids as they go up and down the stairs) are out of town, so it generally means it's quieter. They left a door open on their patio and the wind keeps hitting it against the railing. It makes a pretty healthy gong sound at pretty much any hour. I think I might be mentally ill if I say this… but I think I'd rather have the neighbors than their door.
Somebody sneezed today and I wondered what my obligation to say "bless-you" was to them, considering the pysical distance and people between us. With that in mind, and in the spirit of the superb blog "Indexed" I came up with this:
I'm aware that there could be several more factors in this, but this is a good basis.
Despite the fact that I publish things on the internet and allow pretty much anybody to read it, I'm still a fairly private person. This year is about to come to a close and I've experienced far more than I've talked about on this blog.
Read more...I've never been to Chuck E. Cheese's. One time I was going to go to a birthday party there for my friend, David Rose. It was going to be really cool and I was pretty excited for it. The morning of the party I woke up and was sick, so I stayed home from school. I was feeling better as the day went on, especially knowing that the party was that evening. The heartbreaking moment came shortly before the party was supposed to start:
If you're too sick to go to school, you're too sick to go to the party.
Life is so unfair. Had I seen the movie at that point in my life I might have been thinking of the part in Monty Python and the Holy Grail where they're told to "Bring out your dead!" with the one guy who's "Not dead yet" but has been written off by the other man. I had been mistaken for dead by my parents and I could see them paying the man dressed as Mr. Cheese to hit me on the head to make sure I really felt the pain. Sure, David Rose's dog bit and I didn't really like going to his house for that reason… but the party was at Chuck E. Cheese's, not his house. Yeah, I was sick earlier in the day, with a fever and everything… but to deny a child from their dreams of going to a place with nasty, overpriced pizza, and rigged games that don't put out nearly enough tickets to get that flippin' sweet toy that costs 500 tickets? That's just mean. I guess if this is how I feel deprived a child I'm not doing too bad.
I was loading groceries into the car the other day and a pair of butt cheeks caught my eye. While his mother was on her cell phone, this little kid had gotten out of the car, dropped trou, and proceeded to urinate on the rear-left tire of his own car. He finished quickly, pulled back up his pants, got back in the car… and his mom was still on her cell phone. I'm glad the kid did that and not me. More interested in her conversation than her son… she her car deserves to get peed on.
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