When I first moved into the Easy Back Apartment, oh.. about 10 years ago, I was petless. And soon I decided that maybe I was mature enough to handle the responsibility of a pet. But what kind to get? At this point, I did not think it was wise to try to get a cat, as it might pester my allergies. [Obviously, I changed my mind about that.] I was researching what type of pet to get. Bunny? Sugar Glider? Chinchilla? Soon, I noticed a small hive like structure on the roof overhang, over my balcony. It was tiny, and around it buzzed three little bees.
"Hello little bees!"
"bzzzzzz"
"Would you like to live here with me and be my pets?"
"bzzzzz"
"Awesome! I shall name you… Banjo! And you, I am going to name Butrous. No, just the one Butrous, you are too small for a double Butrous. And finally, you shall be… Babaganoush. Because I like saying it, that’s why."
"bzzzz"
For a few weeks, the bees and I lived happily. I would come home from work and great the bees, ask them about their day. The never seemed threatened by me or behaved aggressively. But one day, I came home… and the hive was GONE!! Now, I lived on the top floor, the only way to get onto my balcony was through my apartment, or to crawl down, precariously, from the roof. Of course, the three bees were gone as well. They had been beeknapped. I waited for a ransom note. I never received anything. Some maintenance main probably thought he’d knock down the hive with a broom from the roof or something.
I mourned their loss. And not long after, I got Phoebe the Bunny aka: The B. Just one B.
Dan, I am so happy that you brought up wasps. Because it gives me the opportunity to share with you the audio of one of my favorite people I don’t even know… Eddie Izzard. He shall explain to us the difference between Bees and Wasps. Bees are good. Wasps are fuckers.
Enjoy! I heart Eddie!
Author Archives: Jodi
Bugs make a fine pet: Spiders
I.
A week or so ago I walked into the bathroom to see a ENORMOUS spider in my bathtub. It was trying it’s 8 legged best to get out, but kept sliding down. Luckily, I had taken a shower the night before. I don’t like spiders. I’ve been fearing them for, oh… as long as I can remember. [side note: have you noticed that spiders are less scary when they are lower than you, like on the bottom of the tub, vs. up higher than you, like the corner of the shower, where they jump down upon your neck, bite you, and kill you dead?] So I did the smart thing.
“Baby Kitty! Pruuuu. Pruuuudence! Baby Kitty! Pruuuuuu!! Help me please!”
It took her about five minutes to amble in, because I had already fed her breakfast, so there was no need for her to pretend that she was obeying me.
“What?” her little kitty face expressed.
“That! Look! No, over here, in the bathtub.. no, not the sink, get over here… never mind, I’ll lift you. See? See the spider? Git it! Go git it!”
To her credit, Pru did stand on the edge of the tub and make her little hunting kitty yips. Then she jumped down into the tub, and proceeded to sit there watching the spider crawl all around her. I told her I wanted it “taken care of” by the time I got home from work.
When I got home, there was the spider, in the bathtub. He was very still, and looked a little peeked. But upon poking at him with a barrette, I found he was just a little worse for wear.
“Pru, what’s up with this? You were supposed to take care of him.”
“hmmm… oh, that’s Nigel. I’m keeping him. He’s fun.”
“You’ve named him Nigel?”
“Yup… we’re only making plans.. . for Nigel.”
Pru hopped down into the tub and started batting Nigel around a bit. I was actually starting to feel sorry for it. She was playing with her food. Brutal.
I came back later to find, unlike some cats, Pru does not eat bugs. She only beats them to death. Slowly. Over several hours. I gave Nigel a water burial.
II.
Currently, I have a little pet spider that lives on, not in, my car. She’s a tiny golden spider I have named Trixie. And she lives around the windshield. Every morning, when I am driving to work, I think that surely she has found somewhere safer to live. But no, she comes crawling out onto the glass, and waves a little leg at me. She’s learned not to get caught up there when I get on the freeway, however. That makes her curl up into a tight little ball. Poor thing. She gets under cover now, when I start to drive fast.
Trixie is free to live on my car, as long as she doesn’t come in, we are good. I kinda like saying “hi!” to her in the mornings.
In the next installment of Bugs Make a Fine Pet, we’ll talk about my three pet bees who were mysteriously beenapped from my porch. Never to return. I still miss them. After that, I’m done with the bugs because I don’t really like them very much.
Book and design stuff
I’ve been very bad about updating my books I am reading section. As well as the books I’ve read page. I just updated that with 4 books I’ve recently finished. And added a book down below that I am about to start: The Historian. I’m also re-reading a book I love:
“Bird by Bird : Some Instructions on Writing and Life” (Anne Lamott)
I’m sure if I talk up this book one more time… well, just take my word for it. Even if you don’t write, it’s delightful.
I have one final thing to tweak with the redesign, and I cannot figure it out. It’s driving me nuts. But if you go to any category archive page, you can see the titles and underlines do not behave as other pages. Even the they all use the same styles. I really cannot figure it out. It’s driving me batty.
And with that, I will take my batty brain to bed.
Amelia and the Phonetic Code
“What?! You are kidding me! Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot!”
Amelia: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?
Me: I don’t know….
Amelia: W T F
Me: Ohhh! What the Fuck. That must his way of saying “What the fuck?”
Amelia: Sierra! Hotel! Uniform! Tango!
Me: Uniform! Papa!
Amelia: hee! Uniform papa.
VERY IMPORTANT NEWS ANNOUNCEMENT: The monkee will be moving…. tomorrow!!
I do think I am moved to do a little dance!
Little kid shoes
I have fairly small feet, size 6.5. This means I have an extra shoe shopping option – the children’s dept. Yes, I can wear little kid shoes. The sandals I am wearing today, I bought for my trip to NYC two summers ago. Because I knew it would be hot as hell, and I would be walking a lot. When I bought them, AlmostCertainlyGoingToEndUpEvilMaggie was two and she got the exact same pair. Hers were pink and purple, tho. I got the boys navy blue option. They were about $10 cheaper than the adult version would have been. I’ve often purchased converse sneakers from that dept. as well. Nordstroms.
I wore them today wondering – would little kid shoes give me little kid spirit? And if so, is it really my little kid shoes or my harlot red painted toenails? or both? Hard to say. Should have done a control study with just one or the other factor…
Reasons why you have to love Evildeb:
A co-worker of ours quit a couple of months ago, moved up to Vancouver BC with her husband and had a baby girl. She is coming down to visit later this month, and bringing the baby, so we are going to have… yes… wait for it… a party! I swear we have a party for everything. Why, today I got some cake… I am not even entirely sure why. I think it was because someone came back from sabbatical. I happened to be in the right place at the right time. And, to be honest… I had two pieces. But they had fruit! it was really a fruit tart! Anyhoo, back to this party, it’s a good excuse for one, I think. Evildeb decided to have a high tea party. And this is what she said in the email informing our team.
We’re going to have high tea. I know you boys will love it because it will give you an opportunity to exercise your pinky fingers in new ways.
You’ve got to love her. I wonder if we get to play dress up, first.
Then and Now: Episode Tree
I can’t say that this was ever one of my favorite breakup songs. I never even saw the movie. [But then, I never liked Journey’s “Open Arms” either, that was supposed to be the quintessential make-out song of my youth. ] I think I would have turned to Depeche Mode if my heart was breaking, back in 1984, most likely. Nonetheless, I can remember snatches of the video for it.
Then
Against All Odds – Phil Collins 1984
Mr. Moon is actually to thank for brining this week’s Now song. I like the spookiness in the beginning of this version. Then, somewhere in the middle, it goes almost “Mary Tyler Moore theme song” on you….in a good way. And then kind of poppy and spooky again. [Hey… what do you want from me, I’m not a music reviewer] Anyway, I like it.
Now
Against All Odds – Postal Service 2004
I just want to say that being chosen as this month’s Miss August is like a compliment I’ll remember for as long as I can.
There are all different ways people can leave you. Some drift away slowly, you can feel yourself becoming more invisible to them, as whatever allure you used to hold for them fades. Some pass away after long lives lived fully. Some pass away suddenly, leaving great shock waves behind. And some just decide their ride with you ends here, this is where they are getting off and, oh, here is your heart, sorry if it’s a little torn.
This seems to be a prevailing theme of July for me this year, so I am putting you all on notice now, the fun stops Sunday July 31st. That is when the Get Out of Jodi’s Life Scott Free No Questions Asked card is revoked. After that, you try to leave without my say-so, I will hunt you down and pin you against the wall like a butterfly specimen in a bug box, playing Phil Collins music at you, at high volumes, over and over until you are able to see the error of your ways.
Do I make myself clear? Good.
EDITED TO ADD: Ok, perhaps I should point out that I was referring to Phil Collins’ solo work, particularly in the 90’s, which I find to be very grating. But some of you may like his later stuff. So the plan has been revised to use whatever music fits the situation. For example, if you wanted to break me, you’d play the Grateful Dead or Steely Dan at me. So now, the plan is, I will find your musical button, your musical achilles’ heel, and use it against you. If you leave, without my permission, that is. That makes more sense, doesn’t it?
Sure, they can’t handle punch cards, but old people love the Internet.
Last week, I went into my am/pm for my usual 44 ounces of Dr. Pepper. I noticed that Loud Happy Edgar #14 had a small animal carrier behind the counter.
“What’s in the carrier?” asked I.
“AAIIYYY …..I SHOW YOU!”
She opened up the hatch to show me four tiny baby birds, not old enough to be on their own. But I knew what they were, because this was not the first time she had done this.
“Baby finches?”
“YES! THEIR MOMMA DIED.” She made the appropriate sad face, to show her sorrow. ‘BUT!! THEY ARE SO GOOD! TODAY, THEY DO THE WINGS!!” And she bent her arms and flapped her elbows, like stubby baby bird wings.
“Did you show them how to do that? You did, didn’t you?”
“OOOHHH …. MAYBE!” And she laughed.
One morning, I could not sleep, so I decided to go into work at 6am. I drove to my am/pm, only to find that it did not open until 6. I didn’t know you could have an am/pm that was not open 24/7! The horror. So I went down the street to a newly opened Chevron Em Stop thingy. I had checked them out previously, and knew they had what I needed. He who shall be known as Chatting Geek Edgar #17, looked at my shirt.
“You’re what? You’re doing what?”
“I’m blogging this.”
“Blogging… huh… I don’t what that means.”
“Really? That surprises me.”
“Do you have a card? A punch card?”
“What is this punch card of which you speak?”
“Buy four and get the fifth drink free.”
“MWAHAHAHHAAA!!!”
Suckers. I’ll put them out of business by the end of this year. They’ll rue the day they gave me a punch card for Dr. Pepper. However, they are weekend/backup Dr Pepper source only. Loud Happy Edgar #14 is worth a million punch cards. Easily.
Bruise tattoo and strawberries
I have a bruise on my left forearm. It’s lurid in color, and larger than a silver dollar. It’s a painful bruise, and underneath it, there is a lump. I have no idea how I got this bruise, but out of the corner of my eye, as I was writing tonight, I could not help think I had gotten a new tattoo. How very Popeye of me.
When a recipe says that you need strawberries “hulled,” that just means you cut out those stems, right? You don’t then go to cut the strawberries into piece? It’s not a difficult recipe I am following, but I’d hate to screw it up from the get go.
I find redesigning my blog very soothing.
And I needed an excuse to use my Shag font. And my favorite color. Plus, I got tired of all the white.
I’m still tweaking it. I have all the comment and archive pages to sort out.
Bravo everyone on your 50 word fictions. They are my favorite thing about Fridays, other than the fact of Friday itself. Being what it is. Traditionally.