Thanks But… No Thanks
Um… yeah… I think I’ll pass on having the smear of Pap anywhere near me.
2
Stop, Drop, Roll
What was supposed to be a normal evening of merrymaking (dinner party + yummy food = awesome) became something totally different.
The venue for said dinner party, a very close friend of my mom’s restaurant, had to close down because the store next to it caught on fire. Apparently, something in the store (it was a hardware store) exploded and burst into flames. Fortunately, the restaurant is unmarred by the fire and there have yet to be reports of anybody injured. The explosion was pretty big and loud though so things fell off the walls, plates and other dinnerware broke, etc.
So we put away our party clothes, put on more sensible ones and headed over to lend moral support. The fire was still at it when we got there and I must say, we were pretty disappointed with the firemen in the area. First of all, they actually asked for money when they arrived on the scene. Then, although I don’t expect a rapid fire response, they seemed to lack a sense of urgency because a lot of them were just standing outside, looking at the charred remains of the building. Some were even smoking. Er… okay. Then, they asked my mom’s friend if she would be willing to feed them. She did give them food and they had the gall to ask for rice but then demanded more entrees afterwards since they already devoured them before the rice ever came.
*sigh* It makes me sad that those firefighters would exhibit such appalling behavior.
February 22nd, 2009 | Permalink
Wishful Thinking
A concert’s being held in my house. My house that isn’t my house (those potted topiary-like shrubs are definitely not ours).
Jason Mraz comes on the stage. It’s already night without me noticing and my house’s (that isn’t mine) backyard is filled to capacity with the stage and the audience. Jason starts to sing. Come Lucky, a friend shoves a mic under my nose. I have forgotten a lot of the lyrics but I discover that my voice is absolutely fantastic. Our duet ends with applause.
Jason: So… you come here often?
Me: Yeah. I live here.
He is impressed, natch.
To celebrate the wonderful music we made together, he gives me an autographed hospital bracelet. Flimsy and torn though it does have some unintelligible inscriptions on it. The only thing on my mind is, “I am so going to Plurk about this!”
Then, I wake up.