Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Cirque du Soleil

I own a cat.  His name is Hector Ayala.  He is a very inquisitive cat who is also tremendously fearful of loud noises, slippers, and large people.  I also live with a large deafening man.  Hector tends to spring into the air whenever there is something loud or big coming at him.  The large man thoroughly enjoys these kinds of reactions.

One day Hector Ayala, named for The White Tiger from Spiderman comics, was wandering the living room.  He was minding his own business smelling my guitar.  He loves to smell things.  I tend to believe that he has a nose fetish.  So, he was sniffing around, when all of a sudden, the cable went out.  There was a thunderous noise of static coming from the television.  I heard a thud from under the end table.  I muted the gargantuan boob tube and peered around the sofa.  Hector was twitching his head around looking for the source of the mysterious commotion. 


I held back a laugh while watching him walk over to the now muted television.  I waited and watched, which is a great way to discover something wonderful.  As soon as he put his front legs on the TV stand I took the television off of mute.  He leaped into the air and did somewhat of a back flip.  I thought to myself, "Hector would have a lucrative career in the circus."  The thought of becoming a stage mom brought me back to reality.  I decided not to try making millions with an acrobatic cat. 

Hector had worked up the courage to start smelling the TV again.  Stupid cat.  I took it off of mute again and he skyrocketed once more.  This time there was a great roar of laughter coming from my direction.  He gave me a look of pure loathing.  I could tell he was thinking, "You imbecilic human, if ever I develop thumbs, it shall be the end of you."  He is much more eloquent than I. 

I decided to not push my luck anymore with the wondrous sound of static from the television… after the sixth time.  

Monday, October 13, 2008

The Games of Potatoes

My mom died when I was 13 years old, which is probably why I have such a sunny outlook on life.  When people complain about things that don't really seem to matter, I tend to think, "What the crap does this have to do with anything?"

I lived with my grandmother for a short time during my adolescence.  My help would often be requested for things such as vacuuming, taking out the garbage, and cooking.  On one such occasion my grandmother asked me to wash, peel, and cut the potatoes for dinner. 

Smallville was on and I found the lead actor, Tom Welling, to be quite dreamy.  With much grumbling I made my way to the kitchen.  This was a very hard thing for me.  After all, Tom Welling is really beautiful.

I got to the sink and with a great fiery ball of fury building in the pit of my stomach I silently washed the potatoes.  As I was doing this, my grandmother was getting out a pot.  She came to the sink and said, "You don’t need to stand right in the middle of the there.  Other people need to use the sink as well." 

The fire grew.

I finished and began to the peel the potatoes.  She came back to the check on the progress of the boiling water.  She glanced over… there was suddenly an arctic chill in the air.  "You shouldn't push so hard when you peel.  You're wasting too much potato."

Fiery darts suddenly shot forth from my eye and her head burst into flames. The sound of Smallville in the background brought me back to reality.  My mood was no longer victorious but there was defeat in its place.  I could feel the fireball growing. 

I quickly finished peeling started to chop the spuds.  First, I cut them in half around the middle and then in quarters, then eights. 

I heard the sound of slippers on linoleum.  It was grandma again.  I clenched my teeth.  I was hoping she would keep the criticism to herself.  I was stupid then. 

"You're cutting them wrong.  You should cut them lengthwise first!"  She grabbed the knife from me and said, "Oh, I'll just do it myself." 

The fireball extinguished.

I just smiled sweetly to myself as I sat back down to watch the rest of Smallville.  There are always winners in the games of potatoes.  

The End

I love and miss my grandmother.  I feel unbelievably lucky to have had such a weird/wonderful time with her.  She gave me so much to be grateful for including a lot of really funny stories!