Wanna buy a house?

Today is a good day for me and Mr. P. Our redneck (or, "The Nex" for short), crossbow-loving, pick-up truck-driving, back-yard deer-slaughtering, communal-living, late night horseshoe-playing, front-yard-partying, ceaseless dog-barking neighbors have MOVED OUT. Don't know why, but I do know that four couples were camping out periodically in that small house, because that's who packed up and hauled away stuff. It's weird, because they weren't living there all the time, just part of the time. I guess the economy has affected them, too, and they can't afford Skinhead Meeting House, er... I mean, a Community Party House, anymore. Or, Perhaps all the Obama yard signs have driven them away. I dunno, but their confederate flags and deer carcasses are not our problem anymore.

Shutting it down before it starts

Today on the metro, a nice young woman offered me her seat. Figuring it was good karma from my giving up my seat just an hour earlier to an elderly woman, I took it. Then, she introduced herself. Oookay. Then, she said, "I'm actually from Germantown, but I'm out today spreading the news of the Gospel. Are you a believer?"

I started to panic as I rifled through my mental rolodex of excuses. Suddenly, in a moment of unusual clarity, I said, "I'm kind of private about my faith." She looked at me slightly puzzled but responded, "oh, ok." And she was quiet for the rest of the trip.

Wow! That's all it took? I didn't have to be rude, I didn't have to engage in conversation, and I didn't have to line up a bunch of excuses. Because, if I had said, no, then she would have started to try to convert me, if I had said yes, she would have invited me to events, and if I had told her I practiced a different religion, well, you get the picture. There was no right answer. And yet, I found one!

I'm writing about this because I'm proud of myself. See, if I so much as get into a conversation of that nature, before I can say Holy Christ on a Cracker, I'm drinking the kool-aid. I know because it happened when I was living in France. A nice young woman approached me in the metro, started up a conversation, and a few weeks later, I was attended her "cult." Oh - she called it that. But, she didn't bring it up in the first conversation with me, so she was much sneakier.

Whew, I think I dodged a bullet today.

The Lovers, the dreamers, and me

I just saw a wonderful exhibit of Jim Henson's life and work at the Smithsonian, which happily allowed me to revisit the Muppets as well as meet some new characters and learn some things about Henson I didn't know.

For instance, I didn't know he made a lot of commercials in the 60's.

Meet the La Choy Dragon:



I love that the mother is very seriously concerned, and how the store employee extinguishes the burning sign as if that darn dragon sets things on fire every day in that store. (But who's going to pick up all those knocked over cans?)

With another likable and, may I add, creatively designed character, he sells "fabric finish."



How adorable is a medieval knight with irons for feet? So cute that we can overlook the fact that the woman doesn't hear something explode in her living room before she's even out of it.

Ah. I miss Jim Henson. He was some kind of genius. I could devote an entire blog to his work, but I thought I would just share these two lesser known little gems today.

I CAN HAZ WEELZ?

I just got this very swanky cat carrier on wheels free by collecting points from a cat litter. Fresh Step offers free merchandise when you buy their litter (which is good kitty litter, too) and log in your points code on the back of every box. I've been doing it for, like, three years or something now, maybe longer, because I know a while ago I cashed in my points on a kitty bed, which my cat has worn out by now and still loves.

So I was feeling pretty great cashing in another 700 or so points to get a rolling net cat carrier, which I thought would be nice in lieu of the other massive crate that we have to - God forbid- pick up. That crate, and especially the kitty inside it, are heavy.

(I would like to add that Mr. P thinks it pretty funny that I've been so diligent about these darned points, especially when I can't even collect coupons for a grocery store.)

Anyhoo, it came, and I was like, Vinny! Let's give it a spin!



Darned feline is too darned big for darned bag.

The upside? I might be able to use it to shop at the Farmer's Market.