14 August 2006
Caninity and Felinity
You'd be mad too if your brain was exteriorized.
I’ve recently noticed that I have a tendency to ridicule animals. Well, maybe “ridicule” is going too far—I definitely like to laugh at them, though. This explains the monkey obsession. Monkeys are just too much like humans for me to let it go unridiculed. Anyway, the other day I was trying to convince Kris to get a dog.
“It’s either a kid or a dog,” said Kris.
“Okay, a dog.”
“But we need to wait until we have a big yard. I don’t want an inside dog.”
“Oh, come on. We can get a French bulldog. You like French things, don’t you. Here’s a picture of one.”
“It’s hideous. And our apartment is what? Close to 100 square feet? What will the dog do?”
“You don’t buy a bulldog because it does things. You buy it so you can laugh at it.”
“Laugh at it?”
“Yes. Because it’s so hideous.”
“Let’s just have a kid, okay?”
Lately Kris has been laughing at me because I talk to the cat. One of the cats (at the house where we are house-sitting)—her name is Princess—has recently taken up the effort to establish an open dialogue between herself and her new caretakers. Whenever we crack the windows on cool nights, Princess will poke her head through the crack and begin talking to us. Of course, the only word she knows is “Meow.” But Princess has a bit of a nasal quality to her voice, and it ends up sounding like “Now.”
So when she initiates the conversation, I just barrage her with questions like the following:
“When do you want me to do some jumping jacks?”
“Now.”
“Okay. When do you want me to give you some smoked salmon?”
“Now.”
“Got it. When do you want me to bodyslam you?”
“Now.”
“Are you sure? Let’s wait a few minutes.”
“Now.”
“Whatever you say. And when would you like us to remove your vocal chords?”
At this point, Kristen has had enough and closes the window.
02 August 2006
Keep them dog(g)ies rollin'.
This is my dream pet.
Time for an update:
I slipped a disc in my spine last Sunday. It happened as I was bending down to pick up some books before moving to the front of the class to teach a lesson at church. “Hi, for those who don’t know me, my name is Daniel Wood. My wife and I are house-sitting for the Wrathalls until December. I think I just slipped a disc. Today’s lesson is on the Holy Ghost.” That’s how it went. The only way I could abet the pain was by clenching my stomach muscles as hard as possible. You can imagine what I looked like as I tried to teach about a member of the godhead. So I finish the lesson and discover that one of the guys in the class happens to be an osteopath. Incredibly nice guy. He treated me twice for free and wrote me a prescription for some pain killers.
What else? I got a job selling guitars at a music shop in Orem. I’m graduating in two weeks. I’ve been taking advantage of the extra time by reading more than usual. Just finished “Name of the Rose” by Umberto Eco (amazing book!). Just started one book by Viktor Frankl, “The Doctor and the Soul,” as well as two books by Oliver Sacks: “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat,” and “The Island of the Colorblind.” I’m starting GRE prep this week. Leaving for Europe for two weeks in mid-October. We’ll hit Berlin (to visit my sister Elisabeth), Paris, and Rome.
On a sad note: It looks like Auburn, the band I’ve been playing with for the last 2 or 3 years, is dissolving (at least for a while). It was discovered that the singer has nodes on her vocal chords. She is undergoing vocal rest and therapy until things improve. I guess every day must end.
On a happier note, here’s a joke I used to make Kristen laugh today (I have a daily quota): What do you call a Russian who is hesitant to finish school? A stallin’ grad.
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