These Things Don't Happen

Yesterday afternoon, I was on my weekly conference call with some folks in the New York University office. About 20 minutes into the conversation, one of the NYU folks made a comment about some sort of thunderous noise that seemed to shake the building. But they laughed it off that they must be exaggerating. Two minutes later, the fire alarm went off in their building, and the call was cut short as they evacuated.

Those of us on this side of the call had no idea what happened, but eventually the news caught up and filled us in:

Parking attendant survives three-story fall in SUV

That's right. A car fell out of a parking garage and crashed into my customer's office building, damaging their work area on the first floor. We heard from them this morning: they are working from home today. Wild.

Happy Christmas Adam!

Today is Christmas Adam, and it's the big holiday day for my family.

Let me back up and explain. Since my dad's a pastor, he works on Christmas Eve, and in the past he'd also worked on Christmas morning. That pretty much throws a wrench into the holiday family time, since he has to get to the church early and he has to be the last to leave. It mostly meant we had to wait until Christmas afternoon to have time together to eat, enjoy company, open presents, etc. And then, my sister, A., suggested we celebrate Christmas Adam. And since Adam came before Eve, that makes it today.

Mostly, we treat it like other families treat Christmas Eve. We have a nice dinner, and then we play games and get to open one present. While that was originally intended to hold us kids over until Christmas Day, sometimes it lead to a full-on excessive present opening shindig. Now that we're older, we have more control. Well, sort of.

We still eat way too much, and today we are each making a seafood appetizer to comprise the dinner. I believe there will be gumbo, lobster something-or-other, seafood pizza, and my entry, pairing two of my favorite foods in the world: crab-stuffed mushrooms. I guess we're sort of going with the dim sum approach to dinner -- lots of little bits make people full just like big plates of entrees. It should be fun, and I'm looking forward to how everyone will pull their pieces together. It helps that the family is full of good cooks. Yum!

What Was That?

If some well-intentioned person says to you, "If you have to evacuate because of the fires, you're welcome to come stay with us," and then follows it up with "We know you won't, but you're welcome to," does that officially negate the invitation?

Saturday Strangeness From Around the World

Here's the strangeness that I found this week.

India Outsources Outsourcing In a bizarre shift, a few Indian technology companies are finding they have more software jobs than they can fill. So they're outsourcing them to places like Mexico, Chile, Uruguay, China, Brazil, The Philippines, Portugal, Saudi Arabia, Romania, The Czech Republic, Thailand, Canada, and yes, The United States. They are focusing on "states that are less developed" like Georgia, Arizona, Idaho, and Virginia. One quote from the article says, "Such is the new outsourcing. A company in the United States pays an Indian vendor 7,000 miles, or 11,200 kilometers, away to supply it with Mexican workers situated 150 miles south of the U.S. border." What a pile of irony.

The World's Most Expensive Dessert A resort in Singapore has a dessert on the menu that they charge $14,500 for. What? According to the report, "the dessert is a gold leaf Italian cassata flavored with Irish cream, served with a mango and pomegranate compote and a champagne sabayon enlighten. The dessert is decorated with a chocolate carving of a fisherman clinging to a stilt, an age old local fishing practice, and an 80 carat aquamarine stone." Can I just have it without the gemstone and the needlessly intricate chocolate art? The rest doesn't sound too bad, as long as we're now down in the $7-10 range.

Green Eggs and Ham Ruling A federal judge in New Hampshire was prompted to issue a Dr. Seuss-like ruling this week. He received a hard-boiled egg in the mail from an Orthodox Jewish inmate who was complaining about the non-Kosher food he is served in prison. The judge's response?

I do not like eggs in the file.
I do not like them in any style.
I will not take them fried or boiled.
I will not take them poached or broiled.
I will not take them soft or scrambled
Despite an argument well-rambled.

Then the judge issued a decree regarding the egg he received.

No fan I am
Of the egg at hand.
Destroy that egg! Today! Today!
Today I say! Without delay!

I do like a poetic judge.

Man Takes Office Theft to a New Level In this story out of Berlin, an assembly line worker sneaked up to 7000 screws a day over a two year period and took them home to sell on eBay. His employer never noticed, but police were alerted when they saw he was selling large amounts of screws below market price, and they started investigating. The employer never noticed that 1.1 million screws went missing. Sounds like a new Office Space-type ploy.

Saturday Strangeness from Around the World

I have decided to add a new feature to my blog. Theoretically, I think I'm strange (okay, not really, but it's the title of my blog, so I feel a certain need to prove that there is strangeness here), but the world around us is strange, indeed. So, I'm going to look through the week to find strange stories in the news and highlight them here. Here is what I found this week.

Man Reports His Missing Cocaine You can read the AP account from Wednesday, but the gist is that the stupid dude has been smuggling drugs across the Canadian border for a while, but they haven't had enough to arrest him. However, his latest exchange didn't go so well. He lost two blue backpacks containing 68 pounds of cocaine, and called the Feds and "asked if ICE could put out a news release saying that federal agents had seized the drugs. That way,...the organization he was working for would believe his statements that he hadn't stolen them." Instead, the authorities found the backpacks and arrested the guy. Try to plead "Not Guilty" now, crazy dude. I do love a good stupid criminal story.

Omnivores: The Next Protected Class? I found this one over at the International Herald Tribune, describing portions of Mumbai, India, where vegetarianism is almost its own cult. One vegetarian is quoted as saying "I'd have issues living next to a non-vegetarian person. The smell would be a problem, but it's more than that. A non-vegetarian person eats hot blood and it makes him hot blooded; he might not keep control of his emotions." The concern seems to be that as India partakes more and more in Western culture, that more people in India will eat meat, and the children of vegetarians could be corrupted. The story also talks about a lady that lives in one of these parts of the city, and the lengths she goes to to keep up the lie that she eats meat and egs. Some part of this feeling seems to be to try to keep Muslims out of Hindu residential areas. I understand religious zealotry, but this goes beyond that. This (and other stories I've seen from India) also seems to suggest that any shift toward Western ideals is going to be fought very hard there. So, to my Indian friends that eat meat -- keep using those canine teeth and don't let the vegetarians get you down!

Belgium Put on eBay This one cracks me up! A teacher posted the country on eBay, "offering free delivery, but pointing out that the country was coming secondhand and that potential buyers would have to take on over $300 billion in national debt." The funniest part, though, is that eBay "decided to pull the ad Tuesday after receiving a bid of $14 million." Ha! I suppose the teacher got what he was looking for -- some notice for his country and the crazy political turmoil they are currently in.

Legislating the 7-Year Itch From Berlin, we find this story of Gabriele Pauli, a politician from Bavaria, who suggests "that marriages [should] expire after seven years." If you really like your spouse, don't worry -- "After that time, couples should either agree to extend their marriage or it should be automatically dissolved." I have mixed feelings on this. It might reduce the divorce rate (though how many really make it to the 7-year point), but then I might have taken that way out. Seven was a bad year for us, but I'm glad now that I stuck it out. It's an odd suggestion, and I doubt it's the last time we'll hear of it.

I'll be looking for more stories for next week. I hope you enjoy hearing about zany stuff I find. I do enjoy looking for oddness in the news. It's more fun than reading only the regular depressing stuff.

Is Heather a Mini Murderer or Just a Maimer?

"Heather, you are charged with the murder of a blue Mini Cooper, named Fred. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty, Your Honor."

"The prosecution may call its first witness."

"Sir, we would like to call the plaintiff, Heather, to the stand. Heather, how old is the vehicle in question?"

"Two and a half years old, sir."

"And how many miles does it have on it?"

"Just 25,0000."

"Whose car is it?"

"It's my husband's. I mean, we both pay for it..."

"Thank you! If you can answer only the question asked of you, that will do. Please refrain from any sort of extracurricular rigamarole. Do you admit to writing this account of a power steering problem that occurred in April?"

"Yes."

"Who was driving the car when this problem occurred?"

"I was."

"Where was your husband?"

"He was out of town on a vacation."

"So, while your husband was gone, you decided to take the opportunity to attack Fred and try to kill him?"

"No -- I didn't do anything -- it just happened! The shop says this sort of thing happens to these cars a lot!"

"After this attack in April, have you ever been driving Fred when other sorts of things happened to him?"

"It wasn't an attack in April."

"The witness is instructed to answer the question."

"Last week, I went to pick up my husband after he returned from Hawaii. I drove 10 miles to pick him up, and on the way back, the car started making funny noises. Within a block, there was white smoke pouring out of under the hood. I stopped the car and rolled it downhill to park it against the curb."

"While your husband was with you, he wasn't driving?"

"It was late, and he'd been traveling all day. He was tired, and it was easier for me just to stay in the driver's seat for the short trip home."

"Did you offer to let him drive his own car, his friend, Fred?"

"No. Didn't seem to make sense to do so."

"And how is Fred doing now?"

"Well, the serpentine belt went out. That was the noise that led to the billowing smoke. It was towed to the dealer, 80 miles away, and has been repaired. We're supposed to pick it up today."

(Gasps from the gallery.)

The judge speaks up, "It appears the charges brought here were faulty -- the car is fixed and working now?"

"It appears so. We won't really know until we get to the shop and drive it around a bit, but it should be fine. It was still under warranty, so the repairs don't even cost anything."

"So there isn't any lasting damage?"

"Well, you know how a repaired car is, sir. It probably will rattle or squeak or otherwise not still be in mint condition, but it should work just fine."

"That's good to hear."

The prosecution is still concerned, and says, "But what about the future of Fred? This murderer will continue her attacks on this poor car any time her husband goes away. She is obviously a danger to Fred, and he should be brought into protective custody for his own safety."

The judge, however, had had enough. "Go try a real case with a real live victim, son. Case dismissed!"

"We Hope That Was Exciting"

We were in the pile of unlucky people flying into Austin while freezing rain and sleet fell from the sky. Initially, our flight was delayed ten minutes, and then thirty minutes, and then it was leaving three hours late. We kept thinking they would cancel the flight. I mean, really...if landing at 10:30 at night is dangerous, how is that going to get better three hours later, with no sunshine?

As we approached the Austin airport, the pilot came on the intercom and informed us that one of their indicator lights wasn't working, so they were going to replace some bulbs and see if that was all the problem was. At that point, one hundred fifty people sit in their seats all having the same thought: "And, what if it's not just the little bulbs?" When the pilot came back one he assured us that all was well, and we were ready to land. Again with the simultaneous thought balloons, this time saying, "Is everything really okay?"

Then came the actual landing, after which the pilot came back on, and said, "We hope that was as exciting for all of you as it was for us." Um, excuse me? I don't think we needed to know that.

Then, as we were deplaning, I overheard the pilot talking to another passenger that the light that wouldn't come on was for the left landing gear. It then became clear what I heard before the first announcement -- the landing gears being lowered, raised, and lowered again. I'm glad they got the landing gears open and checked out and were able to land properly. But does it make me a bad person that I kinda wished they hadn't? To have experienced the excitement of a belly landing on runway foam?

Monday, Monday

My Monday just got really easy. My boss called me this morning to tell me not to come to work because the office is under quarantine. I work in a section on Congress Avenue where they found a passal of dead birds, and they want to keep the people out of the area until they determine that the area is safe. They think they might let us in by noon, but that's unclear.

Now, I could, of course, work from home this morning, but it's still pretty well guaranteed to be a less productive day than I would normally have had. It's crazy -- I wonder if we'll send an email to all our customers regarding our unexpected unattended office this morning. If we did, I think it should be something like this.

Dear Customers,

We don't normally slack off on taking your phone calls on Monday mornings, but today we have a good reason. There were a bunch of dead birds found on the street near our office, and EMS shut down the area for the whole morning. Most likely there is no toxin in the air and this was a prank, but in our ultra-terrorist-sensitive society, we have to be excessively cautious -- shutting down businesses for hours just in case. Hopefully, there won't be any dead squirrels tomorrow.

We'll be back in the office when the paranoia lifts. Thanks for your patience.

I'm sure there'll be no backlash from that. Right?

Unpopular Sentiment

I have been trying to figure out lately why I am so disturbed by all the initiatives surrounding convicted sexual offenders.

For a while now, we've had Megan's Law requiring registration and community notification of all convicted adult sexual offenders with victims under 17. In recent local news, there are now cries for some way of notifying the "people who need to know" if a juvenile sexual offender is out of jail. Even more recently, punishment was handed down to include wearing a shirt in public places to declare the convicted man's status as a sexual predator.

To me, this seems to be getting a bit overboard.

Now, this doesn't mean I'm a supporter of sex crimes, or that I don't want to protect our nation's children, or that I think criminals' rights are more important than victims' right. But expressing any opposition to any of these proposals or laws is viewed exactly that way. Thus, no useful debate can be done on these topics. And so, our politicians have to continue to support every stupid piece of legislation that comes along on this topic. Really, which congressperson wants to go back to their constituency and try to get re-elected when they voted against Megan's Law? The public outcry would be uncontrollable.

Anytime that people are afraid to speak up against the majority, the majority oversteps reasonable bounds. So, here I am, speaking up against the absurdity of this line of policy-making. Please try not to skin me alive for my opinion. At least beat me to death before you skin me. I think that would hurt less.

I guess my biggest concern is about the notification that occurs for sexual offenders when they move into a new area. It's as if we're saying it's more important to know that a previous sexual offender that has been released from prison has moved in than a murderer or a person convicted of DUI or drug dealers or anything else. Why can't a sexual offender give out candy (and there is major public outcry trying to make sure everyone knows and makes sure they keep their porch light off), but we apparently don't worry about any other criminals coming into contact with our kids.

It sends the message, in my mind, that sexual offenders are the only criminals that aren't rehabilitatable (I hope that's a word). If that's not true, then let them reassimilate into society without the shameful sign hanging around their neck. If we don't make other criminals list their rap sheet on their sleeve, don't make these folks do so either. However, it's possible that we don't think they'll ever turn from their sex crime ways, but if that's the sentiment, then why are the punishments for these crimes so small compared to other crimes? If we really think we can't make these criminals safe for reentry into mainstream society, then why can't we sentence them to life in prison or to death? I'm not talking about death penalty as a legitimate punishment here, but if we use it for other crimes, why not these? As I was doing "research" (it's hard to think of internet searching as research -- no library, no card catalog, you know) for this piece, I came across someone who apparently questions this, as well. I'll be interested to see what happens with some of those pieces of legislation here in Texas.

The other concern I have on this is that general movement by this country to offload the raising of our children to public officials. Teachers, police, and others are expected to carry more of this load than parents. I'm not wholesale blaming parents for their child's molestation -- of course there are unavoidable situations. I'm just saying that parents shouldn't let their kids stay the weekend at Neverland. Beyond the highly publicized stranger encounters, though, most sexually oriented crimes occur in the family. And family incidents tend not to be prosecuted but hidden as part of that family's "skeletons in the closet." If they're not prosecuted, you can't be warned unless the family talks about it (unlikely).

I just don't want parents to get a false sense of security that with all these regulations that their children become "safe." Continue to be vigilant, and good luck!

Fast-Tracked Life

This was originally an entry better suited for HIAH Jealousy.

I have some friends that, apparently, have decided that having as many milestones as possible in as short a time as possible is a good thing. Just eighteen months ago, we were the three musketeers -- we worked together, went out together, watched sporting events together, and teased each other. We had dubbed the male group member an honorary woman, and we enjoyed talking with each other about just about everything.

Then, last August they started dating each other. I guess I should have seen it coming, but I was suprised. And apparently, I was the only one. Most people realize that when two single people spend so much time together that an attraction is nearly inevitable. I was so convinced they acted like brother and sister. Note to self: don't try to read relationships -- you're not good at it.

In February, they got engaged. This I did see coming, so I wasn't surprised. They decided not to wait a long time to get married, so last April, they tied the knot. Many people assume a two-month engagement means a shotgun wedding, but that was not the case here. They just saw no reason to drag it out -- just get started living their marriage as soon as possible.

In June, he left his stable, but not advanceable, job to go work for a company in New York. In August, they bought a house. At this point, many of us started pointing out that of the most stressful things that one can do in their life, they had just done the top three in four months (getting married, moving, and changing jobs). They agreed that things were crazy and they were looking forward to things settling down and getting some work done on their house.

Then the morning sickness started, and all was confirmed -- they're pregnant, and expecting the week after their first anniversary. They joke that they're glad they did things in the "right" order, but you can tell they're a little overwhelmed with the speed of change in their lives. Are they excited though? No, they're ecstatic.

I only have two questions -- what milestone comes next? And what are they waiting for?

And To You, Too!

To the person that wrote a note to my car:

Thank you for the thoughtfulness that led to you writing a note and putting it under my windshield while I was at lunch. My car was obviously lonely, and appreciated the company. It was very nice the way you carefully crafted your two-word message with the lovely exclamation point and the three lines below it. It was especially poignant that you drafted the message on a napkin, as I was likely using mine inside the restaurant at the time.

My car tried to tell me that it thinks that you intended the message for me, but since I was nicely parked at least 6 inches from the cars on either side of me (and certainly within my space), I told it that couldn't be the case. I told my car it should appreciate the comments it receives, and it doesn't need to be modest, diverting attention from itself. It was so insistent, though, that I had to give it a second thought.

However, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that if anyone had wanted to convey something to me about my parking, they would have been more verbose, explaining in great detail my precise infraction. There wasn't anyone else on the row when I parked, so I didn't "steal" anyone else's space. I didn't bump my door into the neighboring car when I emerged, even though the spaces are very small, so that couldn't have been the concern. So, since there wasn't a direct explanation of my great overstepping, I assume the message must have been meant for my car.

And Car, you have to understand that different people have different tolerance levels for how pretty and clean you are. It doesn't have any bearing on how I feel about you. I still love you. And the person who wrote the note loves you too -- they just haven't figured out how to express that appropriately.

Sincerely,
Heather

Movie Mayhem

We went to see a late showing of "A Scanner Darkly", and it created some odd experiences. My husband dropped me off to get seats and went to pick up a friend who has no car. I was the first person in the theater, and sat down in the middle. The second person who came in made eye contact with me, and then proceeded to sit on my same row with just two seats between us. This seemed very odd, but I assumed I was overreacting to the situation. Apparently this location was too far away, though, so when his friend came in, Guy #1 moved a seat closer to me.

Some of you may have seen the emails that circulated a few years ago about urinal usage etiquette, and how it's important not to select a urinal too close to one that is already in use. I've never had use for that information, but much the same logic applies in other public settings. After he moved closer to me, I decided I didn't care if I was overreacting or if my actions were rude. I was uncomfortable with the three people in the theater all being within four seats of each other and not being a group. So I moved to another row.

Then, if you've ever been to a movie at an Alamo Drafthouse location, you know they have a whole short film at the beginning about being quiet in the theater, encouraging patrons to flag any loud guests for management to deal with them (they probably don't deal with them in the same way as they do in the short films). I've never had to even think about doing that...until this particular night. About halfway through the movie, a guy on my new row started being exceptionally loud. Laughing in inappropriate places, telling his friend that certain characters were stoned, rehashing certain story points. My guess is he stepped out, got himself stoned, and returned to be a punk in the theater. His friend seemed really embarrassed, and much of the theater was obviously annoyed with this guy's antics. So why didn't anyone call for management to take his ass out?

Besides all the strange activity in the theater, it was a good movie. However, since we saw it relatively late at night, we came home and I went straight to bed. I should probably stayed awake a while to process the movie before going to sleep. But since I didn't, I had my own short film inspired by the movie as a dream. Or nightmare, more like it.

I was going about much my normal business, when people started reacting to me like they couldn't understand me. I knew I was doing drugs, but not enough to impair speech functions. As time progressed, I got to where I couldn't understand myself, and my motions became slower and more sluggish. As I couldn't understand what I was saying, I got scared, wondering what was happening to me. Panic and confusion increased and increased and then ... my screen went white ... and then little letters and numbers appeared on the screen arranged in a bootup sequence.

Another Accident

Last night, on my way home from work, I saw all kinds of flashing lights at the same spot as the last accident I saw. The only car I saw was spun around backwards, and messed up pretty good. It was a very distinctive car -- white with a big red triangle on the hood. I had seen it earlier in my commute home, dashing past me as I started on my way north. Twenty minutes later, I found that the owner got what he/she had coming.

Now, normally, I am sympathetic to people in car accidents. I've been in enough to know how much of a pain they are (even if you're not in physical pain). But in this case, I had no sympathy. Instead, I muttered under breath, "See,if you'd just let me in back there, things would have been fine."

Silly Weekendness

This weekend, my husband and I partook in silly online personality and intelligence tests. We've now, with complete scientific certainty, determined that I am:
- Afflicted with fewer personality disorders than my husband
- Clinton, while he is Einstein
- Smarter than he is
- Christian, while my husband is Buddhist

Anyway, one of the tests we took was a measure of fluid intelligence: the ability to recognize patterns in a set of shapes. I felt like I was back in elementary school taking IQ tests. Conveniently, I've always tested well. And, apparently, I can find patterns.

This proved very helpful when I went to the grocery store. A little background on this: I buy gift cards from my church for my grocery shopping, and then my church gets 2% back on that. It doesn't cost me anything, so it's certainly worth it. My most recent card had $17.64 left on it. So, when I went to the store tonight, I knew that was my limit (it's the end of the month, and there's no money left for fun stuff like food). At the checkout stand, my total came to $16.74. Whew! But, my card was declined. So we tried it again. Declined. Apparently I only have 90 cents left on my card. Wait...that's how much there would be if they'd actually charged the $16.74. So I argued. And pulled out my last receipt that shows how much was left on the card. And they found a manager and fixed everything. And now I really do have 90 cents left on my card.

Good thing I can do math in my head. Otherwise, I'd be poorer than necessary.

Different Strokes

On my way home from work tonight, I was driving along, paying attention to the cars in front of me. I was almost home, when I saw a car on the side street looking like it was going to turn right onto my street. Meanwhile, a car in the middle lane was inching over to change lanes into that same right lane.

And they both did what they were looking like they were going to do. And they collided.

And then both kept driving. One continued on straight up the street in the middle lane, and the other turned right at the next street.

I just don't understand that behavior. I would have pulled off into one of several parking lots, made sure everyone was okay, and exchanged information (of course, I'm quite the rules follower). Even as a bystander, I was prepared to follow the two cars, and offer my services as a witness. But they, apparently, wouldn't have wanted them anyway.

I know that my area of the city is poorer, and there are probably quite a few folks without insurance. I also know there are pockets of illegal immigrants in the area. I'm sure neither group would be interested in any kind of car-related mishaps, but I guess it surprised me that these two cars held folks that seemed to be in one category or the other.

Are there other reasons not to stop if you've been involved in a car accident?

The Drain Commissioner

Since it's cold now, I had to dig out my coat. I stuck my hand in the pocket, and found a business card that pointed out that I haven't worn that coat since a business trip to Michigan last January. That particular trip was one of my more interesting business trips ever, and decided to put it all down on virtual paper.

I got to town the evening before I was to visit the customer, and decided to go to a local Italian restaurant that seemed to have gotten good reviews. When I got there, I found that this was an incredibly busy place, and seeing as how I was a table for one (and didn't want to wait for food), I decided to sit at the bar and eat there. As I'm eating my dinner, a 60-ish fellow next to me strikes up a conversation. Seems he was the Drain Commissioner of the city, and I now know all about what this elected official does. He told me about the size of his staff and budget, and threw in that he used to be the mayor, but since the DC has more power, he prefers that role, and has been doing this job for nearly 25 years. In my I-haven't-dated-in-nearly-eight-years naivete, I still realized he was flirting with me. I pointed out that I was from out of state and wasn't one of his constituents, and was married (I think I made several unnecessary references to my husband to drive this point home), but to no avail.

We continued with some very interesting political conversation, since he was a liberal Democrat, and I'm more conservative, with libertarian leanings, and am not afraid to disagree with people. We talked for a while, and he bought my dinner (despite my insistence that it was a business expense for my trip). He bought me a drink, and then suggested we go to a bar across the street. I was intrigued by this much older man hitting on me, that I agreed. We talked about his family (his daughter is 10 years older than me), drugs (he thinks all should be legal, and has done his fair share), sex (he loves it, and he's good at it, by his perception), and more politics (drains and water control are surprisingly interesting if the elected official in question is passionate about his work). Then he talks about how in his free time he also runs a massage business, and his clients really like his technique. Especially his female clients. Oh, and he's brought some of them to the Big O just through massage.

I start to leave. He says he wants to see me again. He has to go to a wine tasting the next night, and wouldn't I come with him? He'd really like to give me a massage after I'm done working with my customer the next day. He gives me his card and writes his cell phone number on it. He says won't I please call him when I finish up with my customer the next day? I pocket the card, making yet another feeble comment about needing to call my husband and go to bed, and head back to my hotel.

A Little Bit Flippant

A couple of weeks ago, my grandmother died. She was cremated, and we just had the memorial service this weekend. My grandfather died several years ago, and he was cremated and has been saved in a purple velvet bag in my dad's office. Now, his mom is in an urn. So, there they are -- Urnmom and Bagdad.

Cold Call Job Opportunity

When I got home today, I had the strangest message on the answering machine. Someone from a company called to invite me to apply for a job with them. They got my name from a list of their scholarship recipients from years ago, and were apparently cold-calling those people to see if they wanted to be financial planners with the company. I have to admit it was tempting (talking to other people about their money all day), but I decided I do like the job I have now.