Some people leave trails of bread crumbs. Everywhere in the house he goes, Husband leaves trails of dimes--sometimes nickels or pennies, rarely quarters--but mostly dimes.
Darn. Wish they were hundred-dollar bills.
Showing posts with label modernity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label modernity. Show all posts
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Now You Know
Yesterday morning, Fiorella sent a rather starchy letter to a website for Smooth Solutions, telling them they did not act in good faith in regard to her prepay for laser treatment of her legs and armpits, plus a microdermabrasion. Yesterday evening, she received a reply:
You have the wrong Smooth Solutions. We are a scanning company in New Jersey. Sorry about your problem. Mike
Ooops--to a perfect stranger, Fio revealed some very intimate information. It's a good thing she hadn't signed up for a bikini line or a Brazilian.
You have the wrong Smooth Solutions. We are a scanning company in New Jersey. Sorry about your problem. Mike
Ooops--to a perfect stranger, Fio revealed some very intimate information. It's a good thing she hadn't signed up for a bikini line or a Brazilian.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Manners
Did Fio ever tell you that she once had a student who, in class discussion, revealed she thought it was so rude to blow one's nose in public that she taught her children to go to a restroom so to do?
As Fio later learned from a newspaper crime report, this woman, trying to get her ex's attention, also tried to poison said children.
Talk about rude.
As Fio later learned from a newspaper crime report, this woman, trying to get her ex's attention, also tried to poison said children.
Talk about rude.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Fio's Madonna Story
Fio fondly remembers years ago when she was one of the mothers who walked her son's fifth grade class to the roller skating rink eight blocks away. The students were getting a little rowdy so Fio suggested they sing. She started them on "Row, Row, Row Your Boat," but they quickly switched to their own choice: Madonna's latest hits.
Imagine thirty ten year-olds belting out "Papa, Don't Preach" and "Like A Virgin" at the top of their lungs as they walked down the sidewalk. Fio was appalled at how well they knew the lyrics.
But at least it kept them occupied all the way to the rink.
Imagine thirty ten year-olds belting out "Papa, Don't Preach" and "Like A Virgin" at the top of their lungs as they walked down the sidewalk. Fio was appalled at how well they knew the lyrics.
But at least it kept them occupied all the way to the rink.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Confession
Have to confess
Fio's a mess--
Her hair is dyed,
Her teeth are capped,
She's been Botoxed,
Her eyes were zapped,
Her legs are lasered.
Her heart's electronic--
All in all,
Fio's bionic.
Fio's a mess--
Her hair is dyed,
Her teeth are capped,
She's been Botoxed,
Her eyes were zapped,
Her legs are lasered.
Her heart's electronic--
All in all,
Fio's bionic.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Under Attack
Fio tends to squirm at the concept of a home theater, a cathedral-like room dedicated entirely to the worship of a frightening large LCD viewing screen. Checking the Internet, she learned that even an economy theater runs at least $50K. It's not just the 60" TV, but the special lighting to prevent glare on the screen, the comfy seats or couches equipped with cup holders and food trays, the DVD player, the stereo and speakers, and, of course, the sound-absorbing carpeting. Bypassing the TV entirely and going to a projection system adds even more buck$.
The monetary waste horrifies Fio, but it's more than that--it's the whole idea of sitting in a darkened room and staring at an imaginary life for hours on end. The zombies are coming, and they are us.
The monetary waste horrifies Fio, but it's more than that--it's the whole idea of sitting in a darkened room and staring at an imaginary life for hours on end. The zombies are coming, and they are us.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Prayer Answered
Fio is healed,
Fio is swell--
Deep in the depths
Of the car's tire well,
Fio has found
Her missing cell.
Fio is swell--
Deep in the depths
Of the car's tire well,
Fio has found
Her missing cell.
Friday, April 16, 2010
God must have wanted me to clean house
The Ides of March has nothing on the Ides of April*. Fio isn't just referring to taxes, although they too were problematical: despite Fio getting the info to the accountant in mid-March, our return wasn't ready yesterday so we had to file for an extension.
Fio was peeved about the taxes, but she can live with it. What had her absolutely distraught was losing a BIG check and not being able to find her new cell phone. She searched the house over, then decided to concentrate on her writing, but she couldn't open the chapters of her latest masterpiece.
Odd little chills started running through her.
When Husband came home, he comforted Fio, adjusted a few settings to give her access to her chapters, then helped her search the house and the cars twice over for the missing items. Fio even went through four bags of trash.
Nada.
Both of them kept returning to her little purse and the shelf it sat on. Must have been ten searches of that area. Eight hours later, the last one turned up the check. It was hanging like Spiderman beneath the shelf against the upright--invisible except from just the right angle.
About the cell phone, we don't think we got out of the store with it and have put in a call to our Verizon retailer. We'll see.
*Yes, Fio, who at one time was a Latin scholar, knows that the Ides on April is the 13th, but she took literary license.
Fio was peeved about the taxes, but she can live with it. What had her absolutely distraught was losing a BIG check and not being able to find her new cell phone. She searched the house over, then decided to concentrate on her writing, but she couldn't open the chapters of her latest masterpiece.
Odd little chills started running through her.
When Husband came home, he comforted Fio, adjusted a few settings to give her access to her chapters, then helped her search the house and the cars twice over for the missing items. Fio even went through four bags of trash.
Nada.
Both of them kept returning to her little purse and the shelf it sat on. Must have been ten searches of that area. Eight hours later, the last one turned up the check. It was hanging like Spiderman beneath the shelf against the upright--invisible except from just the right angle.
About the cell phone, we don't think we got out of the store with it and have put in a call to our Verizon retailer. We'll see.
*Yes, Fio, who at one time was a Latin scholar, knows that the Ides on April is the 13th, but she took literary license.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Stop the World!
Hear ye, hear ye! Fio is sick and tired of change!
Windows 7 is driving her mad, from the irritating little moving circle that indicates pending action to the confusing e-mail page set-up to the mirror-like screen that reflects Fio back on herself as she tries to write. And she HATES the pernicious blue background.
She doesn't like her new "ionic" hair rollers either. She wants her twenty-year-old plastic ones back, with the metal prongs that kept them in place, but the rollers disintegrated on her so she's stuck with these velvety thingies and plastic clips that don't work. Don't tell Fio she should be using a styling wand--she can't get the hang of that either.
And she doesn't like the way "thought" scenes are spliced in and out of movies. Slumdog Millionaire and Precious were great, but they would have been better if someone had known the meaning of the old-fashioned terms "fade-in" and "fadeout." (There was nothing that could have saved Mama Mia.)
She'd like her face and figure to quit changing too, but that's another story.
Windows 7 is driving her mad, from the irritating little moving circle that indicates pending action to the confusing e-mail page set-up to the mirror-like screen that reflects Fio back on herself as she tries to write. And she HATES the pernicious blue background.
She doesn't like her new "ionic" hair rollers either. She wants her twenty-year-old plastic ones back, with the metal prongs that kept them in place, but the rollers disintegrated on her so she's stuck with these velvety thingies and plastic clips that don't work. Don't tell Fio she should be using a styling wand--she can't get the hang of that either.
And she doesn't like the way "thought" scenes are spliced in and out of movies. Slumdog Millionaire and Precious were great, but they would have been better if someone had known the meaning of the old-fashioned terms "fade-in" and "fadeout." (There was nothing that could have saved Mama Mia.)
She'd like her face and figure to quit changing too, but that's another story.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Up, Up, and Away
Friday was Father's birthday. Husband, sensing Fio's melancholy, suggested they drive up to Waco tomorrow to lay flowers on her parents' graves.
One hundred miles up the freeway, Fio thought. Why were they buried so far away?
Because people follow the jobs. Father, born in Pennsylvania, moved to Ohio for a job in a tire factory, married an Akron girl, and moved the family to Waco for a promotion. Fio married an Austin boy she met at UT and they lived and worked in his hometown until she got a job in Temple, when they moved to Georgetown, halfway between.
It's nothing new. Her forbears and Husabnd's came to this country to better their lives. And why did our far-distant ancestors leave Africa except to further their own opportunities?
And so it goes. I hear plans are underway to reinvigorate Mars for human habitation.
One hundred miles up the freeway, Fio thought. Why were they buried so far away?
Because people follow the jobs. Father, born in Pennsylvania, moved to Ohio for a job in a tire factory, married an Akron girl, and moved the family to Waco for a promotion. Fio married an Austin boy she met at UT and they lived and worked in his hometown until she got a job in Temple, when they moved to Georgetown, halfway between.
It's nothing new. Her forbears and Husabnd's came to this country to better their lives. And why did our far-distant ancestors leave Africa except to further their own opportunities?
And so it goes. I hear plans are underway to reinvigorate Mars for human habitation.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Against the Odds
What a wonderful evening.
Fio and Husband had Nephew Barrett and Wife Rachel over to the house for a one-day premature birthday bash in Nephew's honor--hamburgers and two-day beans and cake and ice cream. No crepe paper streamers or funny hats, but we sang "Happy Birthday" to him twice and hugged him a lot.
We hugged Wife Rachel a lot too. It was so great to see a happily-married young couple.
And, in our circle, so rare.
Fio and Husband had Nephew Barrett and Wife Rachel over to the house for a one-day premature birthday bash in Nephew's honor--hamburgers and two-day beans and cake and ice cream. No crepe paper streamers or funny hats, but we sang "Happy Birthday" to him twice and hugged him a lot.
We hugged Wife Rachel a lot too. It was so great to see a happily-married young couple.
And, in our circle, so rare.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
A Look at Nook
Labor-saving devices are getting more complicated every day.
The new dishwasher is terrific, but the levers that raise and lower the upper rack are tricky. The new car can darn near drive itself--but only if one has mastered the two-hundred page instruction manual. And you already know that Fio considers vacuum cleaners too rocket scientisty for her Luddite brain.
First came Kindle and then came Nook. Santa gave Husband one of the latter for Christmas. Fio doesn't know about Kindle, but no written directions were provided with Nook and it is NOT what one would call user-friendly. Husband has studied the hard-to-find on-line information, driven ten miles over to the nearest B&N for mano a mano instruction twice, and waited on the telephone for almost two hours in order to get personal assistance.
He says he likes what Nook does, but so far Fio notes all it's done is cause him a lot of extra work.
Meanwhile she sits on the couch and turns the pages of her book with an easy flip of her hand.
The new dishwasher is terrific, but the levers that raise and lower the upper rack are tricky. The new car can darn near drive itself--but only if one has mastered the two-hundred page instruction manual. And you already know that Fio considers vacuum cleaners too rocket scientisty for her Luddite brain.
First came Kindle and then came Nook. Santa gave Husband one of the latter for Christmas. Fio doesn't know about Kindle, but no written directions were provided with Nook and it is NOT what one would call user-friendly. Husband has studied the hard-to-find on-line information, driven ten miles over to the nearest B&N for mano a mano instruction twice, and waited on the telephone for almost two hours in order to get personal assistance.
He says he likes what Nook does, but so far Fio notes all it's done is cause him a lot of extra work.
Meanwhile she sits on the couch and turns the pages of her book with an easy flip of her hand.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Fio-stradamus Predicts:
Fiorella is fascinated by the currently stylish notion that the world will end in 2012 because the Mayan calender leaves off at that date.
Now, in the first place, the Mayan world itself ended a long time before 2012--more like 1697, when the Spanish subdued the last Mayan stronghold. In the second place, even during Fio's lifetime, the world has survived a fair number of similar disaster predictions. The first one she remembers was back when she was in the sixth grade and the local Davidian sect said the Apocalypse would occur on May 27th. Fio was a little nervous walking home from school that day, but nothing happened.
The most recent prediction was at the turn of the millennium, when everyone was stocking up on dehydrated food and bottled water.
Nostradamus is usually pulled into all these messages of doom, but he's vague enough to be used for anything. Natural catastrophes and socio-ecnomic political upheavals are also cited as proof of the coming whatever, but think about it--there has seldom been an era in the history of the world in which there WEREN'T natural catastrophes and socio-economic/political upheavals.
Actually, Fio thinks what we have to be wary of is a time that no one has predicted and all is going well. Sort of a surprise package.
Now, in the first place, the Mayan world itself ended a long time before 2012--more like 1697, when the Spanish subdued the last Mayan stronghold. In the second place, even during Fio's lifetime, the world has survived a fair number of similar disaster predictions. The first one she remembers was back when she was in the sixth grade and the local Davidian sect said the Apocalypse would occur on May 27th. Fio was a little nervous walking home from school that day, but nothing happened.
The most recent prediction was at the turn of the millennium, when everyone was stocking up on dehydrated food and bottled water.
Nostradamus is usually pulled into all these messages of doom, but he's vague enough to be used for anything. Natural catastrophes and socio-ecnomic political upheavals are also cited as proof of the coming whatever, but think about it--there has seldom been an era in the history of the world in which there WEREN'T natural catastrophes and socio-economic/political upheavals.
Actually, Fio thinks what we have to be wary of is a time that no one has predicted and all is going well. Sort of a surprise package.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Gratifying News
Fio has been grousing and grumbling about the amount of news space given to Tiger Woods' sexual shenanigans lately, but she should be grateful. That means Al Qaeda hasn't blown up any more New York skyscrapers, no huge airplanes have crashed, mass murders have been kept to a minimum, and that Britney, Lindsey, and Paris haven't come up with any new, even more shocking, behavior.
For all of which, Fio gives thanks.
For all of which, Fio gives thanks.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
News Coverage
Is it just me? I couldn't care less that Tiger Woods is having an affair or that Meredith Baxter has decided she likes women.
On the other hand, I'm really glad to read that Susan Boyle's first album hit it big and that Roman Polanski is still under arrest.
Personal is personal but justice is justice.
On the other hand, I'm really glad to read that Susan Boyle's first album hit it big and that Roman Polanski is still under arrest.
Personal is personal but justice is justice.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Overwhelmed
Fio's heart sank when she came home to notice the red light beeping on her phone--something else she had to attend to in addition to the laundry, the dog's wound, the collapsing attic insulation, the busted mailbox, the out-of-order vacuum cleaner, the message from Brother regarding the inheritance taxes Pennsylvania is demanding of Father, the contest entries she agreed to judge, and the final rewrite of her latest romance.
Fio has often speculated that all the electronic beeps are triangulating so they can zot her with the death beam.
And right now it would be a relief.
P.S. The phone just went out.
Fio has often speculated that all the electronic beeps are triangulating so they can zot her with the death beam.
And right now it would be a relief.
P.S. The phone just went out.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Dear Esteemed Friend:
Fio has problems understanding African poverty when she daily receives e-mail missives from charming Nigerians wanting to shower her with untold riches for small favors.
Today it was a Ghanian, a Mr. Fuzzy Attah, who wasn't the usual saintly widow or dying businessman, but a sly embezzler trying to make off with twelve million dollars from the SG-SSB Bank of Ghana. He was willing to give Fio thirty percent of the loot for a little assistance with his "noble" undertaking (as he termed it)--all she had to do was allow him to take control of her computer.
"I got your contact during my search for a reliable, trustworthy and honest person to introduce this transfer project to," Mr. Attah told Fio. Very flattering, but she couldn't return the compliment. Mr. Attah struck her as neither reliable, nor trustworthy, nor honest.
She also found it odd that Mr. Attah was slick enough to fleece his bank without detection, but so dumb that he was soliciting a confederate by means of a spam e-mail. But who is Fio to decode the criminal brain?
She thinks she'll pass on this one, but maybe that Mugabe guy would give Fuzzy an assist. From what Fio reads, Zimbabwe could do with a few extra shekels right now.
Today it was a Ghanian, a Mr. Fuzzy Attah, who wasn't the usual saintly widow or dying businessman, but a sly embezzler trying to make off with twelve million dollars from the SG-SSB Bank of Ghana. He was willing to give Fio thirty percent of the loot for a little assistance with his "noble" undertaking (as he termed it)--all she had to do was allow him to take control of her computer.
"I got your contact during my search for a reliable, trustworthy and honest person to introduce this transfer project to," Mr. Attah told Fio. Very flattering, but she couldn't return the compliment. Mr. Attah struck her as neither reliable, nor trustworthy, nor honest.
She also found it odd that Mr. Attah was slick enough to fleece his bank without detection, but so dumb that he was soliciting a confederate by means of a spam e-mail. But who is Fio to decode the criminal brain?
She thinks she'll pass on this one, but maybe that Mugabe guy would give Fuzzy an assist. From what Fio reads, Zimbabwe could do with a few extra shekels right now.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
The Last Time We Saw Paris
Jon and Kate are now old hat,
Michael Jackson's wearing thin--
Our tabloid news is getting dull--
Hey--how's ol' Paris been?
Michael Jackson's wearing thin--
Our tabloid news is getting dull--
Hey--how's ol' Paris been?
Saturday, August 1, 2009
The Touch
Fio has been waxing nostalgic lately so she thought she would tell you about the (one and only) time she was hailed as an electronic genius.
It was years ago when computers were first being used to tally school board election results. Several of us were gathered around a screen that had the first returns on it. Everyone knew more vote results had come in, but no one knew how to make the screen advance safely--we were all afraid that one wrong move would cause us to lose the data.
Fio was just as ignorant as everyone else, but Husband wasn't, and she remembered from watching him that "enter" was always a safe bet. So, like Moses parting the waters, she reached her arm across the gathered throng, down to the keyboard, and pushed "enter."
The screen advanced and everyone turned and looked at Fio with worshipful wonder.
I guess some of us just have the touch.
It was years ago when computers were first being used to tally school board election results. Several of us were gathered around a screen that had the first returns on it. Everyone knew more vote results had come in, but no one knew how to make the screen advance safely--we were all afraid that one wrong move would cause us to lose the data.
Fio was just as ignorant as everyone else, but Husband wasn't, and she remembered from watching him that "enter" was always a safe bet. So, like Moses parting the waters, she reached her arm across the gathered throng, down to the keyboard, and pushed "enter."
The screen advanced and everyone turned and looked at Fio with worshipful wonder.
I guess some of us just have the touch.
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Onward
When Fio was in Walgreen's yesterday, she was astonished to notice a $30 DNA paternity test on the shelves.
Wild. She thought those things cost scads of money, took a long time to be analyzed, and had to be carried out by trained technicians. Of course, pregnancy tests used to be complicated lab procedures too.
What's next? Diagnose-it-yourself cancer kits?
Wild. She thought those things cost scads of money, took a long time to be analyzed, and had to be carried out by trained technicians. Of course, pregnancy tests used to be complicated lab procedures too.
What's next? Diagnose-it-yourself cancer kits?
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