laffs

I love having new toys!

Posted on May 26, 2010
by Karen Fayeth
4 Comments

Especially photographic type toys.

Yay plastic cameras!

After lusting and longing for a while, I finally broke down and spent some money on a Fuji Instax instant film camera.

It’s like a Polaroid, only a Fuji brand. You know, *coff coff* a financially solvent company?

Anyhow, this fabulous little Instax makes very small instant photographs, they are 2 x 3.25 inches in size.

I LOVE that I have an instant photo camera again!

It hearkens me back to my youth. One Christmas holiday, I got a Polaroid under the tree. Oh what a fabulous present!

I could spend my allowance on buying Polaroid film, which was fairly cheap back then, and then run around snapping photos of whatever I saw with *instant* gratification!

Ok, sure, these days digital cameras provide that instant look at the photo you just took, but there sure is nothing like the sound an instant camera makes after snapping a photo. The motor engages and it shoves out the cloudy photograph. Oh the sweet agony while you wait excitedly for it to develop.

Gah! I love it!

So as I do with every new camera I buy, I take it out of the box, ooh and ah over the features, load up the film or memory disk, and then turn it on and point it at the Feline.

She’s my test model for all new photo and video devices in the house.

Ah, the long suffering Feline….

(scanned photo, not actual size)

And yet, she always manages to strike a pose. I really do think she’s getting better at this job of supermodel.

“I won’t get out of bed for less than two scoops of kibble.”

Such a Diva.

Harumph!

And yet…she sure knows how to work the camera.

As for me, I’m still giddy with the fabulous gadgety goodness of it all!!

That’s not supposed to be funny

Posted on May 21, 2010
by Karen Fayeth
6 Comments

And yet, it is.

Was reading an article today in the online version of the San Francisco Chronicle, the SFGate with the headline of “Flushed jail items cause S.F. court flooding.”

The article talks about how inmates at the San Francisco Hall of Justice managed to flush two orange jumpsuits and a bed sheet down the toilet, thus causing a major backup of raw sewage into the courtrooms.

Workers got the mess cleaned up last night only to have it flood again in the morning.

Just. Ew. Talk about a crappy day at work.

Sorry. No really, I actually am sorry. I’ve been on a pun kick lately. But that’s not the funny part.

The funny part comes toward the end of the article.

Here, I’ll quote it directly:

“…the last major problem occurred in the mid-1990s and prompted the city to purchase grinders, known as ‘muffin monsters,’ that are installed on sewage pipes.”

Giggle. *snort* Chuckle. Guffaw.

Muffin monsters?

Ok really. Honestly?

How am I not supposed to laugh at that?

I immediately dashed into the other room to share my new phrase with The Good Man.

Thus proving once more that I am the intellectual equivalent of a twelve-year-old boy.

But come ON. Muffin monsters?

Ok, ok, they really exist and that’s really what the manufacturer calls them.

They look like this:

That’s all well and good, but I don’t care who you are, that’s still funny!

*giggle snort*

Karenfucius say:

Posted on May 13, 2010
by Karen Fayeth
2 Comments

The later you are for an appointment, the closer the needle on your gas gauge is to “E”.

The more important the meeting, the darker the clothing you will wear.

The later you are for the meeting, the higher likelihood that you forgot to buy sticky roller.

The bigger the emergency, the fewer bars of coverage you will have.

The bigger the emergency, the fewer bars of battery charge you will have.

When waiting for a vital call, the phone will ring the moment you go to the toilet.

When sleeping, ten inch tall, eleven-pound cat become queen size.

The more valuable the item, the more likely the cat will knock it off the shelf.

After rainy winter, the more sun you have, the more “waaaachooo!” you have.

The more “waaaachooo!” you have, the less Claritin you have.

The more you want to diet, the more your coworkers bring in donuts.

The more rabid you are about your Southwest boarding pass, the more likely it is you’ll receive “C”.

The more you want to carry on, the less likely it is that any of your toiletries are less than three ounces.

When flying, long legged girl going to Bend.

Things They Didn’t Teach Me

Posted on May 12, 2010
by Karen Fayeth
2 Comments

I’ve been a proud holder of a driver’s license for, oh say, about twenty-five years.

I first learned to drive our automatic transmission, four-wheel drive, 1972 Chevy Blazer on the hard packed dirt roads around Logan, New Mexico. Population 1,002.

Those roads were wide, empty of other cars, and easy to navigate.

Ya wanna park? Sure. Pull up somewhere near the house. That’ll work.

Then I got a more formal education from the ubiquitous McGinnis School of Driving. Don’t know if it is still the same now, but back then, every high school kid in Albuquerque learned to drive from McGinnis.

We got the usual lessons. Hands and 10 and 2. Back up in a straight line. Parallel park between the orange cones.

That parallel parking one…I didn’t need that much in Albuquerque.

I needed it A LOT more once I moved to the Bay Area.

Parallel parking in San Francisco is like a sport. People will actually spectate the event. Comment on your technique. And point and laugh as you make six runs at that freaking small spot that you’ve just spent over an hour searching for.

These are things that Mr. McGinnis didn’t teach.

That “spent an hour looking for a spot” is what got me thinking. Last night, The Good Man and I had an event up in the great City of San Francisco. It was to be held in the part of the City they call the Marina.

Now…we were feeling pretty good about our odds of parking (another thing McGinnis didn’t teach, thinking ahead to where you’ll park) because where we were headed has a pretty ample parking area. It’s a big wide street with a line of parking spaces down the middle (Fillmore, for my SF readers). Plus, it was a Tuesday night.

Lots of spaces and a weeknight? High potential! Score!

However….

Luck was not on our side. An accident on 280 and backed up traffic for a hometown baseball game left us running late as it was. And when we got to the Marina…there wasn’t a spot to be had.

So we did what we had to do. We began the slow circle around and around and around. Trolling for a spot.

McGinnis didn’t teach me that.

Then the consideration of an ever so slightly empty spot at the curb. Can I fit my car in that? What are the odds the people living there will call the cops because my bumper is hanging in their driveway? Am I leaking over into the red zone? What are the odds I’ll get a ticket?

Mr. McGinnis also did not teach me that.

And then, while panic growing and growing as we are now a half hour late for our event, the sheer ecstasy of actually FINALLY finding a spot. A big spot! A good spot! A spot we didn’t even have to fend off other drivers to get into!

Yes! Sweet mystery of life at last I’ve found you!

Oh the relief. The weeping. The joy.

McGinnis School of Driving definitely did *not* teach me that.

I had to learn that all on my own.

I’m pretty lucky these days because The Good Man, a longtime San Francisco dweller by way of a Brooklyn upbringing isn’t a’feared of these sorts of things. He’ll plunge into the wackiest of driving, parking and navigating situations with ease and aplomb. Most of the time, like last night, he’s got the wheel and I don’t have to worry about it.

Because me, I learned to drive on empty dirt roads.

What the hell are all these cars doing around here!?!?!

(Don’t think I haven’t TOTALLY whipped in front of a Trolley Car to get to a good parking spot. Because I have.)