Michael Scott: A woman shouldn't have to be hit by a car to learn that she has rabies.
There was a bat in our house, which Jake caught with a blanket and released outside, breaking all the rules printed on the neon orange flyer given to me by a nurse from the Department of Health and Human Services. According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention you're supposed to wear thick rubber gloves and capture the bat in a plastic tub of some sort, since their teeth can pierce through cloth. Then you're supposed to bring the bat in and have it tested for rabies. Oops. Who has the control to think logically when there is a bat in the house?
Recently I listened to an episode of This American Life, the Halloween program in fact, where Ira Glass takes a moment to make a public service announcement about how imperceptible bat bites are, how you can actually sleep through them. This got me (and some concerned friends) in a bit of a panic, but after doing a little more reading I realized this warning was mostly for sound-sleeping young children. I like to think that if a bat bit my face, which was my only exposed skin, that I would feel it. And so that's what I'm going with. No rabies shots for me. The animal control guy (who happened to be at the house replacing squirrel traps) agreed, as did a nurse and my mom. Good enough for me. I'll report back if I feel any numbness, tingling or strange afflictions to sunlight, cats and garlic.
And while I'm on vampires, check out this trailer for an amazing Swedish film, Let the Right One In. A love story with vampires = winning combo.
So maybe you heard me mention this other blog I was starting, www.stuffcatzlike.com. I'm finally putting up the link; I wanted to wait until I had a couple entries. If you don't like cats and painfully obvious "it's funny because it's true" humor, then maybe you don't want to check it out. And thanks to Jake for getting me set up.
I have to figure out to make these. Apparently you have to jump through hoops to order them, and at $135 each it definitely qualifies as a worthwhile "I could make that" project. Plus I could alter the pattern and color- Sam Elliot, Charlie Chaplin, French guy, scarves, neck warmers etc. I foresee a mustached winter ahead.
Two Thanksgivings. Two Turkeys. No family. I love my family, but I have to admit spending this past holiday with friends was a fine time. I indulged in being carefree and acting like a kid, something I can't do when I'm visiting home. Rollerskating. Ouija. Airplanes and card tricks. We even set up a video camera in a "confessional" room à la MTV's Real World. It makes me want to pack up a carload of my friends and bring them to Iowa this Christmas, though I'm not sure how the Grandmas would cope with DVD Power Hour and the "Guess which state I'm thinking of" game.
I've been on a nostalgic activities kick lately, and I'm not sure exactly what that means. Laser tag was every bit as fun last week as it was 10 years ago, although admittedly I don't think I got winded after playing two games as a teenager. And rollerskating brought back fond memories of awkward middle school dates and my dad chaperoning a van-full of my friends. I've always acted like a kid and figure I always will, and it makes me happy that I'm surrounded by people who feel the same.
Some people are thankful for their families, some for their toy soldiers and grass; I'm thankful for those things as well as lobster-shaped Jell-o, grandma chairs and Friendsgivings.