Of Mice and Men

[Please make sure to read this before proceeding]

A play in One Act

Cast of characters:
Rod: An unidentified species of rodent
Charlie: His side-kick
Jess: a perturbed homeowner
Jeff: the other perturbed homeowner

Place: A spacious attic in Flint, present day

(The curtain opens with Jess at the computer. She glances up toward the ceiling, annoyed, listening to the persistent gnawing. The lights fade down on Jess and come up on Rod and Charlie in the attic.)

Rod: (walking on his hind legs, using a piece of floor joist as a toothpick) Hey Charlie, here's another one of those sticky sheets, watch out for it. (talking as he expertly maneuvers around it)

Charlie: (a heavy set fellow, prone to clumsiness) Thanks, Rod. There sure are a lot of these sticky things up here these days. Where do you think they came from?

Rod: (stomping extra hard on the floor, snickering as he glances down) Oh, I have my suspicions.

(Jess angrily glances up at the ceiling, trying to will the power of x-ray vision to see the little bastard through the floor)

Charlie: Say, Rod, I'm hungry. Where should we go today?

Rod: (looking at his wristwatch on his wiry rodent arm) Hmm... well, it's about 10:30 in the morning. I'd say the humans are out of bed and are probably working on the computer, so why don't we snack above the office? That would probably piss them off most.

Charlie: (chuckling) Good one, Rod. Good one.

Rod: (clawing ferociously at a piece of insulation) And then for our lunchtime snack, we'll move over to the guest room closet at the end of the hall where the human practices the flute. I'm sure she heard us in there yesterday. I think I heard her scream a little bit. (cruel chuckling)

Charlie: (grabbing his rotund belly, shaking with laughter) Rod, you are truly inspired.

(lights fade on Rod and Charlie, and come up on Jess as she calls down the stairs to Jeff)

Jess: Jeff, do you think we should check the traps today?

Jeff: (calling back up the stairs) No, I don't think so. Remember, if we don't go up there, they won't realize they're traps and we'll be more likely to catch more.

(sounds of gnawing pervade the office)

Jess: Hmmm... I'm not so sure of that...

(Lights fade. Curtain falls with sounds of Charlie gnawing and Rod's fading laughter).

THE END.

We know you're up there...

We have creatures living in our attic. We're not sure what they are, but we know they like to chew things... because we can HEAR THEM chewing in the walls, scurrying about, wreaking havoc. We're not fond of these creatures.

Last summer, we called an animal removal place and they sent over a guy who placed a trap on our roof. At that point, we thought we were dealing with squirrels. The removal guy said that for one flat fee, he would remove an unlimited number of animals. Great! Everyone else was charging per animal, so this seemed very reasonable. Well, after our $250.00 squirrel was captured, we hoped for the best.

Flash forward to the recent past...(cue the wavy lines and tinkly music)
Laying in bed on a Sunday morning...
Me: (stiffening at the recognizable sound) Do you hear that?

Jeff: (groaning) Yes.

Me: Crap.

We've been talking about how we should really get up into the attic to investigate, but, gosh darn it, things always seem to come up that would be much more fun, like ANYTHING! So this past weekend when my dear, sweet sister and her affable and capable boyfriend were visiting my parents, we convinced him to come help Jeff deal with this problem in exchange for food. Because he's in college and food is always welcome, he agreed.

Mom, Mel, and I took off for IKEA (the happiest place on earth) and left Jeff and Hans (not his real name ;) ) to take of the problem. Their plan: go buy a million glue traps and spread them out all over the attic. We called at regular intervals to check on the progress. Each time, Jeff answered a little out of breath and assured me of their progress. It was hot, this was hard, yeah, they've seen lots of evidence of some sort of creature, it was difficult work, but yeah, they were really working hard, etc... I was even feeling a little guilty...we had been gone for about 4 or so hours and they had been working in the sweltering attic all afternoon...

We got home and they had finished the job. As I was showing Jeff my latest treasures from IKEA, he made his confession. Here's a dramatization of the account.

(cue wavy lines and tinkly music)
Jeff: Hey Hans, as long as we're at Wal-Mart getting these traps, let's go check out the bb guns.

Hans: Okay.

Jeff: (holding a bb gun in his hands looking a lot like that kid in A Christmas Story) Cooooooooooooooollllll....

Hans: (who is a very capable outdoorsman who provided this year's Thanksgiving main course by killing it with his bare hands) Yeah, it's cool.

Jeff: (who had a somewhat sheltered childhood...indoors) You know, this could come in handy. I mean, when we catch the mice or rats or whatever, we can't just let them stay on the glue sheet until they die. It would be much more humane to get it over with right away. Plus, IT WOULD BE SO COOL TO SHOOT THINGS!

Jeff buys the bb gun. They spread the traps and are finished in a cool 1 hour flat.

Jeff: (with a slight dampness in his eyes, cradling his bb gun in his arms) Hans, in this moment, I have finally fulfilled my childhood dream. (a deep sigh of happiness) Let's shoot stuff.

Hans: Cool.

So, they opened the sliding door to the back patio in the backyard, lined up 4 Coke cans and shot them to pieces for the next 3 hours...

We still haven't caught anything. But Jeff can hit the "C" in Coke with amazing precision.

Life is sweeter...

Yeah, I've decided I'm not so into keeping track of my candy consumption on my blog because a) who wants to read about that? and b) I just don't want to. So, I'm going to try and eat less candy and that will be that. Cool? :)

Will punch for food

How many calories are there in 1 M&M? Okay, more importantly than that, how many jab-cross punch combos do I need to do to cancel it out??!!

Just kidding, kind of... Here's the problem with exercising: it makes me hungry. It's this horrible catch-22 phenomenon. I think, Hey! I'll go to the gym, ride the bike, do a little walking, take a walk with Jeff tonight after dinner, and then eat 28 peanut M&Ms.

So, I have to resort to self-tattling. It was something I was trying to avoid, but clearly, I'm not strong enough to do this on my own. I will henceforth be instituting a daily M&M count, starting from now (which will conveniently let me omit the small handful of M&Ms I just had walking upstairs to the computer...hey, how many M&Ms can I have for walking up the stairs?... 1? 2?...)

5:31pm
M&Ms: 0, 3 at 9:03pm
Reese's Pieces: 0
Jelly Bellys: 0
Ghirardelli chocolate squares: 0

(What can I say? Jeff loves candy and apparently has much more self-control than I do -- damn him!...)

May the force be with me.

Bobbing in time

This past Saturday I went to my first AquaBox class at the gym. Here's how it went...

I arrived about 7 minutes before the class was to begin. As I walked past the pool to my locker, I noticed about a half dozen buoyant ladies gently bobbing up and down in the pool. "Whoa, I'm late...," I thought as I scurried to throw my clothes in the locker and get out to the pool. I grabbed my new aqua shoes (black with pink trim and a zipper closure, very chic) and went inside the pool area.

"Are you coming to class today?" asked a bobbing lady. She was very smiley, and as I looked around, I noticed that most of the ladies looked very good-natured, if not what might be considered 'in shape'. Several of them were wearing shower caps and a couple had those swim caps that buckle under your chin. I believe that I may have been the youngest in the pool by a good 35 or 40 years or so. "I am!" I replied. "Is it hard?" "Oh, no!" said the bobbing lady, "It's much easier than on land." (This actually made me a little apprehensive because I really did want a good workout and I was VERY hopeful that this would be a good class because the meeting time worked out so well with my schedule during the year).

I hopped in the pool by the stairs, which was about 3' deep. The bobbing ladies were already spaced evenly in 2 rows, and I could tell they were exactly where they wanted to be, so I squished in by the steps. Behind me, the pool gently sloped down to a total of 5'. Before we started, I noticed a nice older lady right behind me with white hair and very red eyes. I can only assume her eyes were that red because she kept going below the surface of the water at regular intervals, seeing as she was approximately 4'5", and the water was 4'4". I suggested we switch places since I was taller, but she assured me that no, thank you, she was fine. Okey-doke.

So the music starts and we begin. And really, it literally is kickboxing under water. Contrary to what the nice bobbing lady told me, if you're doing it right, IT'S REALLY HARD!!! So as I continued to struggle against the water, I began to laugh a little bit here and there because I couldn't believe HOW HARD THIS WAS! One by one the bobbing ladies would turn toward me and laugh a little bit themselves. "Don't worry, dear, it gets easier," one of them said. Thank god!

I was getting into a good groove, really giving the water a serious thrashing, when I felt a little tap on my shoulder. There was the little white-haired lady looking a little panic-stricken. "Excuse me," she gasped, spitting out a little bit of pool water, "would you mind if we traded places now?" Good grief! "No, please!"

After the class ended, I got out of the pool and started to head toward the locker when I noticed that almost the entire class moved directly from the pool to the huge whirlpool tub. I thought that looked pretty good, so I hopped in, too. "Wow," I said to no one in particular, "that was pretty tough!" Mm-hmm, murmured the now-still ladies. They tilted their shower cap-clad heads back and closed their eyes, and I relaxed a little bit more, perfectly happy to be exactly where I was.

Congratulations, fspaflutist! You've won!

These are Franco Sarto boots. They have a leather foot and a suede upper. They are beautiful, in my opinion, and I won them yesterday on eBay for $19.99. It's true. (This is a fabulous price, by the way, for people who may not know... Mom... :)


I love eBay. But I would not classify myself as a casual shopper. I always go in with a specific item in mind, and when I find it, which I almost always have, it is such a gratifying experience. Here is a catalogue of my prizes from eBay.

• Eugene Goossens' Four Sketches for flute, violin, and piano (score and parts). This was my first purchase and it had all of the elements that made it a classic eBay victory. It was the only item of its kind available (indeed, this piece is out of print), I was pitted against another bidder, and the auction ended at midnight. I put in my initial bid and then two minutes later ran back to the computer to enter my highest bid, just in case the other person outbid me. For 2 days I watched as the other bidder would tentatively raise their bid only to be instantly outbid by me (automatically done by the computer) "Ha, ha, ha" I would laugh to myself as I tapped my fingers together. But then, the other bidder disappeared altogether. "Perhaps I scared her off!" I thought triumphantly. I started to develop paranoia, though, "where did she go? Is she waiting, silently, in the wings to try and pounce at the last minute?" My eyes, red from staring suspiciously at the computer screen, were tired and ached for sleep. And then, 3 minutes before the auction ended at midnight, there she was with another bid, only this time it was much higher. My heart started beating faster -- I really wanted this music -- and I typed in my bid. Shoot, typed it in wrong -- delete, delete -- entered it in again, press submit, YES! made it! Midnight, auction over and the music was mine!
• A pair of REALLY fantastic jeans that retail for well over $100 in exactly the size and style I wanted for $38.
• A second magical swimsuit (because this find was just too good to only own 1) for $9
• And now, these fabulous boots which I needed because I literally walked my old ones to death in Paris. What a romantic way to die. If you're a boot.... ah, Paris...

I've thought about trying to sell things on eBay, like my friend who even has her own store, but I think that's a little more than I can do. For now, I'll just stick to finding fabulous treasures that I can't live without.

A few of my favorite things

Here's a picture of my wonderful husband, taken almost 6 years ago exactly on our honeymoon in Maine.

After 6 years, I am still learning things about him... Here are some of my favorite things. :)

• I had no idea (neither of us did, actually) that Jeff really has curly hair. And by curly, I mean curls that women would die for (we know this because women, often complete strangers, tell him this frequently).

• That Jeff has a serious talent for cooking. I once read somewhere that in order to be a great cook, one must be generous of spirit. That's so true. To take the time that he does to make everything to the best of his ability without cutting corners and without trying to find an easier, but not quite as good, way of doing things takes a person who truly wants to give to others.

• My husband is a kick-ass jazz saxophonist. I knew he had an undergraduate degree in jazz studies, but when we met during our masters degrees, he was strictly about classical saxophone. I never heard a single note of jazz from him until...hmm... 4 or 5 years after we were married. And then, he practiced his butt off and now sounds so good. I'm so impressed. To me, he is a rock star.