Sunday, October 30, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think

1. Unbreakable :: Bond

2. Have Mercy :: Pity

3. Do It Better :: Improve

4. Settle Scores :: Revenge

5. Comments :: Thoughts

6. Craziest Thing :: The Ringer

7. Apple :: PIE!

8. Halloween :: Candy

9. Maneagable :: Easy

10. Trick :: Or Treat


And now for the saga of the Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwich, also known as The Ringer:

One year on our way home from Hatteras, North Carolina, we stopped at my Grandparents in Washington DC for a one-hour pit stop, which included lunch, bathroom, and taking a deep breath before we piled back in the car again for another 10 or so hours. My Grandfather, an imposing, crusty, retired Naval Captain handed us a bag right before we left. "This is for your trip home," he said, with a mischievously sinister tone of voice. "Don't look at it until you've left."

YoungerBrother Tuna and I could hardly stand it. "What's in it? What's in it?"

"Some sandwiches," he said. "And....The Ringer."

"What's the ringer?"

"I can't tell you," he said. "You'll figure it out."

Imaging chocolate, money or other unknown prizes (what were we thinking, anyway? This was The Captain, afterall), we gleefully took the bag and climbed back into the car. Finally it was time to dig into the sandwiches. They all seemed normal until YBTuna found The Ringer:

Peanut Butter and Pickles.
Have Mercy.

Happy Halloween.

Mutter along HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And You Think

1. Unbreakable :: Bond

2. Have Mercy :: Pity

3. Do It Better :: Improve

4. Settle Scores :: Revenge

5. Comments :: Thoughts

6. Craziest Thing :: The Ringer

7. Apple :: PIE!

8. Halloween :: Candy

9. Maneagable :: Easy

10. Trick :: Or Treat


And now for the saga of the Peanut Butter and Pickle Sandwich, also known as The Ringer:

One year on our way home from Hatteras, North Carolina, we stopped at my Grandparents in Washington DC for a one-hour pit stop, which included lunch, bathroom, and taking a deep breath before we piled back in the car again for another 10 or so hours. My Grandfather, an imposing, crusty, retired Naval Captain handed us a bag right before we left. "This is for your trip home," he said, with a mischievously sinister tone of voice. "Don't look at it until you've left."

YoungerBrother Tuna and I could hardly stand it. "What's in it? What's in it?"

"Some sandwiches," he said. "And....The Ringer."

"What's the ringer?"

"I can't tell you," he said. "You'll figure it out."

Imaging chocolate, money or other unknown prizes (what were we thinking, anyway? This was The Captain, afterall), we gleefully took the bag and climbed back into the car. Finally it was time to dig into the sandwiches. They all seemed normal until YBTuna found The Ringer:

Peanut Butter and Pickles.
Have Mercy.

Happy Halloween.

Mutter along HERE.

Monday, October 24, 2005

This is Halloween

My child is trying to kill me.

I nearly had a stroke when TinyTuna announced this weekend that she was too old for the pumpkin patch. "We can just go and get one at the store." she said.

I peeled out of the parking lot and drove to the store as fast as possible before she changed her mind ... or aliens let her re-enter her body .. or sucked me out of this hella pleasant alternate universe.

We made it to the store in record time, and found the large cardboard box of pumpkins that were all of $2.88 apiece. It was cheap. It was beautiful. It was painless. It was dirt-free, hay-free, patch-free, rotten pumpkin all over your shoes-free. As I stood in the 12 item or less U-Scan line, I was certain that this, THIS was what heaven would be like.

And then today....

As we came home tonight and walked through the drizzle toward the house, she asked me if we would still go trick or treating if it is raining outside. But she's not asking in that passionately defiant "neither rain nor snow" kind of voice. No. I hear the unmistakable trace of "...because I'm starting to think that trick or treating in the cold, nasty rain is a pain in the pink princess pumpkin pail..."

I looked at her and said, "Listen. If you want, I would be more than happy to go to the grocery store, buy you a bag of whatever you want, and then on Halloween night we can go to the movies."

"REALLY?" She asked.

"Oh yeah. You say the word. I'll go right now."

"Well...." The nanoseconds seemed like nanohours as she pondered this suddenly appealing option. My heart began to race. I clutched my cars keys. COULD I BE THIS LUCKY?????

"Next year. When I'm 12."

She had better not be toying with me.

This is Halloween

My child is trying to kill me.

I nearly had a stroke when TinyTuna announced this weekend that she was too old for the pumpkin patch. "We can just go and get one at the store." she said.

I peeled out of the parking lot and drove to the store as fast as possible before she changed her mind ... or aliens let her re-enter her body .. or sucked me out of this hella pleasant alternate universe.

We made it to the store in record time, and found the large cardboard box of pumpkins that were all of $2.88 apiece. It was cheap. It was beautiful. It was painless. It was dirt-free, hay-free, patch-free, rotten pumpkin all over your shoes-free. As I stood in the 12 item or less U-Scan line, I was certain that this, THIS was what heaven would be like.

And then today....

As we came home tonight and walked through the drizzle toward the house, she asked me if we would still go trick or treating if it is raining outside. But she's not asking in that passionately defiant "neither rain nor snow" kind of voice. No. I hear the unmistakable trace of "...because I'm starting to think that trick or treating in the cold, nasty rain is a pain in the pink princess pumpkin pail..."

I looked at her and said, "Listen. If you want, I would be more than happy to go to the grocery store, buy you a bag of whatever you want, and then on Halloween night we can go to the movies."

"REALLY?" She asked.

"Oh yeah. You say the word. I'll go right now."

"Well...." The nanoseconds seemed like nanohours as she pondered this suddenly appealing option. My heart began to race. I clutched my cars keys. COULD I BE THIS LUCKY?????

"Next year. When I'm 12."

She had better not be toying with me.

Boy, Oh Boy

Conversation held a couple weeks ago as I made vet appointments for the kittens:
Vet Phone Type Person: OK, let me get the information on your kittens. Let's start with the little girl. What is her name?
GreenTuna: Well...that depends. What is her name or what do we call her?
Vet Phone Type Person: Whatever you'd like me to write on her chart.
GreenTuna: Ok. Her name is Gabby. Short for Gabriella. Also known as Gabriella Shmabriella. Or Gabby Doodle.
Vet Phone Type Person: Ok. Gabby. And the boy?
GreenTuna: His name is Milo. Short for Milo. Or, Milo-Pilo. Or, Hey! Get Down NOW!
Vet Phone Type Person: Or, Bad Kitty!?
GreenTuna: He's not bad. Just insane.

Conversation held on Friday at the Vet's Office
Slightly weirdo vet: Well, Gabby is a very cute little girl. And she is in very good shape. (Puts her down) OK, now for the other one.
GreenTuna: This is Milo.
Slightly weirdo vet: Hello Milo! Awww...Milo is a very pretty girl.
TinyTuna: WHAT?
GramTuna: HA!
GreenTuna: Crap.
TinyTuna: (reprimanding) MILO!
GreenTuna: Well, it's not like it's his fault.
GramTuna: Her fault.
GreenTuna: Milo, Milo, Milo.
TinyTuna: We have to change his name.
GramTuna: Her name.
GreenTuna: It's staying the same.
Tinytuna: We can't call a girl MILO.
GreenTuna: Sure we can.
GramTuna: How about Mi-LA?
TinyTuna: Mila! I like it! He likes it too!
GreenTuna: She.
TinyTuna: Oh yeah. She.

And so, we bid a fond farewell to Milo, brother of Gabby, and welcome Gabby's sister, Mila.
Also known as Mila-Pila.
Or, MiLoLa.
Or, Hey, Get down NOW!

It still works.

Boy, Oh Boy

Conversation held a couple weeks ago as I made vet appointments for the kittens:
Vet Phone Type Person: OK, let me get the information on your kittens. Let's start with the little girl. What is her name?
GreenTuna: Well...that depends. What is her name or what do we call her?
Vet Phone Type Person: Whatever you'd like me to write on her chart.
GreenTuna: Ok. Her name is Gabby. Short for Gabriella. Also known as Gabriella Shmabriella. Or Gabby Doodle.
Vet Phone Type Person: Ok. Gabby. And the boy?
GreenTuna: His name is Milo. Short for Milo. Or, Milo-Pilo. Or, Hey! Get Down NOW!
Vet Phone Type Person: Or, Bad Kitty!?
GreenTuna: He's not bad. Just insane.

Conversation held on Friday at the Vet's Office
Slightly weirdo vet: Well, Gabby is a very cute little girl. And she is in very good shape. (Puts her down) OK, now for the other one.
GreenTuna: This is Milo.
Slightly weirdo vet: Hello Milo! Awww...Milo is a very pretty girl.
TinyTuna: WHAT?
GramTuna: HA!
GreenTuna: Crap.
TinyTuna: (reprimanding) MILO!
GreenTuna: Well, it's not like it's his fault.
GramTuna: Her fault.
GreenTuna: Milo, Milo, Milo.
TinyTuna: We have to change his name.
GramTuna: Her name.
GreenTuna: It's staying the same.
Tinytuna: We can't call a girl MILO.
GreenTuna: Sure we can.
GramTuna: How about Mi-LA?
TinyTuna: Mila! I like it! He likes it too!
GreenTuna: She.
TinyTuna: Oh yeah. She.

And so, we bid a fond farewell to Milo, brother of Gabby, and welcome Gabby's sister, Mila.
Also known as Mila-Pila.
Or, MiLoLa.
Or, Hey, Get down NOW!

It still works.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And you think

1. Infiltration :: War

2. Nice Person :: Me

3. Debt :: Owe

4. Settle Down :: Get Married

5. Thomas :: Doubting

6. Unforgivable :: Heinous

7. Medicine :: Yuck

8. A Year From Now :: I'll be one year older

9. Neighbors :: Friends Next Door

10. Dripping :: Oozing


Gah. What a weird set of words. I guess I think I'm a nice person. And upon second thought, why is getting married the equivalent of settling down? Are unmarried people unsettled? I hardly think so. I had a hard time thinking of something for unforgivable and really the most ironic answer today is Neighbors. I have one set of neighbors who are very, very nice, and then I have another neighbor who is, well, ... not.

Mutterings can be found HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... And you think

1. Infiltration :: War

2. Nice Person :: Me

3. Debt :: Owe

4. Settle Down :: Get Married

5. Thomas :: Doubting

6. Unforgivable :: Heinous

7. Medicine :: Yuck

8. A Year From Now :: I'll be one year older

9. Neighbors :: Friends Next Door

10. Dripping :: Oozing


Gah. What a weird set of words. I guess I think I'm a nice person. And upon second thought, why is getting married the equivalent of settling down? Are unmarried people unsettled? I hardly think so. I had a hard time thinking of something for unforgivable and really the most ironic answer today is Neighbors. I have one set of neighbors who are very, very nice, and then I have another neighbor who is, well, ... not.

Mutterings can be found HERE.

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Pleasantry Peasantry


It's just another Saturday morning in the Tuna household. We begin by inhaling breakfast at the Grill Dogs in thirty minutes or less so TinyTuna can dash to choir rehearsal to sing Bach. Whilst waiting for our morning bacon, eggs and chili dogs of champions, we groggily thumb through the morning paper, looking for the obits.

What do we find? My little peasant juggling fluorescent tennis balls at the Medieval Festival they held at school yesterday. Although she was

TinyTuna: Mom, can I say the "P" word?
GreenTuna: No, you may not say the "P" word.

NOT AT ALL HAPPY (CAPS LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER) about being demoted from nobility to a peasant (the nobility costume was evidently a casualty in the basement flood), she still managed to have a really good time.

Hot pink and neon green ... it just screams 14th century, don't you think?

Pleasantry Peasantry


It's just another Saturday morning in the Tuna household. We begin by inhaling breakfast at the Grill Dogs in thirty minutes or less so TinyTuna can dash to choir rehearsal to sing Bach. Whilst waiting for our morning bacon, eggs and chili dogs of champions, we groggily thumb through the morning paper, looking for the obits.

What do we find? My little peasant juggling fluorescent tennis balls at the Medieval Festival they held at school yesterday. Although she was

TinyTuna: Mom, can I say the "P" word?
GreenTuna: No, you may not say the "P" word.

NOT AT ALL HAPPY (CAPS LOCK, BOLD, LEANED OVER) about being demoted from nobility to a peasant (the nobility costume was evidently a casualty in the basement flood), she still managed to have a really good time.

Hot pink and neon green ... it just screams 14th century, don't you think?

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

No Kidding, This Was My Email

Dear mother,
How are you this fine morning? I hope you are as good as my day has been. I have missed you this day and I can't wait to see you when you come home. Tonight for dinner is gorp and I am very hungry. I wish I had hot lunch today I forgot today was Mac & Cheese
with a garlic bread stick, but my lunch was really good too. Hope to see you soon at home to give you a big hug.
Love your daughter,

No Kidding, This Was My Email

Dear mother,
How are you this fine morning? I hope you are as good as my day has been. I have missed you this day and I can't wait to see you when you come home. Tonight for dinner is gorp and I am very hungry. I wish I had hot lunch today I forgot today was Mac & Cheese
with a garlic bread stick, but my lunch was really good too. Hope to see you soon at home to give you a big hug.
Love your daughter,

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

Many pardons. My mutterer is a bit slow this week:

I say ... And you think:

1. Quirk :: Oddity

2. Crystal :: Ball

3. Pet Peeve :: Irksome trait

4. Cuban : : Cigars

5. Breasts :: Got 'em

6. Whispers :: Secrets

7. Complicated :: Hard

8. Promise Me :: Oh

9. Murder :: Crime

10. Filament :: Light bulb


Not bad. I've never had a Cuban Cigar. Heck, I've never had any cigar. Come to think of it, I've never had a Cuban, either. I have been sitting here trying to think of a pet peeve, and aside from students not showing up (the only reason I'm typing this today), my biggest pet peeve is a peeve about my pets, which would be why oh why oh why do they save up their biggest, stinkiest poop for the nanosecond after I present them with a clean litter pan?

Just wondering....

Unconscious Mutterings

Many pardons. My mutterer is a bit slow this week:

I say ... And you think:

1. Quirk :: Oddity

2. Crystal :: Ball

3. Pet Peeve :: Irksome trait

4. Cuban : : Cigars

5. Breasts :: Got 'em

6. Whispers :: Secrets

7. Complicated :: Hard

8. Promise Me :: Oh

9. Murder :: Crime

10. Filament :: Light bulb


Not bad. I've never had a Cuban Cigar. Heck, I've never had any cigar. Come to think of it, I've never had a Cuban, either. I have been sitting here trying to think of a pet peeve, and aside from students not showing up (the only reason I'm typing this today), my biggest pet peeve is a peeve about my pets, which would be why oh why oh why do they save up their biggest, stinkiest poop for the nanosecond after I present them with a clean litter pan?

Just wondering....

Driving Me Crazy

What is it about moisture from the sky that turns the average driver into a frightened homocidal maniac? It's just rain, folks, and today it barely qualifies as that. It's more like Mitten schmutz that's barely intermittent wiper-worthy.

And yet, my commute took an extra half-hour for no reason whatsoever.

Love the schmutz.
Embrace the schmutz.
Maintain a constant speed.
Rideth not the brakes each time a droplet lands.
Or better, yet, just stay home.

Driving Me Crazy

What is it about moisture from the sky that turns the average driver into a frightened homocidal maniac? It's just rain, folks, and today it barely qualifies as that. It's more like Mitten schmutz that's barely intermittent wiper-worthy.

And yet, my commute took an extra half-hour for no reason whatsoever.

Love the schmutz.
Embrace the schmutz.
Maintain a constant speed.
Rideth not the brakes each time a droplet lands.
Or better, yet, just stay home.

Friday, October 07, 2005

Oh, Crap

Nobody can say the Tuna House isn't fun. Just ask the Toddlers.

Today, Number 1 and Number 2 discovered the quilted softness of the two-ply and spent the day whipping themselves into a frenzy as they redecorated my entire bathroom.



It reminded me of the High School Marching Band Director's front yard after the legendary TP party of 1979.


Or so I'm told.

Oh, Crap

Nobody can say the Tuna House isn't fun. Just ask the Toddlers.

Today, Number 1 and Number 2 discovered the quilted softness of the two-ply and spent the day whipping themselves into a frenzy as they redecorated my entire bathroom.



It reminded me of the High School Marching Band Director's front yard after the legendary TP party of 1979.


Or so I'm told.

Friday's Feast

It's almost lunchtime! Time for a Friday's Feast.

Appetizer: Name 3 qualities that are important to you in a friendship
First of all, a friend has to have amazing skills, like Super Spidey Sense, Invisibility and the ability to Hulk-Smash annoying people.
Secondly, a friend has to be like the three wise men, and should bring offerings of a carbonated beverage, a mock-worthy magazine and the latest gossip.
Finally, a friend has to skilled in tin-foil art (see: Halloween, Oscars)

Soup: If you could dream about anything tonight, what would the subject matter be?
Seriously, if I could take control of my dreams, I'd tell them to take a hike for a week or three. I'd dream about NOTHING, and then maybe I'd get a good night sleep.

Salad: Do you usually make an effort to personally thank people who do favors for you?
There is a critical distinction in this question: make an effort. My problem is I make an effort, but it often doesn't translate from the think-method to the do-method. Ergo, my answer is: nowhere near as often as I should. Thanks for giving me the guilts, Friday Feast.

Main Course: If you had to go out of town for an extended period of time, who would you trust to take care of your home and your belongings?
I try to parcel out these tasks. Fabio goes to Bunny Camp at BSTuna's house. Friends and/or family watch the house and get stuck with the mundane chores like watering the lawn and enduring the grumpy neighbor. Now that I have two furry toddlers, we'll have to figure out how to include them in the mix next time we're out and about.

Dessert: How do you react to practical jokes when they're played on you?
Start plotting retaliation immediately, remembering the old adage that says revenge is a dish best served cold.
Or so Flat Fabio has told me....

Friday's Feast

It's almost lunchtime! Time for a Friday's Feast.

Appetizer: Name 3 qualities that are important to you in a friendship
First of all, a friend has to have amazing skills, like Super Spidey Sense, Invisibility and the ability to Hulk-Smash annoying people.
Secondly, a friend has to be like the three wise men, and should bring offerings of a carbonated beverage, a mock-worthy magazine and the latest gossip.
Finally, a friend has to skilled in tin-foil art (see: Halloween, Oscars)

Soup: If you could dream about anything tonight, what would the subject matter be?
Seriously, if I could take control of my dreams, I'd tell them to take a hike for a week or three. I'd dream about NOTHING, and then maybe I'd get a good night sleep.

Salad: Do you usually make an effort to personally thank people who do favors for you?
There is a critical distinction in this question: make an effort. My problem is I make an effort, but it often doesn't translate from the think-method to the do-method. Ergo, my answer is: nowhere near as often as I should. Thanks for giving me the guilts, Friday Feast.

Main Course: If you had to go out of town for an extended period of time, who would you trust to take care of your home and your belongings?
I try to parcel out these tasks. Fabio goes to Bunny Camp at BSTuna's house. Friends and/or family watch the house and get stuck with the mundane chores like watering the lawn and enduring the grumpy neighbor. Now that I have two furry toddlers, we'll have to figure out how to include them in the mix next time we're out and about.

Dessert: How do you react to practical jokes when they're played on you?
Start plotting retaliation immediately, remembering the old adage that says revenge is a dish best served cold.
Or so Flat Fabio has told me....

21 Bun Salute

A birthday poem for a birthdayTuna:

Although there are no candles
Upon each furry head
It's much better to be older




Than to wake up and be dead Upside-down.



Hallmark, eat your heart out.

21 Bun Salute

A birthday poem for a birthdayTuna:

Although there are no candles
Upon each furry head
It's much better to be older




Than to wake up and be dead Upside-down.



Hallmark, eat your heart out.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

Unconscious Mutterings

Let's see how well I mutter after just waking up.

I say ... And You Think:

1. Quaint :: Cute

2. Rind :: Orange

3. Disease :: Sickness

4. Queer :: Strange

5. Pork :: Rind

6. Soaked :: Wet

7. Skeleton :: Bones

8. Mold :: YUCK

9. Finished :: Over

10. Buffalo :: Gals won't you come out tonight?


Lord. Normally I would never associate "Pork" with "Rind" if the word "Rind" hadn't just appeared. I've had them exactly once, and honestly, I don't understand the appeal. They just taste like deep fried air. It's the strangest thing.

Speaking of Skeletons, we saw Corpse Bride yesterday. It was good. It was odd, but good. Tim Burton created such a wonderful, stylized world. I've decided I like Johnny Depp much better as a voice-over than as an onscreen character (Willy Wonka, anyone?).

Finally, what exactly IS a Buffalo Gal? Is it a geographical statement or some sort of personal slam? The song seems awfully jolly to be mean, but you never know. Must be time for research...

Don't forget -- you too can mutter along HERE.

Unconscious Mutterings

Let's see how well I mutter after just waking up.

I say ... And You Think:

1. Quaint :: Cute

2. Rind :: Orange

3. Disease :: Sickness

4. Queer :: Strange

5. Pork :: Rind

6. Soaked :: Wet

7. Skeleton :: Bones

8. Mold :: YUCK

9. Finished :: Over

10. Buffalo :: Gals won't you come out tonight?


Lord. Normally I would never associate "Pork" with "Rind" if the word "Rind" hadn't just appeared. I've had them exactly once, and honestly, I don't understand the appeal. They just taste like deep fried air. It's the strangest thing.

Speaking of Skeletons, we saw Corpse Bride yesterday. It was good. It was odd, but good. Tim Burton created such a wonderful, stylized world. I've decided I like Johnny Depp much better as a voice-over than as an onscreen character (Willy Wonka, anyone?).

Finally, what exactly IS a Buffalo Gal? Is it a geographical statement or some sort of personal slam? The song seems awfully jolly to be mean, but you never know. Must be time for research...

Don't forget -- you too can mutter along HERE.