the Forty Sixth Story

When I was a tiny thing, I was afraid of snakes. My mother was not the type to accept unreasonable fear, so she decided that she was gonna break me of that one by catching one of those pretty little green grass snakes and bringing it in for me to play with. She caught it fine, and brought it in, but when she went to show it to me, it bit her. They don't have teeth, but they do have sharp grinding plates and powerful jaws- she ended up yelling and waving her hands in the air, with this long streamer of bright green snake flying out behind one of them. It was hilarious. Pretty much cured me of my fear of snakes, though I do still have a healthy respect for the big ones.

the forty fifth story

Waiting in line at the taco counter I was conversing with the fellow in front of me. In the conversation it came up that I seldom go there, and was only there this day because I was on my way to pick up my partner. He got his tacos to go, and left. When I went to pay, I was told that he'd already done so. I generally think i have a pretty positive view of the world, but it never would have occurred to me that a fellow would buy my lunch knowing that i'm taken and that he's unlikely to see me again to even get a thank you. Yay world! Yay free tacos!

the Forty Fourth Story

The Mushroom story: (this one's good! it has a punchline! it's worth reading to the end)I lived in one apartment for almost the entire time I was at Massart, but during that time, lots of folks moved in and out. After I'd been there for six months, everyone but me left, and Svea, Tom, and Sonia all moved in. This was ideal. Everyone got along, everyone had similar ideas of personal space, things were great. Svea moved out and Tyrell moved in. Things were still great.  Sonia moved out and Amber moved in. Amber was one of those folks who think all chores need to be divided up evenly. Previously, Tom pretty much didn't clean, but he regularly made chilli and cheese cakes, and that was a fine balance, as far as I was concerned. I kept the bathroom and counters cleaned. Everybody did their dishes. Sonia made everything pretty. When Sonia moved out and Amber moved in, and it looked like a bachelor pad; things weren't really neat, but it still totally worked. Then Amber decided we needed a chore schedule. This pissed off everyone, and everyone, without talking about, decided they were only doing chores as they were assigned, but mostly still only did the chores that they had been doing before the schedule. So now the bathroom was only getting cleaned when it was "my" month to clean it. One month, on Amber's turn, she made everything in there REALLY neat. Cleaned the mirror so it shone. Put the shampoo bottles in order by size. Looked great.
That night, Dustin was over. About three AM he got up to go to the bathroom. He shouted back "Kest, come here! You've got to see this!" There is, I thought, nothing I could need to see in my bathroom at three am. I shouted back a simple "no". He insisted. I put on a bathrobe and went out, bitching in my head. There, though, in the corner of the bathroom, were mushrooms. Sprouting right from the floor. They were aesthetically pleasing, and also absolutely hilarious, particularly after the scene Amber had made about how she was the only one who ever really got anything clean in the house. Dustin and I stood there and laughed for a while, I took a picture, and we went to bed. I left the mushrooms in place, knowing that Tom would enjoy them at least as much as I had.
In the morning, I got up and asked Tom if he'd seen the mushrooms. He hadn't, and I took him in to show him, but they were gone! We were both upset by this tragedy, and asked Amber if she knew anything about it. She was livid, and utterly unamused.

The Forty Third Story

This story is from the first time I went to Thailand.  Across the street from the Grand Palace campus is Wat Pho. This temple is only just bigger than the Buddha it houses. There are two doors, one on each side of the head, such that you walk in, do a "u" around the feet of the Buddha, and walk out just about 20 feet from the entrance. There is no point where you are far enough away to see the whole Buddha- instead, one contemplates details. When we were there the first time, there were scaffolds set up to do some upkeep on the Buddha. We walked in and heard this metallic "tiktiktiktiktiktiktik". I assumed it was tiny hammers, associated with the repairs, but it was quickly evident that no one was working. When we finally made it around to the other side of the Buddha, we discovered the source of the sound. Hundreds of tiny metal bowls were set on stands, and, for luck, many folks were walking down the line, putting 1 baht coins in each of the bowls. Bowls had different tones based on their own make, as well as how much weight was in them. Monks came along and emptied the bowls at regular intervals, updating the sound

A photo of a small section of the Reclining Buddha

the Forty Second Story

When I dropped out of Oberlin, I called up my mother first. This decision was based soley on the fact that she, too, had taken the long route to graduation, so I figured she'd understand. I told her I had dropped out, she asked if I planned to go back, I said yes, and that was that. I didn't manage to get in touch with my dad till that night, and somehow, either through mom or my brother, he had heard before I got a chance to talk with him. I hadn't even said anything, and he was terribly upset- it sounded, over the phone, as though he might be crying. My dad doesn't cry. This was disturbing. We talked around in circles for a bit before he blurted out "But why did you have to elope? You could have told us, we would have supported you!" I was baffled. I had no idea what was going on. I assured my father that I was not married, nor was I knocked up. It wasn't until later that I made the connection that, progressive as he may be in his thoughts, in the world he was raised in those are the only reasons a woman drops out of school.

The Forty First Story

Takes place during the one semester I spent at Kent State University. The parking for commuting students was quite far from campus, and in the beginning, I had to wait for a shuttle after class to take me back to my car. After a few weeks, I made friends with a fellow who for reasons I do not remember got to park right on campus, and on days when we got out at around the same time, he'd wait around and give me a ride. One afternoon, we dropped by the local camera shop - I think he had film to pick up from a recent vacation or something. In retrospect, I was probably supposed to ask to see the pictures, and then ooh and aah over them. Instead, we walked in and I immediately spotted a object which I had been coveting, and had been unable to find, for years. There it was- a perfect little 50mm fixed focal length macro lens for my old OM-1. I needed that lens. I didn't have my wallet. And, on the spot, I asked this fellow to borrow two hundred dollars. Poor kid, there's this gal who you don't know at all but you've been kinda trying to pick up, and she asks you for the equivalent to a full month's rent. He was so utterly shocked that he agreed. I did pay him back the next day, and he did keep giving me rides, but I think he stopped trying to flirt after that. win-win.

the fortieth story

This one is also at the pet store, and happened relatively soon after I started, so not long after my 16th birthday. I include that as an anti embarrassment feature, because this is stupid even for me.

Whoever was opening the store would come in at least an hour before the shop was to open- this gave time to clean the cages, scoop out dead fish, and generally make the idea of having pets look appealing instead of like drudgery.Tasks included cleaning all the fish tanks; they were on one system, so you could simply set the siphon going in the end tank, effectively run the water backwards, and there you'd have it, clean water. It was, though, very important to stop running the siphon. The first morning I was there by myself, I forgot that last bit. I flooded the store pretty thoroughly. I had flooded it to the point that there was water flowing out the front door. And I couldn't find a damned mop. So I did what any self respecting young girl would do in a difficult situation- I called my dad. This was another of our entertainingly cryptic phone conversations. "Dad- do we have a mop at home?" "I'll be right there, Princess" (yes, my dad calls me princess sometimes. Drop it.) Between the two of us, we had the whole mess cleaned up well before opening, but my brand new boss, when she came in, was VERY suspicious of the clean floor.