The end of the world

We're gonna have a white Christmas this year, assuming we'll manage to survive that long... It all started last Friday. Like every week, my mom took me grocery shopping. It was pure chaos. There were hundreds of completely freaked out housewives fighting over last pieces of bread and potatoes. The lines were so long you didn't see the end of them and everybody's carts were so full, you would have thought the Germans were coming to town. And the reason? It was supposed to snow on Saturday. And it did. Everything collapsed. The roads were closed, people were snowed in and the radio urged us all to stay in or if we HAD TO go out, put the snow chains on and always carry warm clothing, enough food and a battery-operated light source. As a result, only the desperate or brave ones left the safety of their homes and left to the freezing -1 C and devastating 2 cm of snow. I was one of them.

The next week, the same thing happened, again. Snow. Everybody was completely freaked out. Twice in winter? Nobody got to work. There was no way you could buy winter-formula windshield fluid or a snow shovel, and the price of the salt skyrocketed to $15 a bag. But this time, it got worse. It was snowing for a whole day and there was a foot of snow covering the streets. Garbage trucks gave up, mailmen gave up. People panicked. They haven't seen this much snow since the 40s and they were not prepared for it. Some of them tried to leave their homes by simply getting to the car and hoping the snow would melt under their car's exhaust pipes, others tried use their blowers and rakes to fight the frozen unknown, and a few people, the innovators of the innovators embraced it and skied their way around a parking lot.

Today is December 23rd and the snow is still there. Every day I wake up and look out of the window only to find it laying on the street, on the roof, and on the overflowing garbage cans. It is still one more day till Christmas and I desperately hope I'll live long enough to see all the presents. I don't have any rolls left and my yogurt supply is running low, my dad cannot get to work, my mom couldn’t take me for a Christmas ride because the train has no winter tires, our dog has to pee standing up… it is the end of the world as I got to know it. Only the strong survive. Only the brave ones will live to see the light of spring. Please, Santa, make me one of them.

All pooped-out

Yeah, yeah, I should try writing my blog regularly but it seems much easier to write it on a day such as this one. It started last night. I fell asleep like any other day and then I was up in an hour and couldn't fall back asleep. Know what I mean? No matter how much you try, how much milk you drink, how many stupid thoughts you try not to have, how many farm animals you count… nothin'. Luckily, dad and I have an understanding of sorts and we spent the rest of the night hanging out Triangle club at GTA. And this morning I started cruisin'. And our dog started poopin'. We came back from the doctor (the finger's fine now - like I needed her to tell me that, I bit off them stitches more than two days ago), anyway, we got home and the crate and the dog were pooped all over. It was gross. And did you know that a dog can poop out of both ends? I am sorry to say, I saw it with my own eyes and it will haunt me for years to come. And now, it'll haunt you too. Aren't you glad you read my blog?

Up and down and up and down (with a stop at ER)

I'm getting real tired of these ups and downs. It's not I don't like excitement or surprises in my life (the jack-in-the-box thing is quite funny) but sometimes life seems to be pushing it a little too much. And not even two Ganeshas in one household seem to be able to do anything about it. Let me briefly recapitulate our Washington experience. It's quite hilarious. Since we came here, our dog got a parasitic infection and hives, my mom threw up like never before and my dad got a food poisoning. We went to Mt. Rainier and it was unbelievably gorgeous, we met some great friends and basically all the people we met since were so nice it would make a New-Jersian sick (luckily I am not one, I was just born there). Let me go faster now. The movers moved all our stuff for us and broke half of it. The dog ran away and came back. We met a lot of Czech people and most of them didn't even reply to our greeting. And last but not least, we found a great furniture store with a free on-site designer and amazing Indian and Chinese furniture. We got a baby-proofed ottoman (among other crap) and in 10 minutes after they delivered it, I managed to get my finger in. I ended up on a local ER and got 6 stitches. Again, the doctor was crazy nice and it was quite fun watching him sew my hand together. After the operation that made my dad green and my mom shaky, I got a stuffed zebra that's called "Bear" and got a lot of compliments for my walking. Whatever. The only thing that's really driving me nuts now is that I can't crawl. At least that's what my mom says all the time. But, again, on the UP side, it will go great with my dead-pirate Halloween costume tomorrow as I go dancing to a local strip club. I just hope chicks still dig that.

Bekvarm, Applad, Avsik… what the frak?

Today was just like any other day… for the past week, or year, or so. We went furniture scouting. Scouting over, yet again. I don't know just how many furniture stores can there be left in the King county. Hopefully not many. Don't take me wrong, some of them are fun but the ones we saw today were a little sucky. And let's face it how big a difference can there really be between their chair and their chair? I'm gonna chew on them both without discrimination...

But to our exciting day... first store we saw had the famous lion-leg-furniture fetish, the second one was kind-a trendy but the chairs had price stickers for 4k or so, the third one was my favorite. It was owned and operated by a skinny Indian guy who obviously missed the 80s era and tried to compensate for his loss with tons and tons of highly polished furniture and huge butt-ugly sofas. And the last one? It looked so bad from the outside, we didn't even dare going in.

Overall, let my just say: Lords of Cobol - bless Ikea. Their furniture may be crappy, but at least they make good meatballs. And you learn a lot Swedish curse words while you're at it (seriously, what else would all these Detolfs, Ektorps, and Besta Enoms stand for?).

What's wrong with us?

I haven't written anything in a while but that isn't because nothing crazy, totally ridiculous, and unbelievably frakked-up has happened… it's more like 'cause so many crazy, totally ridiculous, and unbelievably frakked-up things did happen. First, our dog started pooping all over the apartment which resulted in my parents going crazy, dog trying to conceal it, and me not being able to crawl anymore anywhere. It sucked. Then she started to look all funny… her body was filled with huge blisters, her lip got so big she looked like a mean bulldog, and her neck had a gross ball under it. It was so ugly I thought we are taking her to the vet to put her down. But, she got some pills for it, allergy or whatever, and got a poop test for the poop. Well, it turned out she's full of tiny little parasites. So, even before my parents figured out how to get her to eat those two pills three times a day, she needed more pills. Yup, it was fun, kind-a gross, but fun.

Then, my parents took me to some Indian restaurant. Boy, am I glad I didn't eat that stuff. It smelled real nice and first, I was kind-a jealous but that went away real soon. Both mom and dad got really sick. I mean "really" sick. And dad was disabled even the next day, no matter how much I tried to get his mind off it by jumping on his stomach and trying to fit my Tylenol bottle into his nose.

I have just one small question and then I go. What is it here that makes my family so sick? My mom was throwing up like crazy, then the dog got blisters and parasites, and then both of my parents got poisoned. I mean, is it just karma compensating for everything that goes well in our lives or is Washington's air really so frakking clean in makes our New Jersian bodies collaps?!

And when's my turn?

Wanna go farming?

If you wanna buy a house, you want Vivian; whether you know it or not. First I thought she was a little hyper but it seems that hyperactivity is the best trait when it comes to real estate. Just so that you see where all this house-hunting mania came from: daddy said that if I am a good boy on the plane, he’s gonna buy me a house. And I figured, I’ll take him up on it.

So, he had to ask Microsoft for a realtor. We got one and she took us out today. First, it was kind-a scary. She had a you-re-never-gonna-get-a-good-house-in-this-price-range-anywhere-round-here speech, and while she was talking we were passing these dilapidated farmhouses from 18-hundreds. I was almost freaking out and screaming at daddy that I was only kidding ‘bout the house… but then, she made a sharp turn and took us to a great neighborhood to a new house with 3 bedrooms, a den, huge light kitchen and living room, 2 garages, 3 bathrooms and a space under the stairs that is so big, that Harry could have sublet if he lived with us. Damn cool. I especially loved my new suite with a corner bath. I just hope my parents can fit into the nursery. And that we can buy it. And that we will.

Sunny

OK, so maybe uncle Jon didn’t babble that much. It was pretty sunny today. We went to a nearby park and got high on a double-shot espresso caramel blended ice coffee and went bio-shopping and did some more of these boring things. Nothing special. The weather was pretty neat though.