Yesterday I went through my old voicemail messages. For those of you time-traveling from 1997, voicemail is sort of like an answering machine, but without tape. Also, if you're heading back to 1997 after reading my blog, watch out for hanging chads, terrorist attacks, my adolescence, natural disasters, "social networking," war and genocide. Man/woman, the winter has really gotten to me.
Anyway, the following was one of the voicemails I found. It references a rather more mild natural disaster than the ones I presaged above for our time-traveling friends.
Hi, it's Mom. As you may have heard, there was a storm in Brooklyn and people think there was actually a tornado that went through. So I just wanted to let you know that we're okay and no trees fell on us, or our house, or our car. Bye-bye, honey.
I'm sorry if you did not find that message funny. That would mean either that you have no sense of humor or that you are illiterate; both are rather tragic alternatives.
I will now liven up this post with some rather more pleasant thoughts. Sarah A. recommended that I list some of my favorite smells, so here are a few:
-vanilla
-salt water (usu. in ocean form)
-onions sautéing
-lavender
-an owl OR a cat OR a toad
If you would like to please Sarah A.'s olfactor,* by the way, you should use grapefruit.
*Yes, I just nominalized "olfactory."
No comments:
Post a Comment