Cork Grandpas and power outages
Jan. 23rd, 2005 11:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
la_belle_laideIt's not funny in the retelling, and sadly, even if you had been there, it might not have been funny anyway. But I like to remember the things that made me laugh so hard that I fell down with tears streaming out of my eyes, so I have to record this here.
On Thursday at work, Jenn B. and I were talking about accents. She mentioned that she could listen to the Australian accent all day, and I replied that I was fond of the Irish accent. Now, what I meant to say after that, and indeed what I said in my brain, was, "My great grandfather was from county Cork in Ireland." What actually came out of my mouth was a very vacant sounding, "My grandfather was cork."
Jenn B. looked at me funny and said, "Wha?" but I was already laughing. "From Cork!" I corrected, but the damage was already done, and then I went on to say, "Yes, my grandfather was cork; we used to pin notes on him. No one ever forgot anything when he was around."
So you know, Jenn B. is one of these people with whom I can take a joke to its most bizarre limits and beyond, and it's still funny. When we get going on something funny we're like pit bulls on it. And it just builds and builds. All of the following nonsense took a lot longer to say than it takes to read, because we were laughing so freaking hard we couldn't get the stupid words out.
Jenn: Granpa was cork! Whenever we had family gatherings, we'd break out the darts.
Me: You could change his entire demeanor by moving around a few tacks. Oh, look, Grampa's happy now!
Jenn: My grandfather was actually styrofoam. He made that awful noise that still hurts my teeth to this day. We always knew when he and Grandma were doing it.
Me: But I'll bet he kept everything really fresh. He must have been great at picnics.
Jenn: And at baseball games. We used to always make him hold the beer.
Me: It was sad when he died, but he stayed so fresh.
Jenn: In fact, when Grandma died, we put her in him!
Me: *Dies laughing all over the exam table and is dead for a few minutes, then revives.* But you know, if your Grandfather had been at all environmentally aware, he would have been cardboard instead. But, it was a whole other generation. They didn't know about recycling.
Jenn: My other grandfather was cardboard.
Me: He must have hated the rain.
Jenn: Whenever he got wet, we'd have to put him in front of the fireplace with books on him.
This actually went on for about twenty minutes, with various people going in and out of the lab, just not getting the joke, but thinking it was pretty funny to watch us laughing so hard that we couldn't stand up. Then yesterday we had to tell everyone who had missed the merriment the entire story. Just so happened that everytime we told it to someone new, Nancy was around, so by the fifth or so telling, she was just sick of it.
It's very hard to kill The Funny for me. A few months ago our boss left a ski magazine in the lunchroom and it had an ad for a place called Crested Butte. I know it's not pronounced the way it looks, but Jenn W. and I had such a blast with that stupid add. I can't even remember what it said, only that the level of our immaturity was astounding. We were giggling over it when the boss went through the lunchroom on his way to the bank, and when he returned a half an hour later, we were still giggling over it, like freaking Beavis and Butthead.
Yes, folks, it is really that easy to amuse me sometimes.
But it also helps if you're with people who make you laugh anyway. Especially with all the drama we have at work, once in a while it seems like the stupidest things are unbearably hilarious. I think it has more to do with the people, and with the idea of laughing and letting off steam than it has to do with the actual subject matter.
Or, maybe not. Because, come on. "Crested Butte." *giggle*
In other news, the power went out last night at around midnight, and stayed out until 2 AM. This is a pain in the butt most of the time, but for someone in my situation, it's a complete stress. First and least important, I'm on the ground floor which is very drafty, and I've got loads of exotic plants. The sunroom isn't insulated as well as the rest of the apartment, and what was worse is that's where Pendragon stays. As soon as the electricity went off, the temperature plummeted about ten degrees in the first half an hour. No big deal for most, I mean, it's not like it's freezing in the house. But Pendragon is one of those delicate tropical creatures, so to him, sixty degrees is just about freezing. 12:30 in the morning and here I am, dragging his huge 8X5X3 wood and metal and plastic terrarrium into my kitchen, where I can't get around it but at least it's about five degrees warmer, and covering the terrarrium with all manner of blankets. I was stressing over it and then feeling guilty about stressing, because there are people today who don't have the luxury of worrying about exotic plants and pets, because they're too busy worrying about keeping themselves warm enough to live, while I've got a comforter over me and two dogs in two cuddly beds.
The power came on at 2 AM, and stayed on till 9:30, then it was gone again.
My Dad can be pretty inventive. My parents have a fireplace, and he threw one of my Mom's old cake pans into the fire for a few minutes, wrapped it in a blanket, and told me to put it in Pendragon's terrarrium. It worked really well. It didn't raise the ambient temperature, but at least Pendragon could lie on it and keep warm. Poor green boya was practically hugging the makeshift heating pad.
Now the other worry, you see, is my 85 year old diabetic Grandma, who also lives on the ground floor. But she just bundled herself up and waited it out. Electricity came back on at around eleven.
My fingers are crossed that it stays on. I can't keep up with trying to keep everything warm enough to function. Also, I'll be writing today, probably compulsively hitting CTRL S after every word. O_o
This morning I had a dream that I was in New Orleans talking to Jonathan Rhys Meyers at a cafe. I was really mad because there was no power on Long Island and I remember I told him, "LIPA is the worst power company in the world. Look it up in the internet, you'll see! Also, order some books on quantum physics." O_o
Mmmm. Temp in Pendragon's room is up to 79, which is still ten degrees lower than it should be, and that's with all the heaters cranked to the max. Meanwhile, I can't open my side door. This is a bit more than 18 inches, I think. And, of course, I'm taking loads of pictures.
ETA Johnny Carson died last night. Damn crap. I had the hugest crush on him when I was a little kid.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-01-24 07:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-24 03:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-25 04:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-25 05:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 05:50 am (UTC)Anyhoo. . .yeah. Vincent. *drools* I should draw him.
Again.
In stealth pron again. XD
'Crested Butte'
*dies*
CZ, ded and dedder. ;P
no subject
Date: 2005-01-27 05:58 am (UTC)Who knew 20 pounds of personality could get packed into 3 ounces???
But I blame you anyways. ;P
CZ