Last night, Rebecca and I went to Whole Foods to get some snacks! We got back in the car, armed with natural potato chips, dried pineapple rings, english muffins, gluten-free cookies, etc. I had an undeniable feeling something good was about to happen, so I turned on the radio. My hunch was correct; a Radiohead song was on.
Rebecca uses an iPod transmitter in her car, so on the rare occasion that she forgets to bring her iPod, we are left to scour the airwaves for something decent to listen to. This is a formidable challenge, and we both have been guilty of passively letting some nasty tripe play on at times. There is a lot of real crap out there.
So, imagine our good fortune, as we sat in the Whole Foods parking lot, snacking on our natural treats, enjoying a Radiohead tune.
That alone is cause for celebration, but it turns out that we actually caught the middle of a special broadcast. They were playing a bunch of Radiohead tracks, interspersed with some commentary and interview clips with the band. Everyone had English accents, like it was story time...
We went back to my place and ran in the house, letting the groceries fall where they may. I plugged in my little clock radio and tuned into the station. We sat in my room, huddled around the radio like it was the great depression, excited about our lucky timing. At the first commercial break, I put my herbs on the stove to boil.
The program was cool. When it was over, we turned the radio off. Better to quit while we're ahead. We got to talking, did a little reading (Lost Horizon), some stretching. I heard my roommate, Jocelyn, on the other side of my door:
"Are you cooking something??"
Oh shit. Forgot about those herbs. I sprung up, whipped my door open. The house was full of stinky smoke. Very cloudy. If the place wasn't so dark, I would've thought the kitchen was on fire. I ran to the stove, turned the heat off. I took my very hot herb pot outside and set it on the concrete. We opened all the windows and doors. This morning, there was still some odor in the place, but I think it will go away soon.
An old man once told Rebecca about his two mainecoons, Fawn and Kallie. When they get squirrely, the old man shouts to them, "Fawn! Kallie! Get your shit together!"
Whoever can't get their shit together is the fawn now.
OK, so I catch Rebecca fawning things all the time. We can't go anywhere without a brief interrogation, "Do you have your keys, wallet, phone?" She forgets her iPod, so we listen to the radio. She forgets her sunglasses/jacket/whatever, so I give her mine. Sometimes she burns the rice a little bit, but in all her fawning, she has never had a fire scare.
I wear the fawn hat today.
I was taking those herbs to kick the phlegm out of my head. I take this as a sign that I don't need that formula anymore. I'm feling better anyway. Now I can go on a nice tonic formula. Ginseng!