Fritz and Mr. Mayor

If you putting your egg baby up for adoption would make you look responsible, what would eating it do?

Isn't it weird how cats eat their stillborn kittens?  Cats are weird.

Speaking of cats, about a week ago, I was walking home around 11pm, and saw a cat out on the sidewalk.  He was just kind of sitting there, and when I started to pass him, he just flopped over, as though asking me to pet his belly.  I was weirded out - shouldn't he be inside?  I checked to see if he had a tag, and it said "Fritz," and a phone number.  I decided to call, since, in my opinion, if someone's cat was just allowed to roam free in the city streets, they wouldn't put their phone numbers on its tag.  Voice Mail picked up, and I left a message to the effect of, "Hi, my name is Tristan.  I'm walking in front of [whatever the street address was there] and I just came across Fritz.  I didn't know if he was lost, so I figured I'd give you a call.  Um...  I can't have a cat, so, he'll still be here, hopefully... Um... Okay... I hope you find him.  Bye."  When I got home, I was so worried about Fritz, but didn't really know what to do.  I never heard back from the owner, so I figured he must be allowed outside.  Then, a couple days later, I came across him hanging out in the same place.  So, I guess his owner is a douche.

I finally met my Mayoral neighbor this weekend.  Chris and I were parking the car, coming home from Trader Joe's, and there were two guys standing in the middle of our street.  One of them was this huge muscly dude, and I thought, "I wonder if that is Rahm Emanuel's bodyguard."  Then I looked at the other dude, who was Rahm Emanuel.  I concluded that the first guy was indeed his bodyguard.  We passed him on the sidewalk, and he looked at us.  I chirped, "Hi, Mr. Mayor!" which immediately made me feel like a dork, and he gruffly asked Chris and I how we were, and we responded, and that was about it.  Then I ran upstairs and googled "how to address a mayor."  Mr. Mayor is correct, even though it makes you sound like a Newsie. 

Conclusion; my quiet little street is teeming with interesting happenings.  Maybe I should write a sitcom called "Fritz and Mr. Mayor."

My favorite fooling-a-grown-up moment was on the school bus, when the driver was doing a three-point turn.  He asked us kids if he had enough room to back up: 
He did not. 
We said yes. 
He hit a mailbox.
It was awesome.

Geez, Ford.  Way too soon on the Indiana killing people tweet.  Like, wayyy too soon.  Meaning, before it happened.

Today in physical therapy, I got to do an exercise I thought I'd never get to do, because, a) I'd been there like 5 times and never done it, and b) I thought maybe it was for people strengthening their arms, not hips and back.  It's where you throw a big medicine ball at an almost-sideways trampoline and catch it.  I don't know why it's so fun, but it totally is.  One of my focuses (foci?) is balance, so I had to sit on a stability ball with one foot lifted up and throw and catch the ball.  Games!