November 27, 2008 by kim.

Have you ever had your pupils dilated? I did earlier this week when I went for an eye exam. I had an idea that some drops would be put into my eyes and that I might have blurry vision for a while, but I had no idea that the drops would feel like acid.

The doctor had me take out my contacts and lean back in the chair. She then proceeded to hold the drops over my eye. I think she may have said something about my having to blink a lot when she put them in, but I don’t remember a warning about liquid fire. Maybe the element of surprise is what she was going for. It worked – I was surprised.

She put a drop in my right eye and as the burn began I exclaimed, “HOLY GOD!” She snickered. Then she got the drop in my left eye before I had a chance to slide out of the chair. I sat there, stunned. I blinked and blinked, trying to wash the sting away. Finally, the sensation subsided. Then she proceeded with the exam.

When I got home, I looked in the mirror. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my pupils that dilated before. I knew I had to take a picture. Chris wasn’t home, so I decided to do it myself. I went to the mirror and took this shot:

Doesn’t that look freaky?

When he came home, he took this shot:

He thought I looked like some deranged character out of a Stephen King novel. I can see that…

A couple days later, I took these shots to show what my eyes look like normally:

See - not so crazy after all!

Or am I…?

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November 24, 2008 by kim.

I caught this pigeon posse up to no good on the wrong side of the tracks:

Like those idioms?

People were avoiding the area, talking about crossing the street to prevent an unprovoked attack. I had to take these pictures quickly because they were starting to gang up on me. I literally had my back to the wall, snapping photos and scrambling to escape.

A Hitchcock moment, if there ever was one!

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November 18, 2008 by kim.

Once in a blue moon, Chris will get struck down with a case of LoDuca fever. This affliction affects his better judgment and makes him do things out of his normal character. I’ve only really seen it twice. The first time was in New York on a sweltering summer day when we were desperate for an air conditioner and he went next door to the hardware store to purchase one — the last one left in the store. That wasn’t the problem. The problem came when he noticed that the $200 overpriced air conditioner casing was broken with pieces strewn all over the box it came in. Instead of returning it, he was actually going to patch it up using duct tape. I just looked at him and said “I’m surprised at you!” which snapped him back to his senses. He returned the defective machine.

Last week was the second time.

I called Chris on my way home from the train to tell him that I was going to stop for a haircut. He was relieved to hear that because, he told me, the living room was a disaster. Concerned and thinking we had had a break-in, I asked if everything was okay. He said, “Yes — I’m working on something and hoped to have it completed before you came home.” Hmmm. I wondered what it could be. It was the 14th and my birthday was the 16th — could it be something for that?

Mmmm — not really.

When I got home, Chris didn’t greet me at the door like he usually does — he was off to the side, almost hidden. He came around with a sheepish look on his face and said, “I bought something.” Walking further into the living room, I saw it — a flat screen HD TV! Wow!

See, we share the finances and usually we make big purchases together, but this happened to be a really good deal so Chris picked it up while out shopping for my birthday. It wasn’t a birthday present but more of an early Christmas present to both of us. He wasn’t sure how I would react (honestly — you never can tell which way I’ll go), so I think he was bracing himself for a big blowout. To his surprise, I reacted calmly and was even glad that we got the TV. Once he was sure that I wasn’t going to throw him out on the street, he gave me the bad news.

He broke one of our wedding gifts — a statue given to us by my brother and his girlfriend (at the time).

Oh no!

Still, I was surprisingly calm. Perhaps because he was beside himself — he felt really, really terrible about it. He then proceeded to tell me how it happened:

He was at Best Buy and saw this TV that was at a price he couldn’t pass up. Plus, our TV was on the brink of death, so he had a good reason to get it. Once he got it home he realized that it wouldn’t fit into our bookcase — the shelf above was a little too low. We bought it from IKEA and put it together ourselves. The shelves are all movable — except for that one. That shelf was put in place with wooden pegs and long screws. Instead of taking it apart piece by piece to remove the shelf, he decided to saw the pegs/screws in half. That’s what happens when the LoDuca fever sets in. Reason goes right out the window.

He took the items off of the top of the bookcase in preparation for this bit of deconstruction. All items save for one. I had interrupted the item removal by calling at that precise moment to tell him that I was going for a haircut. He then got off the phone with me and began to saw without realizing that he had left the statue on the top of the shelf. Can you see where this is going? Chris was sawing back and forth, things were going fine, and when the saw broke through, it jarred the bookcase. The next thing he heard was wobble, wobble, wobble…CRASH! Down went the statue, breaking into a dozen pieces. Chris was stunned and heartbroken. He cleaned up the poor statue and finished up with the shelf and got the TV situated. Then I came home, and you know the rest.

Now, for some photos:

Old TV

New TV (much nicer!)

Saw marks on the bookcase (he touched them up with matching paint later)

Statue before the accident

Statue after the accident

I guess that’s the way the cookie crumbles. I’m happy to report that his fever broke and hopefully he won’t get sick again for a long while!

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November 14, 2008 by kim.

Sitting on the train the other night reading my book and minding my own business, my attention was drawn to a disturbing conversation forming in my immediate vicinity.

I had been absorbed in my Stephen King novel when the person next to me vacated the seat. A beautiful young lady wearing a colorful beret and a pink short-sleeved shirt occupied the space. I noticed her because it had to have been about 45 degrees outside and drizzling. Where was her coat? I resumed reading. Then, the conversation began.

A guy sitting in the seat in front of her turned slowly around to look her up and down. In a low, smooth (to me predatory) voice he asked her how tall she was. I immediately began to pay attention. This could get weird. People don’t generally talk to strangers on the train and as a woman, one needs to be cautious. I had a bad feeling about this guy. If he tried to start talking to me, I would have ignored him and moved to a different train car at the next stop. It wasn’t me, though. There was nothing to do but see how this played out.

She told him she was 5’8”. He asked her how old she was. She told him she was 18. My skin started to crawl. The conversation continued:

He: “Where do you live?”
She: “I go to DePaul [college].”
He: “Where are you from?”
She: “The suburbs.”
He: “Which suburb?”

At this point I turned to look at her, hoping to catch her eye and visually communicate to her that she didn’t need to give this wacko her life history. No dice.

She: “Orland Park”
He: “What’s your name?”

This is where I should have pushed her out of the seat.

She: “Brittany”
He: “Do you have a boyfriend?”
She: “Yes.”
He: “Is he due to have a heart attack anytime soon?”

What?

She: Timid laughter, and then “No.”
He: “How about a drive-by?”

Why – was he planning to orchestrate one?

She: “No.”
He: “You’re going to grow into a beautiful woman. Hurry up and grow up, will you? You’re about 11 years younger than me. I’m 29, going to be 30. The big 3-0.”

Oh boy.

She: “That’s not so bad.”
He: “Can I tell you a joke? I tell it to all my friends.”
She: “Okay”
He: “I’m a serial killer.”

On edge already, this is where my stomach dropped. Was he for real? The smarmy way he was talking to her, I wouldn’t have put it past him.

She: “How is that a joke?”

Long pause…

He: “I killed a whole box of Cheerios this morning.”

Ha ha ha ha ha. “Cereal” killer. Ha ha. CREEP!

She laughed nervously and then it was my stop. She had to get out of the seat so that I could get past her, and here I thought she might take the opportunity to escape. Did she? Nooo. Of course not. Instead, she sat down across the aisle and a little behind him so the conversation could continue. Perhaps she was enjoying the attention. Who knows? College kids are so fearless and trusting.

She’ll learn.

I hope.

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November 13, 2008 by kim.

Just a pretty picture I took while walking through one of our old neighborhoods:

Does that say “Fall” or what? Gorgeous!

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November 8, 2008 by kim.

I think the pictures speak for themselves:

Juvenile, aren’t I?

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November 5, 2008 by kim.

Need I say more?

Posted in Celebrate | 1 Comment »

November 2, 2008 by kim.

Of course, now that Halloween is over and I started taking down the decorations, I finally got around to taking a few pictures of them:

The following ghosts I made way back when we moved to NYC in 2001 and had no money for decorations:

Boo!

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