They’re back . . . and noisy as ever. Now I am pretty sure I have no dead squirrels in my house, at least not today. Left the house Saturday around noon and headed to the city for a massage and family brunch.
A few months ago when Pam and Jan were visiting I met them in the city. Rachel had stayed home from work because of a pounding wicked headache. Pam was already tired of walking and her feet hurt. Pam and Rachel ended up going for foot reflexology. Jan, Hannah, and I walked to Penn Station to see if Rachel’s iphone was found.
You’ve heard about Rachel’s lost iphone, yes? The phone call I received at 1:00 in the morning. A slurring Rachel calling from Mooney’s phone, “Mommmeeeee, do you think someone went into my purse and stole my iphone while I was asleep on the LIRR?” My sleepy yet quick response, “No, I think you drank too much and probably let is slip out of your hand.”
The LIRR sent her an email saying they might have it, come identify it. She was home sick with a headache (insert foot reflexology visit with Pam) so the three of us walked to Penn Station, and waited while they charged the iphone in question. Hours later when it finally charged enough to turn on there was no background picture of yankee stadium and it was not Rachel’s phone. We walked back to the apartment, stopping at a sample sale that Hannah had to go to and, eventually, leaving her there. Tired, cold, and empty-handed, we walked back to Rachel’s apartment where we found Rachel and Pam happy, warm, and watching the South Park, Jersey Shore episode. The reflexology was great (Pam raved about Lucy . . . “and she said just take your pants off.“) and Rachel was cured, for the moment.
But that’s not what this day was all about… today was about my Valentine’s Day massage. I went in and Lucy was ready for me. I said I wanted a foot massage and she led me down the hall to a teeny tiny room. I think she said “Okay, take your pants off.” So I did. And then I think she said, “You want 30 or 60 minutes?” So I’m thinking 30 minutes of foot reflexology should be fine. But she starts massaging my foot and then my leg and I blurt out “60 minutes” and point to my neck and shoulders and eventually rip all my clothes off. But what I later found out (from Hannah) was that I should have asked for reflexology not massage. Now I have to go back I need more foot time.
Take a hammer, take a pencil eraser — work those points. If only Drew had the strength. He always offers to rub my feet but after around 30 seconds his hand slips away and his eyes are half closed and his head starts bob, bob, bobbing around. Oops, getting off track here.
Had a delicious brunch with the girls. I had the best lemon ricotta pancakes with fresh berries. Everyone else had eggs. We were all happy. Rachel forgot to wear her big warm scarf and she was cold. I remember this clearly because she mentioned it at least 20 times. Lucky for us her pimple was almost gone, so no there was no pimple talk at the table.
Stopped in some shops in the East Village where everything is cute, useless, overpriced, and make great gifts. And that is where I found squirrel underpants! I just can’t stop thinking of them. I should have bought 2 pairs for my squirrels.
Can't get you out of my mind
Dreamt of my squirrels in underpants and a large crevice opening in the ceiling of my bedroom (big enough for a squirrel to get through.) I was in a total panic. Who do I call and how quickly will they get here to patch up the ceiling. Glad it was only a dream. But just thinking of it today (Sunday) is getting my eyes all itchy.
Maybe I can get Drew to help me fix up this site today. Maybe we will clean out the office so we can set up the scanner. Looks like a good day to lay around and watch a movie. Maybe check the traps for squirrels.
Dinner last night was Masala Wok. Tonight — undecided.