create your own visited countries map
create your own visited states map
It sucks that many of the countries I've been to are tiny and barely show up on the map! But it's a cool toy nonetheless.
Sunday, July 23
Oh the places you'll go!
create your own visited countries map
create your own visited states map
It sucks that many of the countries I've been to are tiny and barely show up on the map! But it's a cool toy nonetheless.
Monday, July 17
Barsufius!
My dear sister Marisa gave me some supercool gifts for my 32nd birthday, including a brand new wrapsack! What is a wrapsack, you ask? Well, check it out for yourself: www.wrapsacks.com. It's a reusable fabric gift bag that is meant to be re-gifted. Each one has a unique code, which you can use to track the progress of the wrapsack. The first person to register the bag gets to name it and give it a goal. I named mine Barsufius, and its goal is to travel around the world. If you register with the site, you can track Barsufius's progress using the code c07039! Thanks Marisa!
Tuesday, May 2
Saturday, April 29
Rooked
So I just got rooked by a 10-year-old pizza delivery guy. I call my regular pizza joint, order my regular pizza. 25 minutes later, the doorbell rings, and I open the door to find a 10-year-old kid holding my pizza box at a rather precarious angle.
"Did you order a pizza?", he asks me very politely.
"Yes I did," I say.
"I'm sorry it's late," he tells me.
"That's OK," I respond. "Do you have change?"
"Change?" he asks, beginning to look somewhat bewildered.
Uh oh. All I have is a $20 and 5 singles. The pie costs $11 and I usually tip $2.
"They sent you out to deliver pizzas with no change?" I ask him, incredulous.
He takes a step back, and shakes his head. Regards me warily for a few seconds as I try to decide what to do. I don't want this kid to get in trouble, but neither do I want to pay $20 for a pizza. Plus I'm hungry and I want some slices.
"Wait, I have my own money," he pipes up. He opens his velcro'd wallet and takes out 3 dollar bills.
I tell him, "OK, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna take the pizza, and your 3 dollars, and you're going to take this delivery receipt and my 20 dollars. You get back to the pizza place, you tell them they owe you $5, OK?"
He nods vaguely.
"You got it?" I ask him. He half nods, half shakes his head.
I try again. "See, you just gave me 3 dollars of your own money, so you should get that back from them. Plus you get 2 dollars for bringing me my pizza. So that makes 5 right?"
"Right," he says, warming up to the idea.
"Next time they send you out delivering pizzas, you tell 'em they have to give you some change to bring with you," I advise.
"OK," he nods. He eyes the steps, wondering if he is free to leave.
"Have a good night," I tell him.
"OK, bye," he says, turns, and scampers off down the stairs.
Pizza was pretty good. Not $17 good, but what can you do?
"Did you order a pizza?", he asks me very politely.
"Yes I did," I say.
"I'm sorry it's late," he tells me.
"That's OK," I respond. "Do you have change?"
"Change?" he asks, beginning to look somewhat bewildered.
Uh oh. All I have is a $20 and 5 singles. The pie costs $11 and I usually tip $2.
"They sent you out to deliver pizzas with no change?" I ask him, incredulous.
He takes a step back, and shakes his head. Regards me warily for a few seconds as I try to decide what to do. I don't want this kid to get in trouble, but neither do I want to pay $20 for a pizza. Plus I'm hungry and I want some slices.
"Wait, I have my own money," he pipes up. He opens his velcro'd wallet and takes out 3 dollar bills.
I tell him, "OK, here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna take the pizza, and your 3 dollars, and you're going to take this delivery receipt and my 20 dollars. You get back to the pizza place, you tell them they owe you $5, OK?"
He nods vaguely.
"You got it?" I ask him. He half nods, half shakes his head.
I try again. "See, you just gave me 3 dollars of your own money, so you should get that back from them. Plus you get 2 dollars for bringing me my pizza. So that makes 5 right?"
"Right," he says, warming up to the idea.
"Next time they send you out delivering pizzas, you tell 'em they have to give you some change to bring with you," I advise.
"OK," he nods. He eyes the steps, wondering if he is free to leave.
"Have a good night," I tell him.
"OK, bye," he says, turns, and scampers off down the stairs.
Pizza was pretty good. Not $17 good, but what can you do?
Sunday, April 9
Shoe fetish
I blame my shoe fetish on the MTA. Well, the city of New York, really, but the MTA in particular. I ride the subway to work every day, and
since making eye contact is a cultural taboo, I spend lots of time looking at people's footwear. *sigh* So many cute shoes, so little money to spend on them.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)