Does anybody remember the flash website with a growing tree (a la Yoko Ono?) where you could write a message on a leaf? The tree would send the message to your friend(s) so that they could go and read your leaf... an interesting greeting card application twist.
I've lost the url, can't remember the name of the site... if you know, please let me know!
It is of uttermost importance:-)
Take a look at this little cat, Nala. Spot anything unusual in her eye?
She's on a mission. Nala is looking for stuff she could use. Like women's underwear, socks, children's clothes, and in particular, soft teddybears.
Since Nala's owners doesn't award her any pocket money for being a cuddly cat so that she could go buy her own underwear and teddy, she tends to raid her neighborhood for goodies at night, then drag her good finds back home where she silently enjoys her fetishes behind a bush.
I don't blame Nala's owners for thinking this is pure thievery and wanting to bring the stuff back. They are so embarrased over Nala's silent treasure hunts that they even posted a disclaimer in the paper to warn their neighbors...
I picked up Mr. Teen from the Dexter Sailing Camp yesterday. Pick up time was 1:30 pm, I pulled into the driveway.. 1:28 pm. On time, all the way from Cambridge to Cape Cod!
I got out of the car, and spotted Mr. Teen almost immediately in the crowd, where he was dragging his bag on the ground while his super studly, new sunglasses were proudly showcased, hanging around his neck. His face was tanned, his nose was peeling. Unusual, since Mr. Teen the Scientist always uses factor 50 and up.
A camp leader came up to me before I got to him. "Your son was a GREAT camper!" she said with a big smile. "I think you've just got yourself a brand new sailor!"
"I've been so nervous," I admitted. "He didn't know anything about sailing until this summer, and he mostly just... sits in his room and program his computer.." She laughed. "Well, you know.. sailing is a LOT about thinking skills. He picked this up immediately!"
Mr. Teen told me that he had a marvelous week, making new friends, swimming, sailing, playing in the woods. "I was wondering why you didn't call home," I said, interrupting his stories of being pushed off the pier and pushing friends off the pier while I helped him lift the bag into the car trunk. "...hmmm...why does this bag seem much heavier than when I dropped you off? Did you bring home the SEA??" Mr. Teen raised his eyebrows into the familiar question mark position. " I don't know," he said, answering both questions at once. Some things never change, I guess.
This morning, I unpacked his bag to do laundry. It turns out that Mr. Teen DID indeed bring home the sea. Whenever something got wet, he just tossed it into his bag together with all his clean pieces of clothing and blissfully thought nothing more of it. After all, like any other teenager, he does have a personal laundry service assistant, doesn't he?
