schnick schnack

my dad has been complaining for almost a year that I'm never home when he tries to call me. I tell him calmly and repeatedly to call my cell phone, because he's correct: I am rarely home and have disconnected my answering machine because it's broken and I refuse to pay for voice mail when I have a cell phone. he stubbornly insists on calling my home phone, apparently for days and days (I wouldn't know; I'm not there to answer) until he breaks down and calls my cell, usually leaving a mildly annoyed message that he can't find me and was wondering if I'm still alive. He's typically an extraordinarily logical person, to a fault, but this is one technological paradigm shift that he can't seem to accept. I often wonder what will happen when I drop the land line completely. Will he just assume I moved or died and he wasn't informed? I see so clearly why he and my mother never really understood each other. And I fear for his personality traits that I embody, even if unconsciously so.

I got a birthday package in the mail yesterday. The mail carrier found it prudent to leave the box on my doorstep, slowly soaking in the steady rain. Despite that, I could still see the address in crisp, all caps handwriting, which instantly told me it was from my dad. I opened the box and nestled in the rain-protecting polystyrene peanuts was a brand new telephone with answering machine. No card, no explanation. None really needed.

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it snowed this morning. not little teeny flurries, but large flakes swirling in the wind. I had the sudden urge to go christmas shopping...

I had four five people call or leave me messages that involved singing this morning. that's usually a good way to start your birthday; makes up for the snow, and then some.