el tercer ojo

Normal For Norwich?

And now for some news from our friends across the sea.  In the Daily Telegraph today, an article about a 19 year old girl who found a bat in her bra. 

"In her bra" as in "in the bra" she was currently wearing.   At work. 

Abbie Hawkins, a hotel receptionist, thought her mobile phone was ringing when she felt vibrations coming from her clothes.

But she later discovered the tiny creature tucked away in the padded pocket of her underwear.

As staff and colleagues crowded around, Miss Hawkins, 19, produced the frightened bat, which was the size of her hand.

Yeah. 

I once had a cockroach on my foot at work, but this definitely trumps it.  Young Abbey seems very kind hearted as well, commenting that

"Once I realised it was a bat I was shocked, but then I felt quite sorry for it really.
It looked very snug in there and I thought how mean I was for disturbing it."

I'm not sure what I'd do if I found a flying rodent in my bra, but I suspect I wouldn't spend time feeling guilty about removing it.  If my reaction to the roach is any indication, I'd be too busy screaming.

Childishly heartbroken

The question "what's really bothering you?" springs to mind.

Last night I had dinner with my closest graduate school (though she's Dr. Friend now having already completed her PhD) and her small son. She and her family are headed to Chicago for her first professional position. I'm thrilled for her -- it's a great job.


Anyway, last night they came over to our apartment after we'd eaten. I was doing my best to amuse her small son (our apartment isn't the most kid-friendly place) by pulling out whatever (vanilla) toys I could find. When they left, I gave him all sorts of cheap plastic toys I'd collected via McD's Happy Meals. He was beyond excited by them and I was pleased to see them go.

And then he asked if he could have Theo. Theo is my plastic bite-y T-Rex dinosaur. He's from the Natural History Museum in London and I tend to use him (at least in my imagination) to attack those who thwart me. I've had him for 5 years. On the other hand, the child asking is four years old, has a father who's been unexpectedly away for two weeks due to a family emergency and had just this past week had to see all his things including toys, packed up and shipped away in a truck to some place he's never been. So of course I said he could have it. I was glad to give it.

Except I woke up this morning feeling deeply sad about the loss of Theo.

Huh?

My only hope is that I'm really mourning the loss of my dear friend who's moving away. I think that's the case. I couldn't really care this much about a plastic dinosaur head on a stick.

Could I?