I had my Chinese New Year celebration with my little reading group this morning and it was a lot of fun.. I had gotten them laisee bags and put a chocolate coin in each, had brought in noisemakers and special milk candy. We decided that the candy wasn’t bad but tasted strange.

The highlight was eating popcorn with chopsticks. They had a great time trying to master those chopsticks. I had bought them very fancy plastic ones and they were so excited that they could keep them. The funniest comment came from one of the boys, T. The kids were talking about eating rice with chopsticks and how hard that must be when T suddenly stopped eating and said "How do they eat soup?" I howled. That shows how the minds of these little puppies work. In a sense quite logically, and with a touch of practicality infused in it.

We had spent quite a bit of time this week learning about Chinese traditions, and the kids took them to heart. They had all remembered to wear red and gold (for good luck) and one of the girls had brought oranges for everyone, also symbolizing wealth and luck.

The other little girl had made red envelopes for each of us and had put fifteen cents, jellybeans and a green tea bag in each of the envelopes.

They had a great time and must have thanked me ten times each. I’m glad they had a good time and learned something in the process. As we were cleaning up I was telling them to throw out their bowls, but that they could keep anything else they wanted when one of the girls looked at me and said, But I can’t throw anything away. The candy wrappers and the bowl are for memories."

Sometimes it’s all worth it just to hear words like that.

I’m still so exhausted that I can hardly express it. I can’t decide if it’s physical or emotional. It’s probably both.

The cat was ok for the last 24 hours. This is a good thing. But now he’s refusing to eat the food that has the medicine crushed up in it.

It’s a standoff because I refuse to feed him anything that has the potential to make him sick.

I feel bad for him.

I can’t remember if I already wrote about this or not…

The people whose mailbox I killed are threatening to sue me. That's a pain. Apparently the wife is irritated that the husband told me that their homeowners would take care of it and that she inadvertently tossed out my name and phone number. She tracked me down through the police.

I think she needs a pill. I returned their call as soon as I got their message, but you would have thought that I was a fugitive from justice. It was sort of strange. I guess my insurance will cover it, but I would like to make it really difficult just because I'm in that kind of mood.

Ugly huh?

I am not alone in my lusting for Krispy Kreme donuts. I was watching Rosie and Madonna was waxing poetical over them. I guess she goes to get them right after her yoga lessons. That’s my kind of person. Exercise your tail off then go out for junk food.

Still no KK in the Boston area. The multi-pierced young man (whose hair was reminiscent of the crown worn by the statue of liberty) who waited on me at Starbucks the other day told me that he hadn't even heard of KK.

This is probably a good thing.

Speaking of donuts, I read this in a magazine recently:

"If you meet a space alien, UFO enthusiasts urge you to show your goodwill with the Universal Sign of the Doughnut. Extend your right thumb, index and middle fingers, fold back the other two digits, hold the arm palm down in front of you and draw a 10--inch counterclockwise circle in the air."

This could be valuable information. You never know when I might need to greet an alien!