My dad filed my taxes for me this year, as he has every year. At age 35, I think I’ve only filled in an IRS form once or twice.
I mean, I do the Déclaration des revenus for me and my husband, which involves actual amounts of money, since we live and work and earn our money here. But doing American taxes is one of those life skills I have so far wriggled out of having to learn.
Top misspellings of the word ‘undermine’:
My trip to work this morning started with a fine coat of limestone chalk* making sure my shoes could get no traction on the tile floor of by building’s hallway.
Then I stepped outside into 60mph winds.
And when I arrived at work, the zamboni-style floor cleaner was cleaning the marble floor of my school’s entryway, reminding me that, hey, even if it’s 7:55 and you have class at 8:00, you should still slow down, take it easy, as you tiptoe gingerly along.
*I think that’s it. The ripped bag the construction workers had left said ‘chaux’.
My laptop’s webcam is crap, but that’s not really a big problem. Other than Skype meetings, the only use I get out of it is checking to see how much Nutella I have on my face.
millions of people live in places where scorpions are just one of the pests you have to worry about and thats terrible. I’m so scared for those people. You’re living in hell
Shortly after my parents got married, they left Tennessee, where my mom grew up, and moved to Texas, my dad’s home state. They hadn’t been there long when my mom, alone in the house, found a scorpion. She panicked and called my dad. He calmed her down, told her to set the phone down, get a broom, smash the scorpion, and come back. “Ok, I killed it,” she said. Dad: “Well, now you have to run, because that was a baby and the mama scorpion is coming for you and she’s going to be MAD.” I think Mom is still a little pissed off about that.
I should also add that by the time I was born Austin’s scorpion problem seems to have been solved, since I have never once seen one in the wild.