Not Really Paranoid

I may not be the center of the universe, but there sure seem to be a lot of people that pay attention to me. And it's not just because I'm a somewhat tall American guy living in Shanghai. Or at least I don't think so, 'cause it seemed like lots of people payed similar attention to me in California.

That, and it's harder to notice I'm a tall American guy while we're driving along in a taxi. But apparently someone does. I thought they'd stopped looking out for me when we'd left America, but sadly, I was wrong.

In America, ambulances, police cars, cars with horns, bicycles with those bells, anything that's got at least two distinct tones seems to know exactly where I am. As I approach them, they play at one tone, the higher, and after I pass, they swap to the lower one. It can't be explained by physics and wavelengths, it can't be that my ears are simply having problems.

No, obviously people simply know where I am.

Of course, I suspect that the guy a few cars in front of me thinks he's being watched. For if the sound changes when I'm passed by, he's got to think it's because they notice him and just have delayed reactions.

It's not paranoia when the sound changes every time, right?

The Tortise or the Turtle

I think I want a pet turtle. I would want to be a turtle, but I think I'd like to have more room to keep my stuff. They really don't have that much room, without having the whole four-walls-and-a-roof thing going on. They don't even have pockets--if they want to store food for the winter, I fear they have to pretend to be chipmunks and store food in their cheeks.

Not that they have particularly food-worthy cheeks. So I guess that they just have to keep hunting all winter long. Or become pets.

And since I feel sorry for them having to work so hard with so little reward, I'm wanting to do my part. I want a pet turtle. I couldn't very well hug him and squeeze him, but I could call him George. And I could give him food. Lots and lots of food, so he could retire in comfort instead of being stuck on the street (but not homeless) begging for scraps.

I'd like to have a pet turtle, but I don't know that I really have room, or that I'm even allowed in my place. But if I got a pet turtle, at least I could have something to stop that door from blowing open whenever there's the least bit of wind. Or he could take the place of the kitten and be a good paper weight.