Take a drink from a magic potion; tell me do you still feel fine?
So activity around home: my mother warned that my collection of plastic drink cups had been the subject of debate between her and my father. My reaction: I have a collection of plastic drink cups? And now to unpack this for those who do not live in the slightly feverish consequences of what my parents imagine my life to be: when I go to fast food places and, often, get the large-size value meal there's usually a fairly sturdy plastic soda cup. I often bring these home since it feels wasteful to just throw out and they do come in handy for summer days when you want several tons of ice and soda so as to go days without returning inside for refills. Also some of the larger cups contain exactly the amount of water needed to fill my parents' coffee maker, making a filling method even more convenient and less likely to break than using the carafe. I usually set them on a counter and forget about them forever after.
With my decoding that much I learned that if there were any I felt a sentimental attachment to I should put them aside as the rest were being thrown out. I couldn't imagine what would produce a sentimental attraction to a fast food soda cup. Still, stranger things happen, regularly. I asked my mother where the cups ``for sorting'' were, leaving her confused what I meant by sorting. As in ahead of being thrown out. She directed me to my father, who said they were in the garage. My exasperated response, ``Everything is in the garage!'', was true and yet required more explanation to get my father to explain where in the garage they might be. They're right by where the used batteries to be recycled were.
I have never known where the battery recycle bin is. My father keeps claiming he's shown me, but he never does, producing some frustration when I do have dead batteries to throw out. (This number is dwindling as I replace expendable with rechargeable ones.) He claims he'll show me sometime soon, and never does, and I finally just throw them in the trash because if I leave them anywhere else my father puts them in his bag of Not Dead Batteries. Finally, after angrily claiming that he keeps showing me, he took me to the garage to see the battery recycle bin, which was hidden on a workbench behind my sister's (bagged) wedding dress. I don't know how I could have been confused, what with how ``Battery recycle bin goes behind the sister's wedding dress'' is practically the first mnemonic anyone learns, right after that thirty-days-hath-September one.
In the event the cups were not in the battery recycle bin since who puts fast food soda cups in battery recycle bins? But they were on the workbench nearby and they were, admittedly, a fair pile. I even did identify several which I wanted to save because the fast food place isn't giving them out anymore, but the rest can go. If you should urgently want a slightly faded White Castle Family Guy 44-ounce soda cup, that's your own fault. And if for some reason you want this and have never heard of eBay, contact this address within about six hours to beat the recycling day crush. Also available are some McDonald's cups showing off McDonald's, and some Burger King cups featuring the Burger King logo.
Trivia: The ``Giant Step'' worldwide tour which the Apollo 11 astronauts began on 29 September 1969 started from Houston, and was scheduled to go to Mexico City, Bogotá, Buenos Aires, Rio de Janeiro, Grand Canary Island, Madrid, Paris, Amsterdam, Brussels, Oslo, Cologne, Berlin, London, Rome, Belgrade, Ankara, Kinshasa, Tehran, Bombay, Dacca, Bangkok, Darwin, Sydney, Guam, Seoul, Tokyo, Honolulu, and return to Houston. Source: First Man: The Life Of Neil A Armstrong, James R Hansen.
Currently Reading: Carrying The Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys, Michael Collins.