When a Puddle Is More Than Just a Puddle. Or Is It?

I often wonder about strange things, usually in a quick succession of questions. As the flow chart unravels itself in my mind, I consider how it is that I think about such weird things. And I wonder if anyone else wonders about these things. I generally conclude that's it's highly unlikely anyone else could possibly have such bizarre thought processes, at least not in the same minute detail that I do. I tried to explain this concern to a friend, who asked for an example. Here's what I told her:

There's this very large puddle on a city corner across the street from The San Francisco Chronicle (where I worked as a writer/editor/project manager when I wrote this).

I pass this puddle rather frequently. Not daily, but frequently. And every time I pass by, there it is. The puddle is there during the rainy season, as expected, but the puddle is also there during the summer, when there is much less rain. I should clarify here that I live in San Francisco and so there is really not all that much rain. This, I guess, is part of the reason that the puddle interests me. It seems to survive despite no clear source. First let me tell you that this is not the sort of puddle you would want to splash around in. On the contrary, this is the sort of stagnant water that you might consider crossing the street just so that you don't have to risk the smell of it infecting your nasal passages. Or G-d forbid, that you should fall into it for any reason.

Anyway, I get to thinking about this puddle and I wonder...

How did the puddle get there? What makes the puddle so large? Why is it so smelly? And such an odd color? What went into? What feeds it? I want to know the source of it, what is the root cause. It is too dirty looking to be just rain and some general street dirt. Plus, there really isn't enough rain. I don't see any obvious drainage from pipes. And wouldn't that be illegal anyway. Has anyone ever inquired about this puddle to some public health official? Does anyone ever walk through it? Or does everyone, myself included, always walk around it? I wonder what it smells like? Worse, what would it taste like? And would it make you sick if you tasted it? What if you were dying of dehydration? Then, would it behoove you to drink from this strange street puddle?

And the random string of thoughts continue. Why? What? Who? Like rapid fire, the morsels of fragmented thought zing through my brain like they're late to get somewhere important.

Happiness is...

Happiness is... a stray flower found in the elevator.

Hello world

I’m the Nosy Parker and here’s a little glimpse of me.

I’m in my late twenties, I’m Jewish and I grew up in Santa Cruz, Calif., a beautiful and funky beach town in the South Bay where my family still lives. I was an editor/writer and project manager at The San Francisco Chronicle for a couple of years; I’ve worked in TV and Radio; and now I freelance. I have an adorably sweet little dog named Abby and we live near Lake Merritt. And I’m a proud USC alumna with the license plate holder to prove it.

Ok, that’s the basics. Here’s the real me:

I love forensics crime shows with good characters with a strong sense of integrity (caveat: I don’t like to watch them alone at night); but I hate horror films or anything too graphic.

I hate brussel sprouts, asparagus, cilantro and any tasteless fruit or veggie (I grew up going to farmers’ markets). I can’t seem to get enough pears, tomatoes (juicy and ripe), seedless green grapes (juicy, sweet and cold), summer fruits and my “Crow’s Nest” salad. I also love anything chocolate and/or mint.

I love to travel, but I hate to be away (thank you Jakob Martin for this beautiful line from your song).

I love to cook and bake for the people I love; but sometimes I just want to order take-out.

I love my little dog Abby with all my heart; but I try to be firm in my doggie parenting.

I love a good morning yoga class or walk at the beach; and I especially love a fabulous brunch; but I truly believe that weekends are best spent sleeping in or with a good book and a mug of chai.

I love my special stilettos better than any other heels – they simply make me feel good and the Nike Air technology makes them wearable. I also deeply love and feel great in my flip-flops and a pair of jeans.

I love my iPhone; and sometimes I worry that I’m addicted to technology – particularly Google and Facebook (they’re my weaknesses).

I do my own manicures and pedicures. People think it’s ‘cause I’m thrifty. In reality, I prefer my own work and I’m thrifty.

Musings of a Curious Mind

Welcome to my blog, Nosy Parker – Musings of a Curious Mind.

The name is a tribute to my great-aunt Plu who lived with us for part of my childhood. Plu was very, very British. The smell of wheat toast and English breakfast tea with milk still remind me of her. I was an extremely curious child, prompting Plu to call me Nosy Parker.
I don’t want to limit the Nosy Parker by specifying a topic. So, here goes… the Nosy Parker is about me and my observations on life and writing. The Nosy Parker will evolve as I do.

Welcome.