Adventures of a Dancing Kumquat

Following the saga of the little citrus with terpsichorean tendencies

Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Semi-Political Kumquat

*Disclaimer: This post is probably the closest the kumquat will ever get to discussing current events. However, she urges her readers not to worry too much. They will not be subject to any pesky moral or political argumets or anything else of such an unseemly nature. The kumquat is, after all, a proper lady. The kumquat begs her readers to please stop that uproarious laughter. She has no idea what's so funny...

The kumquat listens to NPR. She blames this on the lime. And also, of course, on daylight savings time (see previous post.)

This evening, the voices on NPR (Or were they in her head? She's never sure about these things...) were discusing a claim by Amnesty International about some secret U.S. prisons that they believe exsist outside of the United States.

The location of these alleged prisons leads the kumquat to one obvious conclusion.

Amnesty International is run by a clutch of high schoolers. High schoolers who are probably in Model United Nations (MUN).

Because, these prisons are supposed to be in Djibouti.

And nothing is funnier to high school MUN geeks than "Djibouti." (It's even more entertaining if your group also has Greece as a country... Not like the kumquat speaks from experience or anything. Nope, definitely not.)

So, the kumquat pictures members of Amnesty International sitting around, discussing great moral and political and human rights problems. (These things are all very admirable and the kumquat is sure that Amnesty International's members are lovely people and she would enjoy taking afternoon tea with them.)

Suddenly, someone brings up the question of U.S. secret prisons.

One of them asks: "Where do you think the U.S. is hiding all of these prisoners?"

Answer: "In Djibouti!"*

The kumquat rests her case.

*For those of you without a high schooler's sense of humor: "Djibouti"="Ja bootie"="Your booty." (Of course, if her readers didn't get that, the kumquat suggests that they should blame daylight savings time.)

Tuesday, April 04, 2006

Spring Forward, Fall Kumquat

The kumquat has been a little spacier than usual for the past couple of days. She has decided that this is because of the time change. Obviously, it is confusing her.

It's really an all encompassing thing, so if she can't speak properly, naturally, it's the time change. You see, it disturbs her equilibrium.

She figures she can blame the time change for a good week or so-- maybe even two.

Now she just has to figure out what to blame once this excuse, ahem, valid reason is no longer plausible...

Monday, April 03, 2006

Clan of the Kumquat

The kumquat just returned from a foraging jaunt to "Partial Produce." While she was there, she noticed little containers of her brethren attractively stacked next to the strawberries and kiwi berries. (The kumquat had never seen these things before, but they're so cute! They look just like bitty bald kiwis-- which, uh, the kumquat supposes they are, so, umm, nevermind.)

The kumquat is always tempted by her botanical brethren. The ones from stores never seem to reach the lovely sweet/sour pinnacles acheived by their less domesticated cousins. But every year, the kumquat has to take a container home. She thinks maybe she's an optimist. Or delusional. Such a fine line, really...

Today was the day that was apparently chosen by the kumquat gods as the day for this annual ritual. Maybe the kumquat succumbed because they looked like they needed a home. Maybe it was because they looked so pretty, those little glowy orange ovoids. But it was probably just because they were on sale.

When the kumquat got them home, she noticed they had a lable on their little plastic transport container proclaiming them to be "Fancy Kumquats." The kumquat is not sure what she would require of her kind in order to call them fancy, but these kumquats did not seem to posess any stellar qualities. Just the normal amounts of cuteness, orangeness, and ovoidness.

"Fancy" denotes to the kumquat something unusual and noticable. Now, if the kumquats had been painted with designs or embellished with rhinestones or dressed in little kumquat-sized evening-wear complete with top hats and canes for some and pearls and stoles for the others, then the kumquat would have no trouble agreeing with their classification as "fancy." She even would have bought them at full price.

Because, really, who wouldn't buy a kumquat in a top hat?

Soggy Kumquat

So, what happens when the kumquat gets wet?

(No. Not that. Perverts.)

It's #%$*ing SPRING, dammit.