Heat Check

I think there's something wrong with our heat. More specifically, Dynamo thinks there is, and he'd know before I would. He occupies the parlor level (fancy way of saying his ass is in the basement) of our lovely duplex and relies on the warmth provided by Keyspan energy and some science I won't even pretend to understand a lot more than I do. See, there's this rebellious theory going round that heat rises, and since I occupy the deluxe/main floor, I'm not yet feeling the chill. I'm not saying my temperature's tempura, but I'm mostly comfy. When the cold does set in, I warm up the room in the most energy efficient and environmentally friendly way possible; I turn on the lights in my room, throw on my jacket and leave the apartment. It's kind of like a heating lamp for lizards, and probably what they would do, if they had opposable thumbs, and could reach my light switch.

In the meantime, despite Dynamo's constant obsession with building things out of bamboo, there have been no panda visits. Bamboo flooring, bamboo glued together to make shelves, bamboo under the bed storage, bamboo roboot(s). Not a single panda. Not even a knock on the door, or an inquiry into the availability of pandaing in our apartment. Well, there's only so much luring we can do. I think we should take advantage of the temperature disparity in the house, and instead focus on renting the icebox lower level to more amiable folks who will appreciate the lengths we went to to make them feel accommodated. That's right, it's time to get polar bears!