So there I was...

...Happily reading the "This is what my family did this year" letter from my younger step-son, Jayson. Life is good, Rodney got into two racing magazines, he had a great year racing. Sandy computerized their whole small business. Jayson's doing well in school and has learned lots of nifty tricks on how to eat without wheat flour (poor guy, but he's very clever so I know he's got a lot of good ideas).

Then he hits me with the heart failure paragraph: "D.J. has recently landed a job in the school system, working with computers. He is very happy. They have a new addition to their family! A brand new Baby!"

GASP! (That's me inhaling an ice cube.) PEE! (That's me peeing myself.) HISS!!!! (That's me scaring the crap out of the cats.)

I remember very clearly a conversation at DJ and Sarah's wedding (my older step-son and his lovely wife). In that conversation I said, "Take your time and enjoy each other for a while before you make me a grandmother. And while we're at it, I might as well tell you that I refuse to be called grandmother. I like Nana or stick to Mom like you boys call me. But NOT grandmother!" And I was assured at that time that grandkids were definitely not in my near future. And I was greatly relieved.

Not so at Christmas--no relief; simply sheer, horrifying, stark terror! I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH TO BE A GRANDMOTHER! 39 be damned, in my heart I am still 21! (Hey, I have to be old enough to drink, now!) And my boys are still 4 and 6 down in there, so they CAN'T be daddy's! No, no, no, no, no...

Finally, after all this trauma, I've decided I should at least read on to find out the name and sex of my grandchild. I find that the newest Mickle is...a dog. And his name is Tasselhoff. I don't know if the Burrfoot is part of his name or not. I nearly peed myself again out of sheer relief.

I love my boys very much. But they just take too much pleasure in bringing me to the verge of heart failure.

Christmas Season Among Us Heathens

So what does a pagan do at Christmas time? We celebrate just the same as everyone else, depending on our brand of paganism. Just like any religion, there are many different versions and levels of intensity.

Being a relaxed kind of person (except when I’m in stress mode), I take a relaxed sort of view on my religion and what rules may be involved. The biggest rule, which I have found among pretty much every religion I’ve looked at with any depth, is the Golden Rule. In case you live in a cave and don’t know this rule, it’s “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Don’t even say I took it from the Bible. It got started somewhere and like many Christian things, was most likely robbed from some pagan teaching somewhere.

As for Christmas at Christmas time, this is another prime example of a pagan event stolen by the Christian church and morphed into a celebration of Jesus of Nazareth. It’s really the Winter Solstice. Yep, a pagan observation. I could go on, but that’s not why I’m writing tonight. Anyway, it’s OK for me to celebrate at this time of year, because the timing coincides with the Yule Tide celebration and Winter Solstice. You may have noticed several other religions observing important celebrations at this same time. Hmmmm…

I’ve already mentioned my cute little Mylar tree. (I found a wreath that suited me, by the way. It’s not iridescent Mylar, but it’s not red and green, ether, and it’s very natural looking.) Under my tree are two packages. One is from my best friend, the other from my other best friend, my sister. Ann’s package is still in its FedEx packaging. I was instructed to not touch it until Christmas, except to put it under the tree, and that’s what I’m doing. The cats may have other ideas… Here, kitty, kitty, kitty…there’s a string hanging off this package…

My best friend also sent me some stocking treats, so I went back to the room of death and found the Christmas box again and dug out my stocking, filled it and set it out. I’ve purchased some canned food and catnip mice for the fur bellies. I can’t set their stockings up until Christmas Eve, though. They’ll tear the stockings up trying to find the catnip. I thought about buying them one of those kitty condo things, because I know they’d enjoy it. Money won out and I bought noodles or something. I forget now. Oh, maybe it was the beer. I promised a friend I’d have decent beer when he came home from Iraq. I still have to earn forgiveness for having cheap beer for the people who helped me move. He’ll forgive me eventually. Hey, he’s a hasher; he’s supposed to be used to cheap beer!

On Christmas, I’ll probably go hang out at Deb’s in the late morning after I’ve given the kitties their treats and opened my own presents. My friend Rick is having company over and feeding everyone in the afternoon, so I’ll probably wander his way and have dinner. It’s not in my nature to not offer help, so I’ll probably bring some food of my own to share. I’ve wanted to try my hand at brochette. (That’s not the right spelling, but spell check doesn’t have it in Italian, and I can’t remember the right way.)

Since McD’s is closed Sunday for the holiday, Summit is closed Monday, and I only work McD’s on Saturdays and Sundays, I get two whole days off. And this time it’s not a sick day! I intend to enjoy this to the fullest. By that I mean, I’M NOT DOING A DARN THING I DON’T HAVE TO DO!

Everybody have a safe and happy holiday.

Holiday Cheer

So, I'm making all my close friends and family these CD's for Christmas. I sent out an email to all of them asking the general flavor of music they would like to hear. I got my responses and began scanning my stock of music for appropriate choices, and making lists of what should go on whose CD.

I have to admit that I really like every single list I've made. I know that doesn't mean the recipient will, but I'm willing to take that chance.

Anyway, some of the requests required me to step outside my own personal box of music because I just haven't gotten that far in my collection yet. So I have done some shopping for the less expensive compilation-type CD's to accomodate those requests.

Note to Self Number 1: K-mart is not a good source of quality music products. I purchased a couple of CD's the other night for a reasonable price that fit my budget. They both were compilations and would also fit my own personal collection well. I brought them home and proceeded to open them so I could rip them into my pc. The first went very well. I opened it, took out the CD, put it in the pc, and I ripped it. The second was a different story altogether.

After going through all the same steps to dig the CD out of its impervious packaging, I opened the CD case to find...

Nothing.

There was nothing in the case. And it was sealed, completely, just like every CD I've ever bought that actually had a CD in its case. This one was empty.

Ok, I can handle that. The wrapper and the little tape strip with the CD name on it were both a shambles, but I felt confident I could make it right with K-mart. I put the empty CD case and the remains of the wrapper and tape strip back in the bag from my purchase. The next day I went to K-mart after work and proceeded to explain my problem. I was answered with that, "You don't really expect me to believe that?" look that jaded retail clerks give everybody who has to return anything for any reason. I asked if I could exchange it for the same CD but this time with a CD in the CD. "Yes, but it has to be this exact one. Bring the replacement up here so we can check it."

Fine. I'm jipped out of a CD and I'm treated like I did the jipping. Ok, fine. I go back to the music department and begin pouring through the compilations again. They are in an even worse mess than when I shopped there the first time. And worse, there's no sign of the exact CD I had bought. There were 2 other CD's along the same lines, but they weren't the EXACT same one I had bought. Oh boy. Bracing myself for a fight, I returned to the customer service counter.

"I've been through every CD back there twice and the electronics clerk even tried to help me and we couldn't find the same one. These 2 are the same price as the one I bought. May I please exchange it for one of these?"

Again with the look. "You're welcome to go back and search the racks for me. I don't mind. All I know is that I was jipped and I'm being treated with disbelief and mistrust for trying to get what I bought."

A break in the facade at last. "Which of these would like to exchange it for? (sigh)"

I read the backs of the CD's I picked up and chose the one that seemed closer to my original choice. "May I check it to make sure there's a CD in it? I don't want to go through this again."

"(sigh) Go ahead and check it." I could hear the "if you must" that was unspoken. By this time I didn't care. I was NOT going through this again! I checked and the CD was in the case. Yay! I took my receipt and went home to rip the music into my pc.

Note to Self Number 2: K-mart is not a good source of quality music products. The fabulous replacement CD was ripped onto my system last night while I watched a movie. Everything seemed to be fine. Tonight I burned the CD for the person that the CD had primarily been purchased for. I used several songs from that CD plus many that were already on my pc.

As I have done with all of these gift CD's, I played it after I had burned it--a sort of quality check. The last 2 or 3 songs have skips in them big enough to scare the man in the moon. They're like gaps in the rings of Saturn. They're like the empty space between galaxies. They're horrible and I want to scream at the thought that the CD I burned onto my pc may have been flawed. I am NOT taking the blasted thing back again. NO!

grrrrr....

So that's today's bit of Holiday Cheer. Happy Freakin' Holidays to you! *&^%...

Palm Trees and Christmas Lights

So far, I have not been able to break the habit of making a double-take every time I see a palm tree with the trunk wound up in Christmas lights. I know by next year it will probably be perfectly natural to me. But not yet. I bought myself a table-top pine tree in irridescent mylar for $10 at Walmart. It gives one the impression of a pale purple/pink tree (just a shade above white) covered with ice. Somehow that seems more natural than a palm tree with Christmas lights on it. Go figure.

But never fear. My love of the season is in no way dimished. I still drop coins in the Salvation Army bucket on my way into the store as I smile and nod at the skinny, sweaty man in a Santa Suit. And I am very close to making up my mind which wreath I want for my front door--the one that's all red berries, or the one that's pine cones, red berries and fake pine needles. I haven't spotted one in irridescent mylar yet. Or one made of palm fronds. I suppose I could keep looking. Or not.

I have laid out my Christmas decorations with loving care and spent a good hour cursing at my tiny tree with its tiny ornaments because the store where I bought everything else didn't have tiny ornament hangers; they only had gargantu-hangers that you'd use to hang the grapefruit-sized ornament on the giant tree in Rockefeller Center. So, in my usual impatient manner, I bought the big ones because I would rather spend an hour cursing Christmas trees, ornaments and their hangers than wait an extra day until I could find the small hangers. I'm sure I will be cursing just as much after New Year's when it's time to unwind the gargantu-hangers from the tiny branches. But hey, that's a month away. I'll do it New Year's day when I'll have the whole darn day to cuss about it. I'm sure the cats will enjoy the flow of words. :)

What is he thinking?

Don't we all (women, I mean) think that sometimes? If there's a male in our lives in any capacity, we all seem to gravitate to that question, however briefly, at least once before he makes his way back out of our lives.

So, there's this friend of mine that I met down here. Nice guy, Joe. (I changed his name to protect the innocent, but most of my readers probably know who it really is. Hey, he's only so innocent.) But really, he's always willing to help someone in need, happy to join you at the mall or a movie or the Chinese Buffet around the corner (that really stinks, by the way). He was the single most helpful person during my move from the towers to here. And I appreciate all the help he has given, and would gladly help him if I thought he needed it.

But like all men I've known, he's a complete mystery to me. I knew before we ever went out that he dated around a lot. So I don't have a problem with that (except when he's out on date with someone else when I want to see him...). Yeah, I know. Shut up and let me ponder, OK?

So, knowing that he goes out on all these dates (which I would also do if: I had time; I had money to spare; I had energy), I find myself wondering, "What is he thinking when he goes out on all these dates with all these different women?" What is he thinking? Seriously!

You go out on a date with someone because you're looking for something in them. Something to share, something to talk about, someone to talk to, something in common or something to debate. I know some people go out on a date looking only for sex. That's their choice, and I guess as long as they're careful and they communicate that fact from the start it's all fine and dandy. But if you're clearly looking for something, I have to wonder what it is that you want.

But that's just me I guess. I can keep from picking at a sore better than I can keep from trying to dig into the subconcious meanderings of the human mind (and if you've ever seen me going at a scab, you know what I mean here). I don't know what I'm doing in there, but I find myself digging around looking for gold anyway.

I spent a couple of years in a very close, very intimate relationship with someone who is (thankfully) now back to being a friend--one who also lives very far away now. He never really claimed the relationship. In fact, he acted pretty much the same as Joe, only more openly secretive. (Go ahead, jiggle that around on the end of your spoon for a while before you try to swallow it.) Openly secretive. What that means (for those who couldn't swallow it all at once) is that he would say he was going out with someone else but that he would rather die than say who it was. Even though I knew even before he did. Because I can't keep from picking at that sore. I have to laugh at Joe because we'll be chatting and he'll be telling me something about his day, and he'll suddenly "forget" what he was doing during some long period of time. Does he really think I can't put that together? What is he thinking?

They're all insane. They really are.

Tonight, I took myself out for Chinese Buffet (at a different place that's not as crappy as the one around the corner). As usual, when I was clearly winding down they brought my check with a fortune cookie. I found it amusing and wanted to share it with Joe. So I called him on my way out of the parking lot.

Me: What are you doing?
Joe: Vaccuuming. You?
Me: Oh, I just ate some Chinese and I'm heading home.
Joe: Wow, I'm getting ready to eat Chinese too!
Me: Oh?
Joe: Yeah, a friend is coming over and we're going to eat Chinese, watch a movie and hang out. (Notice two key words/phrases here: "Friend" and "Hang Out")
Me: Well, then that's nice. I was just thinking you'd enjoy my fortune cookie.

And so on... So, again I ask, "What is he thinking?" Does he not realize that my 39-year-old, slightly-more-than-average-intelligence (only slightly, but still more) brain can't connect those to what happens when I come over and do that exact same thing? Come on! Give me some freakin' credit! I don't act like a dumb bimbo; why do people assume I am one?

But all in all, he's a good friend to me when he can be. And I doubt I have enough energy (spiritual, mental, or physical) to give a true relationship the attention and effort it deserves. So, who am I to bitch about it anyway?

I'm the bitch, that's who.

Hey, maybe that's what he's thinking...

I love this place

Sunshine sparkled on the water as I sat on a sailboat in shorts and a t-shirt in the final days of November. I couldn't believe that I was on a sailboat. Then I realized the other half of that statement, and I couldn't believe that I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt outside in the final days of November.

I must have moved to Florida. I love this place.

This was actually my second sailboat experince here. On my birthday, the same people who I was with Saturday happened to be taking the boat out and invited me. Of course I said yes. It sounded like a wonderful way to spend my birthday. Of course, since that happend mid-week, I had to work. So we had an evening sail that day. Wow, was that ever great! The evening started out cloudy, so I was worried that I wouldn't be able to see the full(ish) moon. I needn't have worried. I was in Florida afterall. A short time into the trip the clouds broke and the moon dazzled us with her silver beauty, touching the night-dark clouds with silver hi-lites and giving me even more reason to love it here.

But Saturday was when I got the real treat. All the time I've been here, I've been watching the water, trying to spot dolphins or manatee. I've never seen anything that I could say without a doubt was one or the other. But Saturday, sailing in the afternoon sun through a channel of the Indian River, 3 different groups of 3 dolphins each accompanied us through the wake of other vessels. Ahhhh.

Did I mention that I love this place?

The Next Time...

The next time I have to move:

--I'm taking everything I own to one of those Goodwill places and giving it to the poor. Except maybe my computer. All I need is my computer. And this lunchbox. I'm in the phone book! I'm somebody!

--I'm not forwarding anything, darnit!

--I'm leaving my cats at someone else's house for the first month so I don't step on them when I get off the ladder from failing to hang my curtains.

--Phone service? Who needs it?

--What address on my driver's license? I swear, that's where I live officer!

--Oh, you mean I'm supposed to register my car in THIS state now? Why bother--I'm already on my second address here!

--I'll say my hellos and goodbyes to my new neighbors all in one sentence.

--I'll maybe mark some of the boxes that got "re-organized" from this move. Unless I actually unpack them. Now there's a thought...

I WILL PAY SOMEONE ELSE TO PUT MY HOUSE TOGETHER AND DO ALL THIS PAIN THE BUTT STUFF FOR ME! Jeeze what a nuisance!

A happier version of the move coming up. Once I find it in my computer. That's a story in itself.

Never ever ever try to change a setting in your monitr. For some reason it makes your conputer go insane and you have to restore back to something like the beginning of time. Lost all my bookmarks, my settings are all wonky and everything keeps making me re-register my stuff. Oy. Oh, by the way: If I had your blog address before, I don't anymore (lost all my bookmarks). I know the O'Blog's not sorry to hear that, but for those who are, please email them to me again. Thanks. ;)

Moving is such a joy...

Well, the big weekend has finally arrived. I am happy to say that help was not as hard to find as I feared. Yesterday, I worked the 2nd job until 10, came home and changed clothes and called my friend to see how soon he could get here. I then packed the cats into their carriers and called Deb to pick them up. They were staying at her place for the day so I didn't have to worry about escape attempts while men moved my furniture out. I would have taken them to her, but I'd managed to get my truck parked across the two spaces directly outside the door we'd be using. If I moved the truck, I'd lose those spaces, so she was a doubly good friend and came to get them. I know Holden didn't mind. He loves the boys and is good with them.

People began trickling in and moving whatever we could fit. The last arrival was the pickup with the trailer. Nolan had to pick it up from another co-worker and I guess there was a delay. But his arrival couldn't have been timed better if he'd planned it. He got there just as we were pulling in for the last caravan of stuff and were trying to figure out how to load a queen sized box-spring and mattress, a full-sized box-spring and mattress, a large dresser and a computer table onto cars, suv's and vans. Since we now had the trailer, we got it all loaded up at one time and made the last run in the mid/late afternoon.

I had a total of 8 people helping me and four of them were men. I nearly cried with joy to see such a great turnout. It really made a huge difference. Today, I'm taking the clothes out of my closet, and the food out of my fridge. I'll be packing the computer up as soon as I do a few last minute things on it. Then I'll clean this place up and be on my way. But not without spending a few minutes on the balcony absorbing what I can of my view one last time.

Then it will be back to unpacking the new place and figuring out just what I want where. This time, though, I think I'll put the pictures on the wall. I'll be here at least a year, I might as well look like I live here! :)

There are things I like about the new place, too. Not the smell. The last tenant must have been a heavy-duty chain smoker. The smell is so entrenched in the walls that as soon as you finish spraying freshener, the smoke smell is back. Ew. I'll have to really work hard to fix that! But the property is pretty quiet, and there are lots of beautiful, old trees. So far the folks I've seen seem pretty friendly. My next door neighbor has a windchime that makes a very pretty sound in the breeze.

Ok, that's all for now. My foot is falling asleep because I'm sitting on the floor typing this. I won't have constant access to the internet for the next two weeks so this will probably be my last note here for a while. But, never fear. I'll be back. ;)

Hurricane Shmurricane

Not really. There really was quite a lot of damage from Wilma. Fortunately, most of it was well south of me. Not that I would wish it on the folks down south; but I am glad the worst of it wasn't here.

This morning, I left early to make sure I had plenty of time to get to work. It was pretty dark out there still, the rain was coming down fairly heavily, and the wind was blustering and blowing. I was relieved to arrive at work unscathed in spite of numerous idiots flying past as if the sun were shining and the roads were dry.

Work was typical. No more or less phone traffic than any other day. Many of our clients were closed for the day since they were in the direct path of Wilma. I imagine tomorrow will be fairly busy, since those folks will be re-entering their buildings and assessing the damage. That's how it was the last two times, anyway.

I left work pretty close to on-time. I wanted to come home and check on the fur-bellies. They were on my mind all day. When I left this morning, they were pretty nervous and jittery. I needn't have worried. When I came home they were their normal hungry selves. I enterred the apartment and did the cats between my feet walk to the kitchen, fed them, then went about the business of checking out the apartment for any signs of damage.

I'm happy to report the apartment is fine and so are my belongings. I was nervous about that after walking through the building to pick up my mail. I noticed water on the floor of the North tower, pretty much all over the first floor. The South tower, where my place is, didn't look too bad on the ground floor. But when I got out of the elevator, there was water all down the hallway. That's when I really got nervous. But like I said, my place seems to be fine.

I had thought ahead and unplugged the computer, stereo, etc. I hadn't thought ahead and taken anything out to thaw for dinner. I decided to take advantage of the blissfully cool temperatures outside. I walked to Wendy's a block and a half to the North. It was the only fast food place open in walking distance. I could have gone to the pub on the corner, but I wasn't in the mood for smoke. On my way to Wendy's I took note of some of the damage. There is a postal center a couple of buildings North that had all of the newspaper boxes blown over, with all their newspapers still inside. There were lots of branches and palm fronds on the ground pretty much everywhere. A United Way sign was leaning precariously forward. The sign at Wendy's had been blown out of its frame and shattered all over the place. I found pieces of it in the parking lot of my own building.

Power seems to have taken a small hit, but not more than could be withstood. I am glad I unplugged the electronics, though. Water seems to be OK also. Since it's so comfy outside, I turned off the AC and cracked the balcony door open, opened the half of my bedroom window that works, and turned on the fans to move the air around. It's very nice. Ahhhhh. This I like!

I'm looking at video from farther south--South FL and the keys. I'm really glad I'm not there.

The sun has been setting while I've been typing this. A soft red glow is touching the horizon to the southwest and the sky is clear and beautiful. If I had someone to walk with, I'd probably be out there enjoying that beautiful sky from the outside. The temps overnight tonight should be around 50. Yay! I'll be sleeping comfy tonight!

Ok, I've got packing to do in preparation for my move this weekend. Since all my stuff didn't blow away in the storm, I guess I'd better get busy!

Happy Samhain

Last night, Rick and I decided to go to Universal’s “Halloween Horror Nights.” I’ve been to many haunted houses in my day—some real, some theatrical, some as a part of the cast. Universal knows how to do a haunted house. “Of course they do,” replied Rick when I noted this half-way through a jog between two such attractions (on opposite sides of the park). “They do make movies with lots of special effects.”

I’ll grant that. And they certainly had a good crew picked out for the sexy-wild-demon-things on stilts. What amazing body-paint (if that’s what it was). I didn’t get close enough to touch their skin. Besides, I doubt they would appreciate me pawing at their legs to see if it was a body stocking. No matter, the overall effect was fantastic.

Rick explained to me that they had a cast call for this, and the folks who did it are actually hired for the entire run of the event, which lasts through Halloween, I believe. I think they made good choices.

And the sets for the houses and the outdoor effects were just as incredible. Green laser lights cut through the fog from the smoke machines; music ranging from haunting background theme music to wailing, head-banging rock; wherever a queue formed up for the entrance to a house, the folks in line were entertained by footage from numerous (Universal) horror flicks. Not being a large fan of horror, some of these required me to turn my head and go back to looking at trees, stars, and other guests. Yes, I know. I’m not a large fan of horror, yet I drool at the thought of tromping around for 6 hours through a park dedicated to horror, and doing this after working an 8-hour shift at McD’s.

Was I tired today? You bet your tail feathers I was! But it was very much worth it.

So what were my top creepy spots? (Weak stomach? Skip past the *’s.)
** The teddy bear room is definitely in the group. There’s something infinitely creepy about a child’s room with out-of-tune “Jack-in-the-box” music playing and growling sounds coming from some unknown location. Oh, and don’t forget the random clacking of some door or window in another room.
** Most of the houses led us through mazes made more fearsome by dangling fabric, packing blankets, strips of plastic, “blood-stained” gauze. All of these were creepy to me. Very creepy.
** But none of those danglers compared to the body collector house. The whole point of this house seemed to be to cause people to vomit. Not that I did that, nor did I see a live person do it (but there was that cool dummy vomiting in a trashcan). But I thought I might when I reached up to move one of the large plastic bags hanging from the ceiling out of my way. The bag wasn’t what creeped me out. It was the inside. They had done a very good job of making the bags feel like they contained the softened remains of what once had been human beings—bones, tissue, everything. Ew. People who know me, know that I’m not a very girly-girl. But icky is icky and that is that. And that was icky.

Rick finally got to get a good chuckle at me because I was finally REALLY creeped out instead of being fascinated by the make-up or the props or the set… Well, I’m glad he enjoyed it. That’s ok. He was creeped out by the alien house. And he’d done it before. So there.

And now, I’ve completed my tale of mystery and intrigue (I have no idea where that came from. I’m tired. I said that already.), and I am going to watch a non-creepy movie on the couch with a blanket and my favorite two fur-bellies, hoping to stay awake past the opening credits.

Happy Samhain!

More about my view

Most mornings, I walk down to the end of the sidewalk, where it meets the wall of the river/lagoon. I look at the sun through the beuatiful, medium-size Magnolia tree, and watch how the sun is reflected off the water as I approach. And I look at the VAB and launch towers and think good and peaceful thoughts before heading off to work.

On mornings when it is hazy or foggy, this has a completely different effect. The sun doesn't shine through the Magnolia tree, and many times it isn't visible on the water. The haze usually covers the sun so that the sky resembles something from a mystic story of old--Merlin, or Vikings, or some such. There's usally a fog across the water on those mornings, and the cape is invisible behind it, even though I know it's there. This adds to the mystique and causes my day to start in a dreamy, disconnected from reality sort of way. Not a bad way, mind you. Just a sideways view of the world around me kind of way.

At the moment, it's cloudy out and there's a good breeze/gentle wind going on out there. It is late afternoon and the sun is sinking behind the clouds. I am sitting at my computer with the balcony door to my right and I am looking out from my tree-house view at the tops of the trees as they wave and rustle in the wind. I'm not playing any music and the TV is off. The world is giving me music enough right now.

I'm really going to miss this.

Naps on the Beach

After I got out of McD's today, Deb called to see if I wanted to join her and Holden at the beach. I had planned to stick to my routine of taking a shower, then a nap, and possibly following that with a stimulating trip to the laundromat so I can wear clothes to work the rest of the week.

I may hvae to go to work nude this week. I decided the beach was a much preferred choice. And it was. We went through the usual scneario: Deb loaded up the car with Holden and their beach stuff, stopped to pick up drinks and gas, and came down to wait in my parking lot for me while I took a moment to get ready (read: I stripped out of the McD's get-up and into my suit, unshaven, and locate my beach towel and sandals, totalling about 5 minutes worth of effort that somehow stretched into 20. ??) We went to beach and got all set up while Holden ran down to test the water. Shortly after sitting down on the beach pad, and after a few brief words with Deb, I drifted off into a peaceful slumber accompanied by the sounds of wavesand happy babies, and the wonderful feeling of a delicious breeze which never paused in its gentle carresses. I hope I didn't snore too loudly.

After I while I got up and walked on the edge of the water. It was warm and inviting and I was easily convinced to make my way in up to my thighs. There was rip-tide today so I didn't risk going in far enough to swim, but I didn't need to. My feet had been sore when we left for the beach, since I had just come off an 8-hour shift of slinging burgers. The walk on the sand and throuh the waves worked wonders on relieving the aches.

It reminded me of sitting with my friend Rick last night. We were watching a movie and his feet were very sore. I tried to help him out with a massage, but they were apparently much too sore for that to be much help. After walking on the beach for a while, I thought maybe he should try that. I'll have to mention it to him.

As for going to work nude this week, I apparently will have to do that since today was supposed to be laundry day and now I am looking at a beautiful sunset off my balcony and thinking, "Well, I have one pair of pants I can iron, and there's those skirt things..." Since I have eaten dinner and had a nice glass of wine, I think I will have to wait and try to do laundry after work tomorrow night.

I’m Going to Miss My View

I think I’ve decided where I’m going to move. It doesn’t look like I’ll have any problem getting in there, either. But it’s nowhere near the water this time, so I won’t have my beautiful water view and tree-house feeling, since the new place will either be 1st or 2nd story. And I’ll miss having beautiful scenes like the sunrise over the water, or the mystical scenes, like how it looks like the world ends at the end of my parking lot on really hazy days. I’ll also miss watching lightning from a distance out my balcony window late at night, or rain coming across the water as a storm moves inland from the other side of the lagoon.

The upsides of the new place are: It’s gated, so no more random weirdoes wandering into my building. There’s no elevator, so I won’t have to stand in someone else’s pee to get to my apartment. The way the parking is there, I should almost always be able to park right by my entrance. It’s still in Titusville, so my drive to work will still be about 10 minutes with no traffic. The rent is about the same, but the apartment is a little smaller. But it’s still a 2 bedroom, so I’ll still have storage and a place for guests to crash. And I think Binks and Mr. Bond will enjoy it as much as they enjoy this place now that they have adjusted to it.

So, now that I have found it, I have lots to do. I have to save up more money because I’ll need to pay deposits (again). I’ve only got $300 coming back from here, so that leaves me another $100-$150 to save up. Good thing I picked up that extra job! And I’ll have to make arrangements at the weekend job so I have a weekend off to do the move. (That way I can coerce male friends and co-workers into helping me by offering them free pizza and beer/soda, and talk them into using their trucks so I don’t have to rent one for a day.)

Guess I’ll still be stressed a little longer until this path finds its end. That’s OK, at least there’s an end in sight! Yay for the end!

9-Day Weeks, Good and Bad News from the Apartment World, Dragonflies and Cats

In order to have more than $2 left after paying my bills, I decided to pick up a second job. I did some applying around town and didn’t get any bites. Then, one day I was driving back home and saw a Now Hiring sign in McD’s. I thought to myself, it’s better than being broke, and it’s easy work.

So I U-turned, and went inside to fill out an application. The manager was waiting for me to finish the application so she could review it right away. I got hired on the spot and went through new employee orientation before I left that day. I started my first shift the following Saturday. I work Saturday and Sunday from 6 a.m. to 2 p.m. and they feed me free food somewhere in the middle there. I worked it out, and I now have a 9-day week. I start with Monday. Monday through Friday, I work a regular 8-ish hour day and come home to do whatever I do then go to bed. Saturday 1, I work at McD’s until 2, come home, shower, take a nap, and then have Saturday 2, during which I do whatever I do, which will sometimes be a Hash. Sunday 1, I work at McD’s until 2, come home, shower, take a nap, and then have Sunday 2, during which I do laundry and housework or whatever. Not all weeks will be 9-day weeks. I refuse to spend every waking moment of my life working. But for now, I will do what it takes to keep my head above water.

Good news from the apartment world came in the form of a conversation I finally managed to have with the building manager here. It turns out that if I find a new place, I can get out of my contract here with no repercussions, as long as I provide 30-days notice. Yay! So, I stepped up the pace with the search. I hooked up with the realtor my friend Deb is using to find a house to rent, hoping to catch a decent deal, and started calling around to the other affordable complexes in the area.

The bad news from apartment land comes from not being able to find a decent house to rent in neighborhood any better than the building I’m in now. Failing (so far) in that, I continued with the calling of complexes. I liked several that were within my range, but none of them have anything available any time soon. I do have one lead, which I will check out tomorrow. There’s a gated complex nearby that has reasonable rates. I have my doubts about it, but have no choice but to check it out. Maybe I’ll be pleasantly surprised. All I know right now is that they have a place coming available in the next month or so.

My wild and wonderful balcony has spawned a new population. Not ants, thank heavens, or icky spiders, double-yay; I now have a bustling community of dragonflies hanging around in my balcony. I like dragonflies, and apparently the cats find them amazingly entertaining. When I came home this evening I opened the blinds to the balcony door, and saw at least a dozen dragonflies out there. They are fairly small, so they must be young. I don’t know how they breed, but think maybe it’s got to do with water, since my AC has a constant river of water flowing off it from its efforts to keep my apartment cool—quite a difficult task since my apartment is insulated with notebook paper. Anyway, the cats saw these delectable temptations flitting around out there and began a comic dance in front of the door, complete with summersaults and back flips. They have settled down now, after about an hour of this, and are content to lay on the floor watching the dragonflies, their ears twitching and eyes twinkling.

With this happy vision in my head, I think I will eat the last of the cheese and crackers I fixed, and go to bed to read.

Good night!

Words in Favor of Hashers

For anyone who has ever encountered a group of Hashers (members of a world-wide organization known as Hash House Harriers), and come away thinking that we are careless, immature, or anything else negative, this is for you to read.

I have a friend, who is a hasher, whose home was destroyed in Katrina. His name is Bryan and he is in Biloxi, Mississippi. Bryan called me Friday night for 2 reasons: 1) to let me know that he survived and was well, and 2) to let me know that his house was destroyed and he was in desperate need of help. He needed someone with a truck to get to Biloxi by Sunday to help him with whatever water-logged belongings he might be able to salvage. Sunday was his only chance to do this because he is part of the disaster recovery team on his AF base.

Since I was unable to get there myself, I posted a message on the local Hash E-mail list and made contact with our former home hash in Virginia. People from the local list had various responses, all of them supportive. Those who could not go forwarded my message to other Hash E-mail lists; others called me with advice to offer him; and some got together by phone and organized a convoy to head to Biloxi with supplies and rations.

I am so very proud of all my Hashing friends, and I am very happy to be a part of the world these people share. I know that if my world completely fell apart, and I could not reach my own family for help, any Hasher would be willing to offer help in any way they could, and you can't imagine the relief that gives me when I think how quickly a person's world can turn completely upside-down like Bryan's has.

In Other News

Have you seen the word on rising gas prices? Boy, oh Boy, down here in Titusville, EVERYBODY got the word. I got it, and decided to stop in at the station and fill up on the way home. So did half of Titusville. Fun, fun, fun.

I paid $2.52 at the place that's generally cheapest in my immediate area. From what I hear, it's going to be over $3.00 a gallon soon because of that nasty b@@ Katrina. What a wicked witch!

Not to be an alarmist or anything, but I'm seriously considering taking the money I'm (trying to sav)ing for a new computer desk (because mine looks like a tired old nag with a droopy back) and use it to buy a bicycle. I'll only get wet when it rains...Oh, yeah. That's every day. *(&^^%

New Blog Feature

On my last entry on this site I had four comments when I came back to look at things. Only one was for real--and rather amusing, I should say. So, from now on, if you're going to comment on my blog, you'll be faced with the minor inconvenience of a word-match tool. It's part of your comment, and it's easier than pi. Or pie, even.

If you have a blog, which you must if you are commenting, I strongly recommend using this tool. It's in your settings when you open your blog. Click Settings, then Comments and scroll down to just about the bottom. CLICK YES! Save yourself some aggravation.

Just to make sure I wasn't going to completely tick people off, I went back into my last blog and left a comment. It works and it really is easy. And auto-comment programs can't read it apparently. We'll see about that.

Poetry Day

Light Alight
Fade away from the dark and into lightness.
Bring out your spirit to shine.
Find pathways and make trails to bright shores.
I will wait for your light to alight.

Spirit Journey Dawn
There is a song inside my spirit
that yearns to be sung aloud.
There is a portrait inside my mind
that yearns for the eye to see.
For all that is hidden within,
there is much that is known of me.

A place I have visited in my mind
and walked through in my dreams.
A word I have spoken in my heart
and written on pages unseen.
These are the acts of the spirit
and to see them we must believe.

Here are the traces of love,
joy and laughter; all free.
Here are the moments of pleasure
taken in guiltless élan.
Here is where the spirit lies
awaiting our journey’s dawn.

Rules for writing poetry.
1. Candles of various flavors and sizes must be burning in several places around you, and no other lights may be on.
2. Music appropriate to the mood should be playing in background, just loud enough to influence the writing in a positive manner.
3. A glass of fine wine should be ready to sip as inspiration courses through your being.
4. A cat should be curled up at your feet, purring happily.
5. A gentle breeze should be blowing outside your open window that overlooks a beautiful water scene.

Reality of writing poetry.
1. Your candles are hurricane candles that are supposed to last for 60 hours and are gone in 60 minutes.
2. The music that is playing is all bass and it’s coming from the apartment below you.
3. You’re out of wine or beer and your milk went sour during the night. You can either make coffee and drink it without milk (ew) or have a soda or a bottle of water.
4. The cat at your feet might be purring, but it’s because he just ate your shoelaces off your only pair of work shoes. Rotten little fiend.
5. The gentle breeze is the hurricane passing south of you, and you can only see straight south, because the balcony door is broken and you can’t step out to look at the water to the east.

And Then It Goes REALLY FAST!

So, I finally made myself write the 3 extremely short essays and E-mail them to my boss, and all of sudden, BOOM! It's now 9:16 pm. Where did the 2 hours go? The essays were only, like, 3-5 sentences long. Not paragraphs, sentences. I had been doing paragraphs (and sometimes pages) and I was told that I was putting too much into it. So my essays were really, really short. What the ?

I think Foamy the Squirrel has been eating my brain cells. Stigmaaaaata. In my eye.

Time Flows Backwards

Wow. Time moves backwards when you’re looking for an excuse to not write that essay for your class at work. I was working pretty hard on running out of time. Then I looked at the clock. The first time it was 7:34 pm. I swear it was. I just looked again and it’s 7:25 pm. Now how did that happen?

How Was Your Day?

Today was a good day for the most part. I slept in—well, after I got up at 6 to feed the wailing masses of fur bellies, then returned to my happy bed—and took my time getting in gear. The child next door must have still been sleeping, or maybe it wasn’t home. Whatever the deal was, there was no noise coming from next door and that was fine with me.

I had no particular plans for the day, except maybe to watch the second video I had rented. I decided to save a ton of money on cable. I went back to the free basic cable that comes with my apartment and re-opened my account with Blockbuster. Since I don’t watch movies every day, it makes a lot more sense. Besides, with the cable you only get movie channels if you pay extra for them. Then, whatever movie channel you have (i.e. HBO, Starz) has a hundred different versions, and they’re all playing the same selection of movies in the same order, with maybe a 30-minute variation in the timing. What exactly ARE you paying for there? If I want selection, I’ll go to Blockbuster and walk the isles like a stalker until I find what I want, or something close enough to the mark.

Anyway, back to what may have been my point. I chose to pop in the second video and discovered that it was a 2-disc movie—on one disc. How cool can you get? Just like the old vinyl LP’s where the grooves are scratched on both sides, they can put media on both sides of DVD! Whodathunkit?

So I popped in the video (Net Force with Scott Bakula and Kris Kristopherson) and was enjoying it when my cell phone surprised me by ringing. Drop everything and find the phone. It used to never be more than 5 inches from my hand. Now I have to go hunt for it because I can’t remember where I sat it down last.

It was my friend Deb asking if I wanted to go to the beach. “How soon,” I asked. I was trying to scope out if I could get some more of my movie watched before she got here. “About 5 minutes. Throw on your suit and some sandals and meet me in the parking lot.” Well, I wouldn’t be watching the rest of this right away. I really need some sun on my poor beached-whale legs. Especially since my face and arms have gotten so much sun. The two ends of my body look like they are not on the same body. So I put extra sun block on my arms, and slightly less (but still sun block) on my legs, hoping to play catch up. It SEEMED like a good idea at the time. But, later, I discovered I had blossomed quite the rosy red rump. Aloe gel is my friend.

Deb and her son, Holden, were in the parking lot, waiting next to the dumpster when I got downstairs. I climbed in the Vanilla PT and we cruised out to the beach. This was the beach that is part of the Nature Preserve at the Kennedy Space Center. There are several (maybe a dozen?) different parking areas for the beach, most only large enough for 10-20 cars. You park and walk up a boardwalk/stairway thing to cross the line of palmetto-covered sand dunes and there you are on a beautiful beach—without 8 million tourists.

Deb and I carried most of the “stuff” while Holden directed us to the correct place in the sand, first marching us to the edge of the water to see how far up on the sand it was coming, then finally climbing back up the sandy embankment to a spot half-way between the wet sand and the dune.
Holden kicked off his flip-flops, grabbed his goggles and foam stick-bar-branch thing, and ran for the water while Deb and I set up camp. We laid ourselves out on the blankets and picked up our books and proceeded to read. Holden decided the tiny purple shells everywhere needed to be collected, so he gathered some and brought them up to show Deb. Purple is her favorite color. We alternated turns entertaining him in the water (and cooling ourselves off) but mostly he entertained himself, which I find admirable for such a young boy. My stepsons were both very good at that, too. (See, I don’t hate small children—I just want the wailing next door to cease.)

Eventually, we decided we had spent enough time on the beach, so Deb and I de-camped while Holden rinsed his shells in the VERY CLEAR sea water. I felt the need, there, to stress the VERY CLEAR part, because in Virginia the beaches are not clear water. You cannot see what is under your feet when you are wading at the edges of waves. Here, you can see it so clearly that you can tell a purple shell from a red one. It’s like that.

They dropped me off, and I promptly made my way to my apartment to kick the sand off my sandals on the balcony and hit the shower to reduce my body temperature and clean off the mixture of sweat, sand, and sun block. I also reconditioned my hair, a necessity after the harsh sun. I didn’t want my fresh hair color getting brassy or dull.

After that, I sat back down to watch the rest of “Net Force.” One of the cats decided to join me. That, the sun, and the Benadryl/Advil combo I took before going to the beach (I had a little bit of a headache that I didn’t want getting worse) combined to make me fall sound asleep and completely miss the middle part of the movie. So, now I need to watch it again. It’s a good thing I got week long rentals this time. Not that they would fee me—they did away with those late fees (technically)—but I like to finish things or be places by the time that was specified. Late does not sit well with me. If I walk into work at the time I am supposed to be there, I am late in my opinion.

Anyway, I had a long nap with my cat (catnap?) and woke to find the movie almost over. At this point, I decided it was time to cook the chicken thighs I had thawed. So, I got up and started working on that. Then the cats wanted feeding because I was in the kitchen. Well, it was pretty close to their dinner time, so I fed them. (It’s easier than stepping on a cat tail or nearly falling over into the garbage can every time I move.) Then I ate a small bowl of my dinner and decided to call Deb back and see if she wanted me to bring the movie over and watch it at her place. She said to come over, but the movie would probably not happen because she had a houseful of family. Her parents are in town after bringing Holden back from his summer with them, and her oldest Ian was off from work, so he was playing video games on the TV. Whatever; I didn’t need the movie as much as I wanted the company, so I brought the movie (just in case) and drove the mile to her house. I know a mile is an easy walk, but I figured I would be coming back in the dark and I live on the wrong side of the tracks, so I drove.

While there, Deb got a bug in her ear and had to go to Walgreen’s. She asked if anyone wanted to join her. I piped up and so did Mike, her husband. Off we went to Walgreen’s. Only we had a major detour to Belk’s that just opened up down the road. Deb’s been suffering from a severe lack of real stores in Titusville, apparently. So, we went to Belk’s and walked straight to the makeup counter to see that, yes, they carry Estee Lauder makeup. Then we wandered around the store looking at the adorable clothes and smelling the sexy men’s fragrances, then made our way back to the makeup counter so Deb could make her purchase and get her free goodie-bag. Then we went to Walgreen’s so Mike could buy deodorant, and we wandered around in there forever until I finally found myself with a bag of caramel kisses and two candy bars in my hand. How they got there, I have no idea. But I gamely bought them and promised myself I would take them to work where other people would eat most of them.

Back at Deb’s, my cell phone rang AGAIN. This time it was my sister. I had to go on the patio to talk to her—no signal in their house. My Mom’s in the hospital again--nothing to panic about. She has these blister things that come up on her legs (I think they’re called Stasis Blisters) that sometimes get infected, and to make sure she heals alright, they put her in the hospital and feed her mega-antibiotics. She’s at Portsmouth Naval. I know they’ll take good care of her. Sometimes I tease her about how it’s always Queen Rose Day when she goes there. Later I had a call from my Dad that I missed because my sucky phone had died after the first call from my sister. But he was just giving me the phone number to Mom’s room. It was too late to call her when I got that message, so I’ll do it tomorrow.

Eventually, I decided the frequency of my yawns meant it was probably time to come home, so I bailed and headed back here. Now here’s where my day got not-so-good. Since I’ve lived in this building, I’ve watched things generally down-spiral until I now live in a junky place reminiscent of something I’d expect to see in the projects. I walked out into the hall today and there was trash strewn from one end of the hallway to the other. I get in the elevator all the time and find people’s trash left in there. People have scratched graffiti onto the elevator walls (stainless steal) and written across the beautiful hand-painted murals that line the lobby hallway. Someone used some body part to punch a whole in the window of one of the stairwells, and it has become a regular sight for me to see police/sheriff’s cars in the parking lot when I come home for lunch.

Well, tonight topped it. After the numerous times I’ve gotten in the elevator to stand in what I have always been sure was pool water, tonight I finally got in the elevator to the lovely aroma of pee. Yes, indeed, they are now peeing in the elevator. I was flat-out pissed (the figurative kind). I stepped back out of the elevator and pressed a button to make it go up. This is the only way to get the other door to open when they are both in the same place.

I got in the elevator that just had the normal trash (soda bottles and candy wrappers) and dialed Deb to tell her what I’d found. Poor thing must have thought something really bad had happened for me to call her back like that. I told her I was just ticked off and needed to vent it to someone. She understood. She knows me well. She also knows I’ll let management know all about this. This is just ridiculous. How can people choose to live like this? GRRRRRR!

After I carried my shoes to the balcony (again) this time to air out the smell of pee, I decided I wanted some nachos. Holden had been snacking on some at their house, and I found I suddenly wanted some for myself. So I put some chips in a pie plate and sprinkled some cheese over them, set the oven to broil and put the pie plate on the top shelf. I was supposed to pay attention because I knew they’d get done quickly that way, but I got engrossed in the latest website they turned me onto. I won’t share this one because I don’t want any minors visiting and having their parents send me hate mails over it.

Anyway, I was laughing and enjoying that when I suddenly realized I smelled something burning. Great, my nachos. Yep, I have now created a new gourmet dish called Blackened Cheese Chips. You see, you take simple tortilla chips and shredded cheese, you put them in a pie plate and stick them in the oven on broil and forget them. You get charred, hard cheese with something like burned corn attached to it. Yum!

Actually, it was pretty good, as long as I ate around the solid black areas anyway. But I had to take quick action to avoid having my smoke alarm go off. The oven fan was already on, but the smoke was clearly way more than it could handle, so I ran to my bedroom (sorry folks downstairs—it was not a heard of elephants, I promise!) and got the great big fan that was so useful when my air went down. I rushed it to the living/dining area and plugged in, and cracked open the balcony door so the smoke would get sucked away from the range of the smoke detector. It worked apparently; that, or the smoke detector didn’t work. I choose the first one.

So there’s my day today, in a nutshell. I baked my rump at the beach, I slept through the middle of my movie, I bought bags of chocolate that I did not need, my Mom is in the hospital (getting spoiled), I stood in pee, and I tried to burn my building down.

How was your day? Never mind, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow is housework day. I have to wash my blankets to get the cat hair off of them. That should be exciting.

Bansdhee Baby

Somewhere around Titusville, some angry apartment dweller is thinking, how the devil can I get back at this annoying neighbor.

I'll tell you how. Move a small, unhappy child into your apartment. And teach it to wail like a bansdhee from sun-up to sun-down.

Don't get me wrong--I have sympathy for the tiny tot. It knows it lives in a crap-ass building that desperately needs renovation; and it knows its parents are ticked about that fact, too.

It also knows that sound travels VERY WELL through these walls when the pitch and decibels are at the right levels. And that's what keeps making me do things like turning on the "3 Tenors" CD and blasting Pavarotti in their direction.

I WAS using Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, Queen, Styx (earlier years when they ROCKED). You name it, if it got loud, I tried it. The babe was always just one decibel louder.

But then I was touring some other blogs that friends have pointed out to me. And I found a great suggestion. I'm going to add WHALE NOISE to my media player! Great suggestion from the O'Blog. Nods to that one. I think he should stream Dio constantly on his blog. That would be awesome.

And if that doesn't work, I'll continue watching "Moulin Rouge" at the best volume my poor little TV can manage.

I have nothing against the little tyke. It's just that I have never, ever in my whole time here, heard one happy sound come from that apartment. Not once. I find myself wanting to poke my head through the wall and make google eyes at it just to confuse it into silence.

Why do I say "it," you ask? Because I have never SEEN this baby. I have no idea if it is male or female. Gasp! OMG, I just figured it out. It's not a baby at all! It really IS a bansdhee! AAAAYYYYEEEE!

And the TV just gave me my solution. Some cereal commercial (don't ask me what--I don't pay that much attention) where some manager guy keeps trying to fire this guy who never hears him because he's eating crunchy cereal. Then the cereal guy gets an intern who learns to sit there doing nothing but eat crunchy cereal. So the manager guy makes a "V" out of his fingers and says he's sending them a death ray, and they think he's giving them a peace sign.

I bet if I did that to the bansdhee next door, I could confuse it enough to quiet it down for a time. Then, I'd tickle it until it laughed.

Yay Discovery!

Today, they launched the shuttle Discovery (finally). This morning I took a few minutes to walk down along the water and try to take a few snaps of the launch pad with the shuttle set up for launch. The sun was still a little low in the sky, and was shining right next to the launch pad, so I don't think those will turn out. But I tried, darn it.

Since I was at work at launch time, I was quite relieved to hear the announcement that we could all get off the phones to watch. All 100-odd of us went outside into the field and waited for the shuttle to appear in the sky.

It didn't take long, and those of us who were new to the experience were not disappointed. Well, maybe I was still a tiny bit sad that I didn't get to watch it from home, but I was still VERY excited to see be seeing it at all.

This was also Deb's first time so we stood next to each other and watched it. It was so great. Deb's husband, the stinker, is the boss where he works so he made arrangements to be off, and walked down to the water to watch it. I'm so jealous. But my boss (that is the boss above Deb who is my direct boss) is so cool that SHE stayed inside and handled the phones while we were outside watching. Gotta love that.

We didn't stay out long though. Once it becomes nothing more than a pin prick of light in the sky, there's nothing more you're going to see unless something remarkably bad happens, and I for one, don't want to witness THOSE events. It's bad enough that they happen.

Driving in this morning, I found myself questioning all the crazy people complaining about how much business they were missing this time because of lack of interest. They are absolutely insane. Route 1 was once again packed like sardines with cars, campers, RVs, etc. I needed breakfast and stopped in at McD's. Nuts, I tell you.

And then there's all the lemmings (read: tourists) trudging right across all the traffic (read: irritated locals trying to rush to work) with their arms laden with camp chairs, umbrellas and coolers. A family crossed in front of me while I was attempting to make a U-Turn onto Route 1 before the rushing on-coming traffic could trample me mid-turn. She looked right at me as if I were out of my mind for trying to drive a motor vehicle on a road. Didn't I know that the road was put there for HER to cross whenever she wanted? By the way, I was in mid-turn WHEN SHE STEPPED INTO THE ROAD.

I like to think that when you cross moving metal with bone and tissue, the moving metal will always win. So when I am the pedestrian, I am exceedingly careful to avoid ticking off the moving metal. I guess people think they're invincible. Having walked down the road of metal vs. flesh before, I do not ever intend to experience that again. So, being the Conscientious Driver that I am, I slammed on the brakes and almost turned over my *(&^% truck. If she only knew how close she came to being dead meat AFTER I saved her from my truck.

At lunch I sat in the kitchen at work and watched a press conference from NASA. The reporters were all asking the same question: what about the thing that fell off during the launch. Every time someone asked that question, the NASA people said "We haven't had a chance to view all the footage yet. We really can't answer that question yet." And then the next reporter would ask the same question a different way. It was like they told all the reporters "Don't ask this question" and all the reporters heard "Ask this question." They're all crazy.

Not me, though. Nope, I'm perfectly sane. The voices only bother me when they sing REALLY LOUD, and the visions of the horrible demises of those who annoy me only last 20 or 30 minutes. That's perfectly normal.

Why do you ask?

Exciting Day

So, today I said, "Hey, I think I'll go driving a blow a tire. That sounds like fun." No, I didn't really say that. But I sure did live it. Fortunately I was only going about 1 mile an hour since I was turning into the Kmart parking lot.

About a year ago, the place I always took my truck to for oil changes and tire rotation lost my wheel key and to pacify my anger they had their "top locksmith" remove all the lock bolts for me. So I thought. They left the one on the spare. I discovered this fact today after I unloaded the jack, tire iron, and spare tire cover in preparation to change the tire. I felt pretty unhappy at that point.

So, then I tried to call a friend who lives near where I was. I thought that I could at least get the blown tire off and go buy a new one. I couldn't get her at home or on her cell. There went that solution.

Just as I was getting ready to walk into Kmart to call a cab to take me and the bad tire to the tire store, not one, but two kind gentlemen pulled up to help me. And as it turned out I really did need help from both of them.

They saw that I was preparing to remove the bad tire, but that I hadn't taken the spare off the back yet. That's when I explained about the wheel lock. One of the men said he had a vice grip at home and offered to go get it. He was just a couple of blocks away. So, he left to get the tools he had at home and the other man went about getting the blown tire off the truck.

The tire was off and we were talking about driving me to the tire store after all, when the tool man came back with a hammer, a pipe (?) and the vice grip. I guess maybe the pipe and hammer were in case extra force was needed on the wheel lock. Apparently, all that was needed was the guy who took the other tire off. He strong armed with one good heave and off it came. Voila!

A few minutes later they were done and we were all on our way to our destinations. I got in my truck after saying about a million thank you's and headed off to Kmart, which is where I was going anyway.

I went to the pharmacy to drop off my prescription, hoping I wouldn't have as long a wait if they filled it while I did my other shopping. I should have known better, but that's no big deal. At least that time was spent in air conditioning.

Anyway, after I dropped off my prescription, I headed off past the patio furniture in search of coffee. To my surprise, I saw the man who provided all the muscle sitting there with his wife, testing out the rocking patio chairs. We smiled and commented on how much better it felt in there and that was that.

But all in all, even though I have to buy a tire, I think I had quite a big batch of good luck today, and for that I am very thankful.

Beautiful Moon

I love my balcony! Tonight, I took a break from working on the class I'm giving tomorrow and went out to the balcony to breathe the evening breeze and look at the full moon over the water.

Wow! What a sight. Full and beautiful, with just a touch of red tint from the atmosphere, she laid a beam of moonlight across the width of the Indian River Lagoon. The bar of moonlight seemed to want to connect my building to the Kennedy Space Center which was fully visible across the water on this unusually clear night.

Insert satisfied and misty eyed sigh here.

Well, I've done all I can do on my class for tonight anyway, so I'll just ramble for a little bit about my adventures with my brother and his family yesterday. They're here from Virginia, staying in Orlando for the week. Yesterday I joined them for a trip to Animal Kingdom. What can I say; I love the wild critters...and the animals too.

I got up as if I intended to go to work so I'd have plenty of time to get ready. I was meeting them by 9 a.m. so we could do the African Safari before it got too hot for all the animals. A safari isn't much fun if all the animals are hiding from the sun. We managed to get there in time for an 11:00 tour. Lots of animals were still out, especially the ones that don't mind hanging out in the water. One lion was out, dozing under a tree on a hill. Better than no lions at all.

I wanted the lion to eat the silly tourist who saw the African town setting and said, “This area needs some serious restoration.” Her companion was kinder than I would have been. I don’t think I could have stuck with saying, “It’s on purpose, honey.” I would have had to say something more like, “Go to Africa and redecorate the entire countryside, then come back here and make this match.”

We saw some of the shows, and a big parade, and rode some of the rides. The only other thing I had in mind that I wanted to do was to visit the Asia section where they have a wonderful setting of Asian ruins and a bazaar, etc., and you walk through this setting and see animals, birds, and reptiles as you go. Here, I saw more large cats--tigers. Four were in one area, two of them lounging in a large pool of water and the other two in the shade watching the silly snacks—I mean tourists. The other was in a different section, but I think there were more that weren't where we could see them. They were all beautiful anyway.

The kids were normal kids, swinging constantly back and forth between excited and energetic, and tired and cranky. Can't blame them really. I think the “comfort level” (read DIS-comfort level) was somewhere around 1,000. I think the weather man put it at a measly 105, though. What do they know anyway? (A heck of a lot more than I do!)

As the day wound down, and the grown-ups were showing signs of surpassing the kids in crankiness, we decided to have a bite to eat at the Rainforest Cafe. My sister-in-law now thinks I'm a complete and utter freak (my brother already knew it) because of comments I had made waiting in line for a ride. The ride was indoors and the walls in the queue were decorated with imprints from leaves and ferns and such; I had commented that I wanted walls like that in my house. Then at dinner I noted the jungle vines decorating the ceiling and the giant mushroom motif over the bar; I stated that I needed giant mushrooms and jungle vines in my bedroom. My brother and his wife both laughed at me. The kids laughed too, but I think that had a different reason for it.

I came home exhausted and with a pounding headache, but overall I was very glad to have gone. It was great seeing them all again, and it was a lot of fun going to the park again. And driving home I had a wonderful view of the moon as she got closer to full. When I reached the apartment, I tossed food down for the cats and rushed out to the balcony to see her over the water. Last night, there was the cloud effect going on, too, which made her look mysterious and aloof. I just can't enough of this sky.

Full Moon Coming

Tomorrow's a full moon. She's so big now that if you don't look closely, you think she already is full. Last night she shown outside my window as I got ready for bed, so I opened the blinds and let her shine in.

She was like a spotlight shining down to the Earth below. A ray of moonlihgt reflected off of each slat of the blinds and made them look like a stairway made of moonlihgt.

It reminded me of flying down with my Dad to go to my aunt's funeral. I had the window seat (I love the window seat) and watched a white spotlight travel along the ground along side us for most of the journey. It wasn't until we passed across calm water that I knew for sure it was the moon. For all I knew it could have been a light off of the plane we were in. But it was the moon. The water was so calm I could see the shades clearly and there was no doubt about it.

Anyway, I like watching the moon, and she was really pretty last night. Hope I get a good view of her again tonight.

Family Visit

My brother and his family have come down to Orlando for their vacation. Today they drove here and spent the afternoon with me. It was great to see them all.

I had told them I wanted to take them to the Space Walk Hall of Fame museum. My brother thought I'd lost my mind when I told him to turn into a mall and park. "I thought we were going to a museum," he said.

"The museum's in the mall," I replied. "Just park; you'll see."

We went inside and walked towards the museum when I noticed the gates were down. I thought I'd messed up the plan and the museum was closed. It wasn't; it just didn't open for another 30 minutes.

On the way to the museum, we had passed an Italian restuarant that I had commented was good. Rob said, "Well, we might as well have some lunch while we wait."

So, we went in and had french fries and cheese pizza. Then we went to the museum.

I expected my nephew, Alex, to be ecstatic. He is, after all, a young boy. He enjoyed it, but he showed his share of my brother's blood anyway. No less than 10 minutes into the visit, he started asking, "Are we done yet?" Just like Rob--always impatient and ready to move on to the next thing. I remember when my family would go to Busch Gardens, Rob was always ready to move off on his own. He'd weave through the crowds like the people weren't even really there. And I learned to weave through just like him. As soon as we were in the park, we were gone. Alex will be just like that.

But the one who surprised me with how much she enjoyed it was my neice, Emily. She asked good questions, and her mind, like mine, went off into fanciful places. She has a wonderful imagination, and I look forward to seeing the places she will go with it.

My brother and I had been discussing movies while we ate, and I mentioned there was a cinema in the mall as well. When we finished eating, he went down and checked show times for the new "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" with Johnny Depp. We'd have plenty of time to look around in the museum before the next showing.

So after we'd seen everything we could in the museum, we went down and took in the movie. It was very different. Emily sat next to me. She seemed a little disturbed a couple of times and I asked if she was OK, but she always said yes.

When it was done, we all came back to my apartment, but they couldn't stay for long after that. Rob and Alex are both allergic to cats, and no matter how clean you are, they start puffing up and getting scratchy drippy before long. Today was no different. So, after a while, they said good night. On Wednesday, I'm taking a vacation day and joining them at Animal Kingdom. I'm looking forward to that. I love to watch the kids enjoy themselves, but I also love to see the animals. I think I'll get up very early and had out to Orland to meet them. The animals go into the shade once the day heats up, and down here that doesn't happens very early.

The Things Kids Think

When I was a kid, I thought that all werewolves came from Pennsylvania. It made sense to me somehow. I mean, hey--all the vampires came from Transylvania, didn't they?

Why, yes, I did get picked on a lot as a kid. Why do you ask?

Launch Delayed, Praying for Saturday

Well, this was an interesting day in Titusville. Tourists streamed in from all over. I take Route 1 from home to work every day. The entrie stretch was already packed with cars, trucks, RVs, campers, and tents this morning at 7:30.

At 11:30 I came home for lunch to get my camera, which I forgot this morning. Deb and I took the back roads because of the traffic on Route 1. The people who lived there all had signs posted for what they would charge people to park in their yards. My own building had a sign at the entrance to the parking lot: $10 to park in a regular spot, $20 to park in a covered spot. I park in a covered spot and was quite glad they weren't charging the residents for their parking for the day. On the way back I took pictures of the crowds and signs.

I was quite depressed when I found out the launch had been delayed again; and so close to final countdown, too. I had been told that we always stop everything and go outside to watch what can be seen whenever a launch happens, and was looking forward to it. One of my co-workers said I would have to stand next to her so she could watch the reactions of the newbie. I laughed. I'm sure I'll be doing the same thing to someone someday.

When I left work tonight, the tourists had almost all left. There were a few hangers on, probably not willing to make the drive back quite so soon. Maybe they'll try to stick around til the next available launch time.

Right now, they're saying the next available launch time is Saturday. Of all the choices, that's the one I like best. On Saturday, I could take a couple of beers/sodas and my camp chair down to the courtyard and watch the whole thing. Several locals have told me this is one of the best places to view it. If it happens Saturday, I'm skipping the Hash and watching the launch. No way I'm missing it!

I want my hour and 31 minutes back.

I am so very glad I didn't pay money at the theater to watch this complete waste of film. Ouch.

I just spen an hour and 31 minutes waiting for a movie to improve. Then the credits came on and the whole thing immediately improved. I actually laughed a little at the out takes.

I'm too embarrassed to even say the name of the movie I just wasted so much time watching. So I won't say it. But I will never look at news anchors the same way. And that's a rotten shame.

I want my time back.

Launch Count-Down

Tomorrow afternoon The space shuttle Discovery is supposed to launch. I COULD watch it from my apartment. But I will be at work covering the phones.

There is nothing I can say, except that I hope other launches will happen before I move away from this fabulous view, and I hope I will be able to come here and see at least one.

Dennis

It’s not over yet. Dennis is just the beginning. It’s pretty rare that a hurricane actually lands here in July, but as usual for me, the unusual has happened again.

I’m not in any real danger here; not this far east of the center. I’m concerned though, for my relatives in the Pan Handle. They haven’t even recovered from being slammed so hard last year (not that Titusville has either), and here comes another disaster pointed straight at them.

So, for them, I hope for the best.

Around here, things may not be as bad as what they’ll get, but I still have had some trouble. I unplugged the PC and the TV, etc. last night. We were having power fluctuations from the high winds coming through. Since I live right on the water, the wind speed is higher here than it is farther inland. The screen on my balcony that faces onto the water got blown down. The three that face south are fine, but I wish the one with the hole in had blown down. Oh, well, I’ll just ask management to patch the hole when they come to re-hang the one that blew down. I did manage to save that one from further damage from pulling completely off the frame before it could get torn. But there’s no way I’m going to be the one on a ladder trying to re-hang the thing over a gaping hole six floors above the ground.

Then the rain, lightning and hail started. I had turned off all the lights in the apartment except the one by the sofa so I could read and watch the storm through the balcony windows. It was a great show from the safety of my apartment. I would not have liked being out in it—especially the wind part.

The rain was pretty cool to watch from my bedroom window when I finally decided to hit the sack. But then something solid, probably a bird, got blown against the building. I looked this morning to see if it was on my balcony, but whatever it was, it was gone.

Oh, well. There’s still plenty of wind today, and it looks as if I may be in for a good bit more rain. But they’ve lifted the tornado watches. I keep checking the water out here on the Indian River Lagoon. The usually calm water has been covered with white caps for the last couple of days. It still is. But the water isn’t rising. It’s just getting blown around a lot.

So, here’s the major storm to really impact this area so far since I’ve been here. I doubt it will happen this way, but I hope it is the worst I have to deal with this year.

Hurricanes and Weathernen

Why is it that weather forecasters always put their descriptions for the conditions required for a storm to become a hurricane in phrases like "favorable"?

Sometimes, when they are talking about their forecasts and they resort to these phrases, I picture them wringing their hands in goulish anticipation of the devastation to come.

Instead of saying "favorable conditions" they should say "threatening conditions." I certainly consider weather elements that make a hurricane more likely to develop more of a threat than a favor. I'm not looking to have my apartment re-distributed all over Central Florida, so I would not consider it a favor if a hurricane came and did that.

And that's all I have to say about that.

July Fourth and Rockets All Around Me

Well, Happy Birthday America. Glad we’re still around.

I have decided that I will have to build myself a giant tree-house to live in when my lease here runs out. And it has to be AT LEAST six stories above ground level. As long as it’s above tree-top level so I can see as much of the sky as I do now.

Now if I could just get all the yahoos around me to take their illegal versions of fireworks somewhere else, the evening would be topped off almost perfectly. Having some company would have been nice, but it's been fun on my own, too.

From my vantage point, I could see no less than 5 displays that seemed to be legal versions—and about the same number that were clearly illegal. The fireworks in my parking lot, at the water’s edge, were very much illegal and way too close to my building. Actually, I should say “are illegal,” since they’re still going full blast, with a capital Blast. It’s about 10 p.m. now, so hopefully they’ll wind down soon.

The poor cats are frantic; so much so that Binks, the tiny panther, ran in terror from the noise, even in the midst of a hunt for Howard’s little sister, Chloe.

The best parts about my view this evening were that I didn’t have crowds all around me, and the air conditioning was only about 4 feet away.

I could critique the various displays, but I don’t see the point. The legal ones were all equally impressive and the illegal ones were all equally annoying. They still are annoying, but the ones in the parking lot are gaining a distinctive edge over all the rest.

Anyway, it has been my tradition over the last few years to watch the Capital Fourth on PBS so I can enjoy some nice music and be away from crowds and watch from the AC. So as usual, I put on the show and watched it exclusively until the sky became dusky. At that point, I stepped out on the balcony to watch the local show with the TV as background music. I could have done without the background music. It did not fill me with endless joy. After a while, I turned it down and stood on the balcony singing “Star Spangled Banner” to myself. It was, in my opinion, much better than the show the Beach Boys put on. Sorry guys; you just didn’t do it for me.

So the real shows are over and I’m now going to wash the dishes from my turkey nachos and get ready for bed. Hope everyone else had a great Fourth of July Weekend!

Hats Off for Howard

My poor baby lizard, Howard, finally underestimated the agility of Mr. Bond, the Danger Cat. I found most of him on the floor this morning, on my way to the balcony for my morning date with the sunrise. I expect I'll find the rest when I clean the litter box. He's been entertaining me for the past three weeks or so. I'll miss him.

Rest in peace, liitle one.

Beach Side Note

Wearing a bra to work was an impossible dream yesterday. It may the same today. Good thing I own a lot of loose fitting clothes for work.

Finally, a Sunny Day in Florida

My keying may be off tonight. I've just finished repainting my nails. Why is that important? Because, today I learned an important lesson about combining nail polish with sport sunscreen. Something in the two mixtures does not mix well together.

After slathering myself thoroughly for a trip to the beach with my friends, Deb, Mike, and Ian, I discovered that my fingernails had become sticky, icky, and quite tacky. My beautiful french tips were now picking up everything I got near, including the print from the newspaper I had been scanning. I had words on my fingernails. Then I had gray smears and fuzz as the print was smeared off when I tried to smooth the blanket covering the sofa. I did what I could, but I had already written off the paint job, deciding to remove the foul pastyness on my return.

In the meantime, I chose to ignore the icky mess and enjoy myself at the beach. This was my very first visit to a beach since I got here. I was very excited about it. Especially since I was off and it was actually sunny out.

So, I packed up a bag of beach supplies: a blanket, a towel, my camp chair, and my insulated lunch bag filled with sodas and water. I put on my bathing suit, covered with shorts and t-shirt, and complimented by a thorough layer of the above-mentioned sport sunscreen. I located my sunglasses, hat, sandals, and keys, and I made a pile of these things while I waited for the gang.

When they arrived I couldn't get out of here fast enough. I can't believe I was so eager to go to a beach, though. Unless I have plenty to keep me occupied, I usually don't care much for hanging around in the sun. But it's June in Florida and there has been an almost constant cloud cover from the daily showers and thunderstorms. Even a bat like me has to come out of the cave every now and then to wince at the sun.

We road the 30 minutes to Cocoa Beach, where I stayed when I came down for my interview. We parked in the free parking garage by Ron Jon surf shop and carried our various gear to the beach which was already filled with tourists, surfers, and various locals. We found a spot very close to the entrance that was relatively uncrowded and set ourselves up.

The very first thing I noticed (once I was finished futzing with my blanket and chair) was the sky, followed closely by the water. I never believed the beautiful blue-green water was real, but it is. And the sky, as I have said before, was brilliant with its menagerie of cloud types. Most of the clouds were very distant, but they had so much sky that they seemed like giant ships cruising through a vast ocean in the air. They were gorgeous. Mike and Ian took pictures for me, and I look forward to seeing them.

I'm not sure how much time we actually spent out there, but it was apparently quite enough for me. In spite of my caution in applying a thick coat of sunscreen (waterproof spf 45), and reapplying while there, I still managed to get burned. I am sitting here, leaning forward while I type, to avoid having my back touch anything firmer than the braless shirt I am now wearing. Work will be interesting tomorrow, I'm sure. At least I don't have to wear pantyhose.

But, I am very glad I made it to the beach. My apartment is on the water, but not on a beach. So it was a special treat for me to see it finally.

And now my nails appear to be dry enough to go figure out what I'm going to wear tomorrow (and how I'll wear a bra) so that I can get ready for bed.

Backing Up

I was looking through some of my recent posts (I know they are all recent--just shut up and listen), and I noticed something very important I left out of the Eagles Play by Play. When I was a teenager, my sister and I would listen to Eagles record albums (on vinyl--big black dinner-plate sized discs if you don't recognize the word) and would challenge each other on who sang which songs. We usually agreed, but occassionally disagreed. But we always had fun with it. And we'd sing Eagles songs constantly while doing dishes together, which made the task go much faster and kept us from arguing over how to do it, since we both had our own way and thought the other should fall in line. We'd always get hung up on the words; especially on "Seven Bridges Road" and "The Last Resort." We'd fuss with each other until dishes were done and then go watch TV and forget all about it until next time.

Anyway, these memories roared through my brain the entire time I watched the concert on TV, and I think they added to the sentiments I was feeling. Even if I didn't truly love their music, I would still have a very strong connection to the band because of those memories.

Things I Love About Florida

Sky.

Knowing what a fool I am for a beautiful sky, there’s no reason to wonder about this first statement—the sky. The sky in Virginia was always very beautiful. The blue was brilliant, the clouds were big, puffy and white, the sunrises and sunsets were bold oranges, pinks, yellows, and purples. In winter the steal gray-blue was a solid, strong color. In Florida, the blue is also brilliant. The sunrises and sunsets are equally moving, but the colors are more pastel—more like quiet feet padding past your bedroom door to keep from startling you, whereas Virginia sunrises and sunsets are more like the pack of happy children who come running and squealing into your room and pounce on you to wake you with kisses, hugs, tickles, and giggles. “We’re here! We’re here! Come out and play!”
June in Florida is very rainy. There is a rain or thunder shower almost every afternoon. If one happened today, I didn’t see it, but then sometimes they are very brief and noninvasive. I love two things about these showers—not the humidity, and not the getting all wet part. I love the sky (again) and seeing the rain come across the water from my river view balcony.
I was a little distracted on my way home tonight because I was watching the amazing cloud formations that completely surrounded my area for miles. Actually, they still surround the area, though my view is blocked by my apartment, but I can still see what’s out there to the South. It’s beautiful, even at 8:30 in the evening. The reason it’s so beautiful to me is this: the cloud formations are so varied that it looks like an artist took a giant pallet and practiced every single type of cloud ever seen by anyone. This artist mingled them together so craftily that no one could possibly refute the ability of the hand that painted it all. There is shadow and light, shape and texture. Big white puffballs; Horse Tails; Thunder Heads; sweeping “Sky Mountains…” They’re all out there at the same time, and they play against each other beautifully.
The rain on the water is a special thing for me. I love to sit on the balcony and watch it approach across the-lagoon-that’s-called-a-river. It feels like someone is moving a blanket of coolness across me so I’ll sleep more comfortably. (If you weren’t paying attention, that’s the second reference to sleep—don’t worry, clarity will come.)
The size of the sky is just amazing. Really, it’s no bigger than it is everywhere else in the world. I think it’s just that there are fewer interruptions to the view. There are not very many tall buildings in this area, and the land is pretty flat, so more of the sky is visible. It gives me feeling of space that I enjoy a great deal.

Howard.

Howard is the tiny lizard who lives on my balcony and sometimes comes in the house to check things out. His body is only as long as 2/3 of my pinky. His tail makes him the length of my pinky plus 1/3. My pinky is a big fat cow sitting next to him because his little body is so lean. His head is smaller than 1/2 the size of my pinky nail. He comes in sometimes and mashes bugs in my kitchen. I like this—I hate cockroaches as much as I hate spiders; actually, spiders are fine as long as I don’t see them. They don’t crawl into my favorite cereal box or walk around in my coffee pot. At least, I don’t see them doing it. Anyway, back to Howard.
I gave him the name Howard because, to me, “Howard” is the kind of name you would give a fragile-looking young boy who is nerdy, scrawny, has braces and coke-bottle glasses. That little boy, if he is as brilliant as his nerdy demeanor suggests, will grow up to be the President/CEO/Mastermind behind a major software company, or some similar vocation. Either way, he makes good and his size, visual abilities, and crooked teeth are no barrier to the life of which he dreams.
My Howard is like that. As tiny and frail as he seems, he is very industrious and energetic in his obsession with teasing Binks and Mr. Bond by running across the wall in front of them. He seems to have figured out Bond’s height limit for jumping up the wall. I hope he is always as careful and lucky as he has been so far. I really like seeing him.

Sleep.

Here’s the clarity. Somehow, with the exception of last week when my bed was a sheet swamp full of cat fur, I have slept very well. So well, that I haven’t needed a full eight hours as in the past. Most nights I wake up in the same position I as when I fell asleep. I usually feel refreshed and ready to get moving…after I feed the fur-bellies, of course. I hardly ever wake up to find I’ve been fighting the aliens all night. Sometimes I do have to pick my pillows up from across the room, but it has nothing to do with aliens, real or dreamed. I occasionally have to throw pillows across the room at the cats to get them to stop fighting in the middle of the night. But, then I go back to sleep and everything’s fine in the morning.

My Commute.

The short route to work is 4.8 miles. The long route is 5.2 miles. Traffic is more than six cars at a light at the same time. I really like that.
Oh yeah, and there's water on my left almost the whole way there.

Humidity CURED

Hallelujah! Hosana Hey! I have cold air coursing through my apartment! It is a miracle of miracles!

Or was it the 10 calls to the management office this morning? Nah, I only made 2 calls before she finally called me back and explained the situation. Apparently there are about 20 apartments AT THIS SITE that had AC problems and other such things happen this week. Odd, considering it was just an old part, but OK. And other sites owned by this management company had other issues going on at the same time. So, when she told me originally that she would open a work order for me, the odd face she made REALLY meant "Oh My God, not another one!" I had originally translated it as "Oh My God, she must be from up North and can't take a little heat!"

Glad to know I was wrong on that. And also glad she took pity on me and bumped me up to the top 5 in the list. So when I came home from work today and opened my door, I was greeted by 2 hungry cats and one GLORIOUSLY COOL AND COMFY APARTMENT. The cats didn't let me stop and enjoy the air until they had food in their dishes, but I soon stripped off shoes and socks and let my feet feel the cool floor. What a nice feeling.

I can tell I'm going to have a hard time when the hurricanes come and bang up the electric, but at least now I know I'll survive the event as long as I can take cold showers about every 2 hours or so... :)

Off to enjoy my air some more. Think I will crank it for just tonight before I turn it down to a modest 74. It's only fair; I've been sweating my rather large rump off for days (with no positive effect, I might add).

Ta!

Humidity Cubed

So now it's the 16th. I came home on the evening of the 13th. I haven't had AC this whole time. This is an area where patience is no longer a virtue; it is idiotic. I have called the building management and left them messages, and I have called the emergency maintenance number and left pages. No one has bothered to contact me in reference to this situation.

My cats are wilted. I am wilted. The cats clearly want to play, but being completely inside cats, they are not accustomed to this heat and humidity, so they are not doing anything but lying around and staring at me with questioning eyes. The eyes ask me questions like, "Why haven't you fixed this yet?" I have things that need doing in my apartment, but I can't because it's a freakin' sauna. I sweat sitting perfectly still.

To add to this dilemma, there is another Thunderstorm Warning. Last night's thunderstorm sent rain flying into the balcony. You may remember that my "temporary" rig was a large fan placed in front of the AC unit--on the balcony. Yep, rain in the fan. Not my idea of a safe alternative. I turned off the AC and brought the fan into the house. Then I moved it everywhere I went. It's a big fan.

I took it to my room at bedtime, opened the windows wide, and put it on full blast, just like before. The rain did not come through the window, so this worked alright without being an electrical hazard. The other thing that helped was the very cold shower I stood in for about 10 minutes right before I went to bed.

It's not very helpful in the morning, though. The cool air doesn't reach the bathroom, so even after rinsing in cold for 5 minutes at the end of my shower, I come out dripping sweat along with shower water. Drying off only lasts as long as it takes for the towel to pass over a section of skin. I haven't done my hair or put on makeup since I came back. There's no point. My hair is frizzed before I finish combing it and my makeup runs right off my face from sweat before I finish applying it. I find it very irritating.

So, now, while I'm waiting in vane for a call from the maintenance folks, I'm watching Disney's "The Sword in the Stone" (again) and enjoying a nice glass of wine. I'm not doing laundry, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not cleaning up my cluttery, messy apartment, because I'm hot and sweaty. I'm not playing or cuddling with my cats, because we're all three hot and sweaty. So, I'll drink my wine and watch my movie and study the new information I got at work today.

And tomorrow, I'll call the flippin' management office every ten minutes until they do something about this. Don't get me wrong--I understand there may be other things going on, but I was promised the guy would be back the next day. He could at least call me and tell me he's not coming, and why. And I know that I am in hurricane season down here, and I could lose my AC for even longer. But there hasn't been a hurricane in my town. I am the only person I know of, in this building, whose AC had some part burn out. No one else around me is complaining about any such problems. SO FIX MY FRICKIN' AC!