Wednesday, April 25, 2007


snippets of conversations

a) The tattoo expert.
me: yeah, I mean, the tattoo looks a little it's not dry yet.
e: yeah, that's because of the stuff I put on it to help it heal. It's called neosporin.

b) A bit too proud of myself.
me: Jay. I've never smoked a cigarette in. my. life.
Jay: You want me to give you a cookie or something?


It's 2:30. Do you know where your child is?

I was supposed to pick up E at the airport tonight—her flight was scheduled to arrive at 1:15 a.m. In preparation for this late night voyage, I drank two "grande" iced green teas, and three delightful glasses of Pepsi.

Well, she called me around 8 p.m. to let me know that her flight was canceled due to tornadoes. While quite pleased that I wouldn't have to drive to BWI, now I'm suffering the consequences of infusing my veins with caffeine. Sleep....sleeep....need sleep.

I was kind of tossing and turning and drifting in and out of paranoid mouse dreams (update: this evening we caught the one that was making a mockery of us in the living room + kitchen), when I heard these voices coming from outside. It sounded like some drunk girls stumbling back from the bar, which is totally fine by me...I just wanted them to keep it down a notch. And I heard honking, which is obnoxious, and didn't seem to fit with the scene. And giggling that kept going on.

So, channeling my inner old lady, I crept to the window, and parted the cheap-o blinds. Although I didn't have my glasses on, the obnoxious teenage girls looked...smaller than I expected. Like, little kid-like. I pressed my face closer to the screen, and confirmed that the culprits were definitely prepubescent boys.

The ring leader, the one who sounds like a drunk teenage girl (hardy har har, punk. take that.), stopped at a car, and did something. And then he walked a bit further, and did something else to another car.

This was ridiculous. I couldn't tell what he was doing (no sounds of broken glass, so that's a plus), but I raised my melodious voice in protest nonetheless. I shouted, "HEY! KNOCK IT OFF!"—the two little henchmen scattered, but the ringleader cackled, and according to C-note, who came into my bedroom a moment later, said "no!"

C-note has to get up at 5:30. C-note, therefore, means business. And since I'm all about helping the oppressed and whatnot, I called the guardhouse and ordered the troops to descend upon our little neck of the woods.

I don't know if the people got the perps—well, they probably didn't, because I saw one guard guy wandering around the parking lot in completely the wrong place—but I'm glad that I aided and abetted justice/tattled. Clearly these kids aren't being tattled on enough.

In my caffeine-addled mind, I'm tempted to go down to one of the cars that they messed with, but I don't want to get framed with the crime. Or something. Maybe if I get up early enough tomorrow, I'll casually stroll by and check it out...

Monday, April 23, 2007


well, that was temporary

The past few days I've been feeling very grown-up. Like, an actual adult. I'm not sure why that's possibly because I've had E's car for the weekend, so I've been able to drive around, and not walk. Driving is directly correlated to adulthood in my "never owned a car" mind.

Also, I've been slapping on night moisturizer and eye cream at night in order to attempt to slow down damage. I think crow's feet are kinda cute, but knowing that I'll have crow's feet for the rest of my life (once they show up in an undeniably present way), helps me to attempt to delay the onset. Night "restorative" moisturizer has a way of making one feel adult.

Plus, I went grocery shopping this weekend. I had checked out a few recipes beforehand, so I zipped around the store, plopping lemons, spinach, grapes, mint, etc. in my cart. All these healthy ingredients left me feeling incredibly smug. It's just that I'm so accustomed to frequenting the frozen food aisle, and skulking around feeling like an unhealthy loser, that I was practically glowing as I strolled up and down the aisles with my made-from-scratch-able ingredients.

Further increasing my grown-up quotient, I have my first adult wedding this weekend. Mel and Pat are tying the knot, and I get to go! Hurray! It will be my first wedding in 15, I'm quite excited. Last time I stepped on the bride's train during the conga line and burst into tears. Let's hope that doesn't happen again.

Oh, and last week I went on my first trip (ever, I think?) without an adult chaperone. Hot damn.

All of this is to say that my coolness grown-up adult feeling pretty much vanished when a) I called my pocketbook a "praga" bag, and not a "prada" bag when I was joking around with a random guy (smooooth), and b) I found out that a guy I went to high school with is married and running for school committee.

Not that losing the grown-up feeling is a bad thing. I was just surprised that I ever had it.

Saturday, April 21, 2007


hiatus what?

Let's put this out there right now: we have a freaking mouse in our apartment. J and C-note discovered it this past Wednesday, when we were watching Lost. I heard the two of them whispering, but didn't pay attention, since I was watching activity that I devote my full attention to (really. don't talk to me when I'm watching TV). They then got up, and each took a side of the kitchen, and began peering around. That was slightly suspicious behavior, but C-note has a hamster, so I was hoping that it was on the loose (how kind of me).

C-note revealed what J thought he saw...we kinda half-heartedly craned our necks around, but didn't see anything. We didn't want to see anything, obviously, and I was willing to make that happen. But only a few minutes later, we heard some enthusiastic crunching coming from the area of the dining room heater.

J took the flashlight that C-note had retrieved, and he shined it under the heater. Nothing.

(At this point, I was thrilled that J was around, because usually I hold the position of bug-squasher and brave person. His presence allowed me to cower on the couch and whine pitiably.)

But then. A mouse. A little mouse, almost sorta cute, if one liked rodents (which I do. not.), but a mouse nonetheless. Realizing that he had been spied, he climbed up into the heater, out of sight.

After a beat, he made another showing...climbing down, grabbing his nice pretzel that he had been dining upon, and pulled it back up into his hiding spot. How resourceful of him.

The next day E or C-note contacted our complex's exterminator. When we came back from work Friday evening, we noticed that the oven had been moved. On top of it, a slip of yellow paper was resting, that read:

The Exterminator Was Here On:
4-20 Have a Fun One

Um, alright. See, the fun of my 4-20 was dependent upon knowing that our little houseguest had departed for the hereafter. The mysterious Jose also left two blank yellow that so we can fill them out and leave prank exterminator cards at various apartments?

All of this is to say that a few moments ago, I was blissfully reclining on the couch watching highly entertaining episodes of Season One of Boston Legal, and I'm fairly certain that I saw a mouse tail disappear under the seat cushion, merely inches from my face. I saw from the corner of my eye, so I can't be certain. But since my hair was cut rather short yesterday, I'm fairly certain that my hair was not the thin strand of brown sliding along.

I didn't see the rotten thing when I moved the seat cushions 10 seconds later.

Ick. Please, please let that little episode have been a product of my paranoid imagination.

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