Happy Halloween!

Last night was "beggar's night" in my little part of the world. For anybody unfamiliar with that....it's basically Halloween trick-or-treating done on the night before Halloween. I don't know why. Don't ask.

I live in a townhouse complex where people seldom turn on their porch lights to celebrate and kids rarely venture into. I'm happy with both of these. I didn't even buy candy for little beggars. However, to make sure I don't get any visitors, I pretty much turned off every light except of course the laptop and TV. Last night as I was getting my dinner ready (during the prescribed Beggar's Night hours of 6-8 p.m.) when I heard this growing noise coming closer outside. Was it? Could it be? Yes, a hoard. A regular sea of kids between the ages of 10 and 16 swarmed onto my "street."

Now, it was clear this flock of beggars were together and probably from the nearby neighborhood, because none of them were dressed up and all had bags for their loot. One group went up to a home that had lights on (but no porch light inviting such attention), the poor lady opened the door and clearly rejected the group saying she had no candy. Then as they roamed seemingly undaunted into the street again (knocking over her grill in the process) another group went up and did the same thing. At this point I noticed a couple of boys (on the older end of the swarm's age spectrum) loitering near another neighbor's door where a pumpkin was sitting out. The boys moved in closer and then noticed a fairly large black dog staring them down through the glass panels next to the door. They paused and then wandered back out into the street and headed out with the mob toward the next unsuspecting part of the neighborhood.

But then I noticed one brave teen make his decision. I could tell exactly what he was about to do and weighed my options. I could open the window and yell or I could watch silently. I decided to just watch...as this young criminal mastermind in the white hooded sweatshirt put his hood up over his head and sauntered bravely toward the door with the dog. He paused again to check for people inside and then dove for the pumpkin and made a mad dash away. He ran like he'd just stolen something worth more than $3.99. I laughed thinking about how cool he thought he was at that moment and how he thought nobody saw him. Heh.

I'm thinking next year I'll put a rotten pumpkin on my front porch for potential hoodlums to grab. That'll really be fun to watch.

Cellphone Panic

Yesterday I forgot my cellphone at home. I remembered it as I'd just driven away, but figured I could deal with not having it by my side for one day. It's just a phone. I don't even like talking on the phone. So would it really matter?

In a nutshell....yes.

As my day passed I became more and more anxious that I was missing important phone calls. Surely I was getting called about my recent job interview or my sister needed me to babysit or there was an emergency or I'd need to call someone and not have their number or SOMETHING!!!! I even called it twice to check for voicemail messages.

All of this is ridiculous behavior. I have a phone at work that everybody knows the number to and I have email at work that I'm constantly on (a better source to reach me than the phone even). But I was absolutely dismayed at not having this object at my side.

I left work 15 minutes early yesterday. I told myself it was because I couldn't stand another second at work...but I think part of it was to get back to my phone as soon as possible.

Did I miss any calls? No. The only calls were me calling to check my voicemail. And how sad is that?

Did you lose a pair of scissors?

Last week I was sitting at a stoplight on my way to work, waiting for a chance to make a left turn. I glanced out my window and noticed a pair of scissors laying on the cement median separating the the northbound and southbound traffic. I thought, "What an odd place for these scissors. How did they get here?" Then I had the chance to make my left turn and get back on my "merry" way to work.

Every day since then I check for those scissors and of course they're still there. Who's going to pick them up? But the question still lingers...why are there scissors there? Did someone throw them out of a vehicle in an attempt at a drive-by scissoring? Was someone doing some sewing on the back of a flat-bed truck one day when the truck hit a bump and the scissors flew out of their hands and onto that median? Why are they there?! How long have they been there?!

So many questions come to mind over that pair of scissors and it's become a little daily obsession of mine to check for them and then make up a story about why they're there. As you can see, my stories are not plausible...but they entertain morning me on my journey to work.

And so if anybody urgently needs a piece of paper cut and you don't want to actually purchase a pair of scissors, just hop out at the corner of 63rd and Ashworth and you're all set. But then put them back for the next person.

The ultimate bad mood

I'm in a bad mood. I mean...really bad. I don't want to talk to anybody or do anything other than crawl back under the covers and avoid contact with every person on the planet. My black mood started yesterday afternoon and it hasn't seemed to do anything but get worse. I think "black mood" is actually putting it lightly.

I figured perhaps blogging will help me determine it's cause or at least allow me to explain any silence on my behalf of those who might read my blog.

At work, this is wearing on me. I have to feign interest, niceness, and general decency. I want to tell everybody to go to hell. I want to tell them to take this job and....well you know. I'm not going to be cliche or funny as that's not my will right now.

Things that contribute what I'm dwelling on to contribute to this mood? This job, my lack of a man in my life, my lack of children, my age, my fat, my laziness, my gluttony, my job, not hearing about the job I interviewed for, seeing everybody else happy, seeing people not happy, wishing I wasn't so selfish, wishing I wasn't wasting my life, wanting to do something, not knowing what to do, and so on.

For anybody thinking this might be due to a monthly hormone influx...it's not. It's just all kinds of stupid crap piling up and because I don't really do anything but just stew internally about all of it, it's becoming like a swath gloom enveloping my inner self.

Anyway...that being written....and me not feeling a bit better, I guess it's time to publish this. Hope I didn't pass this mood on. I just needed to put it out there.

(I purposely removed the ability to comment on this post. I don't want comments or sympathy or words of anything. I just wanted to "talk".)

Funny and Familiar

What's her name?

I think I've heard this question about a gabillion times in the past two weeks. And...along with that question comes a flubillion suggestions. Now, I appreciate everybody's help, but I really wanted to test out names in my head that go with my little angel/devil kitten's persona. I've gone through several naming attempts as I'll call her that a few times and see what sticks.

Earlier this week I was calling her Sylvie for her coloring. Yesterday I though of Spazzle (because she's a bit of a spaz). Last night I started calling her Kady. Not really sure why, I just liked it. I'm still a bit hesitant to deem that the winner. I just feel like there's still one I haven't thought of yet.

So for all you wondering out there what her name is....call her Kady for now, but know that I'll probably change it again tonight.

Oh and if anybody is stuck on my use of the word flubillion and wondering just exactly how big that is...it's: gabillion x pi

:)

Weird Elevator Conversation

Yesterday as I was heading out of the office I took my usual super-slow trip in the elevator. I've never been in an elevator that moves so slow.

Anyway...I got on the elevator and a gentleman gets on behind me. Now, I've never met, nor even seen this chap before. As the doors to the elevator closed, he turned toward me, leaned back on the elevator wall and said, "I can't quite decide what to call that color." I looked up at him and then figured out he was talking about my sweater, so I looked down at my sweater. Then as I looked back up at him the following thoughts went through my head:

• He's not serious.
• He's chatty.
• He's color blind?
• He's flirting?

As I leveled my gaze upon him I decided on the following response. "Red." The sweater is red. And that's it. It's just red. There's really no question about it's redness. So then he says, "I was thinking more Burnt Orange." And, mind you, he seemed serious. So here's when I decided to give in a little and say..."OK...let's call it faded red."

I'd had a long day and was not on my game. But...I think he actually was trying to flirt. Not sure why he'd want to or why he'd pick something as dumb as my shirt color (that was clearly red).

I decided to chat a bit more with him on the way out to the parking lot, but that was it. I think I may have offended him in my non-banter about the red sweater. Hopefully next time we're in the elevator and I'm wearing a primary color the debate can be a little more lively.

Kitten for sale

Just kidding.

She is a bit rambunctious to say the least. She's a talker and she also LOVES to try to kiss my mouth. Gross. I'm trying to teach her to not do that without absolutely alienating her. And since this is a problem, she won't be sleeping in my room anytime soon. I don't want to wake up with a kitten on my mouth.

Paris is slowly warming to her. For example, all morning she watched her from a distance and growled or hissed if she came close. Just a few minutes ago they came nose-to-nose without a hiss or growl from either. I think Paris wants to play with her...but she's still being cautious. New Kitten still doesn't have a name. Lots of options though. She loves to play with her toys and carry them around the room (when she's not trying to get in my face, that is).

Well, looks like the ball of energy is going to sit down and rest....in Paris' favorite spot naturally. Or maybe she just wants to chase her tail. Who knows.

Happy Birthday to Me!

It's my birthday. My 35th. Ugh. I took this week off from work. I do this every year. I'd rather not be at work on my birthday. I'd rather do whatever I want. And work is not that.

So what have I done today? I slept until 7 a.m. (sleeping in for me). Then after watching a little TV, I decided to go renew my driver's license. Ugh again. My previous two pictures have been decent. No such luck this time. The "photographer" caught me on my way to smiling, so I look kinda funny. Anyway...it's not like many people see it.

Next stop... Animal Rescue League. I've been wanting to get another cat to be company for my current cat, Paris. I wanted to get her a kitten as I thought she'd accept a kitten better. Today was the day. I found a cute little 10 week old kitten. She's super sweet. She stuck her paw out at me when I stood in front of her cage. She completely stood out among her brothers. So...after some wavering....(I wanted an orange kitten)...I decided to take her to the visitation room. She purred and snuggled and purred some more. Yep. She's mine. So after a quick mound of paper work (felt like I was buying a house, not adopting a cat) and a trip to the vet, we drove home. She...didn't like the trip. Meowed like somebody was cutting her tail off. Then she threw up. Thank goodness for that paper box they put her in.

Finally we pulled into my garage. I took her out of the car and into the house to meet her new best friend. I walked cautiously toward Paris with the new kitten and was promptly met with double hisses. OK. Not the best first meeting. So...I decided to back off and let them meet on their own terms. They're pretty much spending time as far apart as possible and when they meet, hissing and growling ensues.

I'm sure after some time they'll be the best of buds. Right now though, Paris is stationed on the stairs. And that's appropriate as all she does is stare at the new kitten. The new kitten who's made herself right at home in Paris' favorite cuddle up spot. D'oh!

Now...if I could just figure out a name....