Oops!

You know, I read somewhere, probably Susie's site, that Friday was supposed to be no-pants day. Well, I'm usually a little out of step with the times. I'm used to it. I know I'm not cool.

So, the next time I went to the Ladies' room I realized that, of course, I WAS wearing pants. But, shit, I had my underwear on inside out. I gotta quit getting dressed in the dark.

It's My Party!

Yes, tomorrow is my birthday. Tonight Ichabod is taking me to dinner then to the opera. I'm not sure where we're eating yet. Might be seafood, or I might actually ask to go to a nice steak place. I don't eat beef very often so we'll see. I don't know any of the music from Die Fledermaus, either. I do know that it's by Strauss and I'll have a great time regardless.

I'm Just Wild About Harry

Okay everybody, here's where the real geeky nerd comes out in me. It's less than three months to the release of book six of the Harry Potter series. It's called Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince. I know they're supposed to be written for kids but I know plenty of adults who are avid fans. Some of us might even be rabid fans.

When it comes out I will go to store and pick up my reserved copy. No, I'm not that nuts to go at midnight with all the kids. I will go home and do nothing but read and eat the rest of the day. I will probably finish it before I go to bed. The last one was about 900 pages. I didn't get it delivered until almost noon. By the time I was over 700 pages into it I couldn't see straight anymore and had to put the thing down until morning.

There it is for the world (blog-world anyway) to see. I'm a geeky Harry Potter fan. So don't expect a post or comments from me on July 16th. J. K. Rowling and Harry Potter will have my full attention.

Spanky and His Gang

Ichabod and I used to live by the lakeshore here in Michigan. It was a nice house, but the railroad track ran right through the yard. It was 25 feet from the front corner of the house. The house was in a neighborhood that used to be a more poor section. This town doesn’t have a “bad” section. I felt safe walking there any time of the day or night by myself. By the time that we moved there the neighborhood was getting be much nicer.

Anyway, just up the tracks from our house was a teeny little house that wasn’t even on the road. You had to drive up beside the tracks to get to it. Not that most of the people who ever lived there had cars. It probably used to be some building for the railroad.

Our first neighbor there was a woman who was very heavy and had bad health problems. Not really sure what happened but she moved suddenly. Maybe because of her health.

After a (blessed) period of vacancy Spanky moved in. His name was Kenny but he introduced himself as Spanky. He was in his forties, had a very gruff voice, and had probably been in prison at one time or another.

He didn’t have a car and must have walked to his second shift job. The loonies and drunks from around the neighborhood would hang out there all weekend. I really mean all weekend. They would sit in his yard all day and all night drinking beer and discussing life. That part we could handle.

One night, though, when he came home from his second shift job on a warm summer night, he started blasting his music. We didn’t have air conditioning and had our window open. It was after eleven o’clock at night.

Well, we fumed and waited, hoping he’d turn it down. Ichabod is usually a pretty cool, calm, rational guy. However by this time he was livid. He went over and pounded on Spanky’s door. Ichabod told him to be quiet. Spanky was drunk and didn’t take too well to being yelled at to turn down his music. Not only was he not going to turn it down, he was going to turn it up.

Ichabod came home and called the police. They came fairly soon, not much crime here, remember? We could hear Spanky telling them to come on in, they wouldn’t find any drugs. They finally got him to turn off the music.
After the cops left, Spanky came out in the yard. He was yelling that this was war and we’d never sleep again. The next time we saw him (it was daylight) he apologized and said he wasn’t really such a bad guy. Except that he kept doing and we had to keep calling the police. Thank goodness he finally moved, too. Marty moved in after that but that’s a whole ‘nother story.

The Lady in Red

Last Friday night Ichabod and I decided to go out to dinner. Living downtown gives us quite a few choices. We chose one that was a little bit of a hike, but they have the BEST rosemary chicken dinner in town.

It was early and there weren't many patrons in yet. It seemed odd that they put us at a small table when it looked so slow. I didn't realize that they had most of the tables put together to make three long tables.

Just before our meal arrived all these teenagers starting coming in. I took a look at their formal dress and realized that one of the local schools must be having prom night. Our service level dropped right after that. I've waited tables so I understood why. The waitstaff was running its collective ass off!

It was kinda fun watching the kids. The girls kept rearranging their wrist corsages, so cute. But the funniest part was that in the midst of the pastel and white dresses there was one that caught my eye. This girl was wearing a red, spangled dress. She really stood out in that crowd. Made me wonder about her personality and what she'll be doing with the rest of her life. She won't be the ordinary one in the crowd.

Could you turn that up a little, please?

I've mentioned in here before how Ichabod knows how to make me really, really angry. It's always over stupid stuff, too. That man!

We were living in the downstairs apartment of an old nineteenth century home. It was originally built for one family and the wood floors gave absolutely no soundproofing between our apartment and the one above.

Apartment living is hard for me sometimes because when I want quiet, I want quiet. When I want to make noise I don’t want to bother anyone else. This apartment was so wrong in all those ways.

Because it had been a single-family home one of the bedrooms was directly above our living room. I tried to keep the TV quiet. Sometimes I would even use headphones early in the morning as the guy upstairs worked a late shift.

My DVD player had a problem with volume. Sometimes the volume would start to drop and I’d have to keep turning it up to hear it. This particular time I had the volume all the way to the max.

All of a sudden the sound came back full blast. I tried to mute it and then drop the volume, which didn’t work. I was slowly getting the volume back down when Ichabod shouted, “Why don’t you turn it up? I can’t hear it.”

I was so pissed. I went over to where he was sitting. All I could think to do was hit him in the knee with the remote control. Picture this: I was standing in front of him with my knees bent, arms bent at the elbow, bending up and down at the waist, almost hitting him on the knee with the remote and yelling, “Shut up! Shut up! Just. Shut. Up!!!!!”

At the time even I knew how stupid it was. He was laughing his ass off at me. After about a half hour I was laughing too. In fact, it still cracks me up.

Habemus Papa!

We have a Pope! They think that old German Cardinal is pope. Little do they know that we finally have a woman pope. Maybe we've had women popes before, but nobody's talkin'. I think this woman pope could make some of the changes the church has needed for a while.

Sorry for the steal, Bucky. I just didn't think it could be said enough. I'm waiting for my blessing now from good Pope Jess.

Update:Family Time

Had a great time this weekend when family came to visit. The only thing that would have made it better was if Bucky could've made it. But then don't we all want Bucky at our party? I'm working on a couple of other stories, just not ready yet. Darn, I need to learn how to get pictures in here. They're a good stall while you're coming up with your next post. :-)

Bungle in the Jungle

Back when I used to work at the bar, you know the one where the guy asked for the pickled bologna, I also lived in an inexpensive furnished apartment. It was an old place on the West side of town. Wasn't a rich section but walking around during the day was perfectly safe.

There were a number of colorful neighbors in the four apartments. One of them worked as a waitress in the restaurant our landlord (should I say slumlord?) owned. She also collected the rent for him. She was a nice enough lady, but quite a character. The landlord’s nickname for her was Jungle Jane. She had flaming red hair and dressed “a little young for her age.”

I didn’t always know how to take her. For instance, she knew I grew up Catholic, so she was always saying to me, “You can’t tell me nuns don’t get none.” I lent her an album once and she found one song on there that she liked. She kept playing it over and over again. For those of you old enough to remember vinyl records you know that sound from trying, badly, to pick up the needle and get it back on the song. I never asked for that record back.

We shared a wall with her. Whenever she was mad she would throw glasses against that wall. She got mad a lot. I really don’t think she was all there. She was also the type to open the door a crack and snoop when people would talk in the hallway.

The adventures of Jungle Jane ended, for us anyway, when she finally found a guy who’d marry her. I don’t know what he saw in her. After he’d been dating her for a while he began to have that “deer in the headlights” look. I think he might have been afraid to end it.

Anyway, we never heard anything about her after she left. I still wonder……

Family Time

Got my new Dell Latitude. I love it. Don't know how much I'll be posting this week as there is out-of-town family in town. Wish Bucky could be here, too. Anyway, I started a writing about a woman who used to be my neighbor. She was such a character and everybody got a good laugh at her expense, but I just couldn't bring the thing to a good conclusion.

One of these days I'll figure it out and tell you all the story of Jungle Jane. Until, then, it's family time!

AAARRRGGHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

I tried to put a post out last night and Blogger ate it. So I went to a movie. Then when I came back I couldn't get my laptop to play nice with the network.

Last night's post was that I'm getting a different laptop at work. I've wanted a Dell Latitude D610 for a while. I'm supposed to have my tech buddy finish loading it while I'm in a mandatory class this morning. Maybe this will be the end of my network woes.

Dudes, I'm getting a Dell!

New Laptop

Well, I'm getting a new laptop at work tomorrow. I've been wanting a Dell Latitude D610 for a while now. I just hope that it all works well. If not, I'll have to wait until I get home to check blogs. That would be a tragedy.

Dude, I'm gettin' a Dell.

A Brainy Idea

Ichabod was a curious child. When he was four he had a girlfriend. They explored the differences in gender by watching each other pee. I don't know what she thought when she saw him go, but he was absolutely amazed that she could pee out of her butt!

I like this story. I love this story. Kids are so cute. But my most favorite part of the whole thing was their secret phrase to go hide and pee. Whoever thought of it first would say to the other "Hey, I've got a brainy idea!"

Non-Smoking Section?

No internet last night. Sounds like the outage covered a large part of Michigan. I couldn't post, I couldn't comment, I couldn't even see what movies were on TV. It sucked! But, yay, it's working again. It seems that between Blogger and Comcast we have to work pretty hard to get a post out.

I was thinking about telling about the life of living in downtown GR. I used to live in a small touristy kind of town on Lake Michigan. There used to be homeless people years ago in town ( back in the non-Politically Correct days they were hoboes). They were gone by the time I was in town.

That was a lead-up to saying that I'm not used to having homeless people hanging out around my apartment building. We leave our cans and bottles out in the parking lot so they can get the returns and quite often pass out change when we pass them on the street. I feel pretty safe around them when Ichabod's with me.

One morning I was going out to my car in the parking lot out back. I leave at 6:30 in the morning and most of the year it's dark at that time. As I headed to my car a tall, slim figure approached me. I couldn't understand a thing he said.

The noise coming at me sounded like, "Di, du, ip, eh, ih, oh, cigarette?" I felt both scared of him and sorry for him. Ichabod was still in bed but could have heard me if I'd yelled. But he's thirty-three steps upstairs. The man was having such a horrible time trying to talk. It was painful listening to him try to get that out. I decided all he wanted was a cigarette.

I said to him, "I don't smoke, I don't have a cigarette. I'm sorry."

He looked at me and said, "Yeah, me too!"

Go for a ride?

Then last night I was out checking for birds again. Saw my first blue heron of the season. I usually take back roads that lead to the river. Obviously a good place to see birds, deer, woodchucks, etc.

One of those roads leads to a boat launch. Just as I was driving away from the turn-around at the end and started heading back I saw a small, older station wagon heading my way.

There looked to be a carload of good old boys in there. Didn't think much of it, plenty of them around, until I got almost even with the car. In the back seat on the driver's side the window was open half-way. There was a very tall teenage boy sitting with his face, from the nose up, sticking out the window as far as he could get it. It looked like when dog owners put the window down a crack so the dog can't really get its nose all the way out. I hope the boy got some good smells to satisfy him. I didn't stop to ask.

The Birds - Not by Alfred Hitchcock

I need to learn how to put photos in here. That's what everyone else does either when Blogger is acting up, or they don't have a cool story ready.

I was trying to think what to put in here next. I asked my guy. He knows I'm a bird watcher. Right now is the coolest time as birds are migrating. We've had gulls, starlings, chickadees, lots of neat birds, but I've been ready for a change.

The turkey vultures are coming back. Robins are here. A little side note. The robin really should be the state bird of Michigan. The suckers always go South for the winter. :-)

Just a few weeks ago I got to see a turkey making the big fan with his tail and doing his cool little strut. I was impressed. But the big thing recently for me was to see the sandhill cranes. They are really tall wading birds and are just gorgeous.

Anyway, I had just IM'd my sweetie asking him what he thought I should blog about today. He asked why I didn't tell about the sandhill cranes. I thought, yeah, that's cool. Then he told me to say why they're special to me. That sounded weird coming from him. Then he said, "Tell how they make you feel deep inside when you see one." Little fucking shit.

Who Nose?

About twelve years ago I was waitressing in a little restaurant in the small village of Nunica. It wasn’t a high-class place, but it was one of only two restaurants in the whole village. It was a second job. If you worked enough hours you could make enough tips to make it worth your while.

Anyway, it was almost closing time one evening. The lights in there were never bright at night. I was clearing tables, in a bit of hurry, hoping to get home soon. I guess I moved a little too quickly for my own good.

As I bent over to pick up a tray of dishes and glasses I had a very uncomfortable feeling in my nose. As I straightened up from the tray I realized I had one of those long, skinny bar-type straws stuck up tight in there. I pulled it out as fast as I could. First, it was embarrassing. Then, eeeewwwww, that had been in someone’s mouth!

To this day I thank God that I never contracted any horrible nostril disease.

Havin' a Ball

I love a good joke. But I despise practical jokes, especially when they're played on me. Don't get me wrong, I have a playful side but some things just make me see red.

Snowballs are not funny. I live in Michigan where there is plenty of snow for about half the year. Not being the athletic type, in the least, I try to stay away from snowball fights.

Well, Ichabod, my guy, thinks snow and snowballs are loads of fun. He used to dump them on me while I was in the shower. This made me mad, but at least they would go down the drain and I could warm up right away under the hot water.

Then he got the funny (oh, ha ha) idea to go out on the deck and make a snowball. The deck was right off the living room where I was sitting on the leather couch. I didn't know what he was doing as I had my face buried in a book as usual. All of a sudden something came flying at me. My first reaction was to put my arm up to block it. Of course it was a snowball. Of course when it hit my arm it burst into many little bits of snow all over the couch, carpet, books, me, etc. I'm not usually violent, but this time I saw red. Ichabod's a pretty muscled kind of guy, fairly tough. But I ran over and punched him hard on his upper arm. Thank goodness he's not the type to hit back. It still made his arm hurt for a while.

You'd think he'd have learned his lesson. Oh no. Last month we went over to the Boston area to visit my aunt and uncle. We were leaving a museum in Salem and were heading back to their van. It was a snowy sidewalk, not shoveled well enough for two people to walk side by side. So it didn't seem weird to me that Ichabod wasn't beside me. All of a sudden (deja vu all over again) something hit me in my low back. I thought he'd given me an over-hard smack on what he thought was my overcoat-covered ass, to be playful. He was actually about 50 feet back laughing his ass off about the snowball he'd thrown. I'm not sure if it was because it hurt so much or that I couldn't believe he'd actually done it again. I went running back, furious, not really sure what I'd do. My aunt and uncle, slower walkers than we were, were even farther behind so he was by himself when I got there. I ran up to him and said "Assfuck!" and kicked him in the leg. I didn't hurt him this time. He was so busy laughing about my "assfuck" that I don't think he would have felt much pain anyway.

My aunt and uncle never mentioned it. Ichabod is still teasing me about the assfuck. I still don't think snowballs are funny. Thank God for Spring melt!