Walking In My Shoes

I don’t even KNOW what I was in the middle of writing, or thinking about writing, when my computer went blue in that awful, miserable blue screen of death-way on Thursday night. I knew the failure was coming–really, I did–after a few weeks of periodic crashes and blue screens and clanking sounds that sounded like the legs of a legion of little elves were getting tired inside the machine, but that didn’t stop me from doing a lot of moaning and hair-pulling and yes, garment-rending (um, seriously. I almost tore my t-shirt right off, like Brandi Chastain, but for much less celebratory reasons). I also may have clutched my chest in heaving desperation and screeched, “MY FIIIIIIILLLLLLES!” like it was some sort of SURPRISE that my computer was dying, nevermind the back-ups and blue screens and … well, whatever, this is boring to even me, but suffice it say that I am writing this on some wild back-up Dell machine that weighs approximately 4,500 lbs and runs hot enough that I could poach eggs between my thighs. I do, however, have a shiny new laptop zooming its way through the magic of UPS, depending on when it’s completed, which is exciting, and will hopefully have no impact on whether I can bear children.

I’m fairly certain I’ve mentioned the bizarre oddity of my neighborhood before, what with the people who walk their cats in strollers and whatnot, and while there are plenty of normal, nice folk that I love spending time with, the fact that I spied a man–A MAN–walking down the street wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts and carrying a chihuahua in a Baby Bjorn really makes me wonder if this is all some sort of test. Is someone waiting for the day that we finally have enough and run screaming to the end of the universe, which is really just a Truman Show-like DOME? Because God, this man, he wasn’t wearing any shoes, and he was walking through a construction site with, P.S., a chihuahua in a Baby Bjorn. In his underwear. The man, not the chihuahua, I mean, although it wouldn’t shock me if the dog was wearing undies in the Baby Bjorn, and maybe a diaper.

I have to admit, nothing like this has ever happened to me anywhere else, and I’m becoming quite attached to it. Living in an underdeveloped area causes a ton of culture clash, and it’s fantastically entertaining, but hoo boy, I need to move out of this neighborhood.

Anyway, that’s plenty of weirdness for now, I think. At least if I run into much more, I will, actually run off to the end of the proverbial dome and maybe hang myself, because Jesus. Other than that, our weekend was spent doing exciting things like laundry and cleaning the litter box (Note to cat: Please stop peeing on the floor NEXT to the litterbox. I know you’re big, and I know you like to put your ass as close to the edge as possible, but really, it’s not getting in the box the way you think it is, and I, for one, am sick of cleaning up your urine. Thanks! xoxo, Mom), but we did get out to see Harry Potter, and I know look, I KNOW it’s a little on the lame side, but we always go to see them in the theater, we just do. It’s a bit of a compulsion, similar to the one we had with Lord of the Rings, though they are decidedly not the same experience (oh, how I wish there were seven LotR movies! Or twelve! I don’t care how nerdy it is! Bring on the ents!)

Did you ever, when you were younger, think that weekends would degenerate so? I mean, I honestly had a great weekend, even though the highlight was cleaning the bath mats and enjoying their fresh fluffiness (I’m thinking about going in there later just to stand on them, such is the nature of my jubilation. They’re so fresh! And fluffy! And clean!). Oh oh, and cleaning the master closet. That was a thrill. And sadly, I’m not really kidding. It’s just the way it is when you get older, I guess.

But finally, honestly, Big Brother? I love you. I love your Name That Pie contests, and I love Jen. I LOVE HER. She is very likely the dumbest person I’ve ever seen anywhere (although she is a member of JENSA), and it’s truly amazing, really, that you found her through the miracle of casting. Some might say it’s JENIUS.

Happy Sunday/Monday!

*Depeche Mode

**Edited to add that I accidentally edited/sliced a whole section while editing, and now I’m too tired to bring it back. Whoops. But it involved a strange man on an ATV with a swastika tattoo popping up out of nowhere, which is always exciting.

21 comments July 15th, 2007