I don't have to go back to work until January 2nd of NEXT year!
Weeeeeeeeeee!
(and, yes, that IS a picture of me)
Weeeeeeeeeee!
(and, yes, that IS a picture of me)
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Thursday, December 13, 2007
BFFs...
JLR is my best friend. For today.
Why?
Because she offered to play the lottery, and use any hypothetical winnings to support me.
If I had any string, I’d totally make her a friendship bracelet. That way her status as my BFF would be official for all to see.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Bang! Bang!
So, about an hour ago, I was watching the evening news when I heard this loud popping sound. Cautiously, I peeped out the front window of my house and saw a white or cream colored, boxy four door sedan slowly driving down my street. For whatever reason, the people inside the vehicle were either setting off firecrackers or are discharging some sort of automatic weapon.
Fun!
I didn’t panic right away. Gunfire (and fireworks for that matter) is rather common in my area. Not that I live in a bad part of town, mind you. I just live close to a not-so-good part of town. As a result, it is not unheard of for noises from the not-so-good part of town to filter up in to my neck of the woods (read: two or three blocks away).
Plus, I was pretty sure I had heard a Fizz! sound which implied a bunch of kids in a car with firecrackers, not guns.
So, when Haskell squeaked to be let out ten or so minutes later, I didn’t think twice about it. I put both dogs outside in the backyard (to do their “evening business”), while I headed to the back to get ready for bed.
And THAT is when I heard it. Two LOUD BANGS coming from (what sounded like) my backyard. I immediately rushed to the back door to let Haskell and Gypsy Kitty back inside. Part of me was convinced that someone had broken into my backyard, noticed the dogs and opened fire on them.
Instead (thank goodness!), I discovered both my dogs at the back door safe and physically unharmed. Haskell was literately trying to dig his way back indoors, and poor Gypsy was violently shaking all over. Both were terrified.
Not knowing what else to do, I locked the doors, turned off the kitchen light, herded the dogs and myself into the master bathroom (which has no windows) and dialed 911.
Here is the conversation that transpired:
911: “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Me: “Uhmmm, yes. There were just gunshots around my house and they were really loud. They sounded like they came from my backyard, but I didn’t see anybody. So, maybe they came from the alley directly behind my house? I’m not really sure.”
911: “Ma’am, where are you calling from?”
Me: “My house. I’m standing in the bathroom…”
911: “No, ma’am. I mean, what is your address?”
Me: “You don’t know? I thought you traced these calls?”
911: “No, ma’am. Not if the person calling can tell me where they are located.”
Me: “Really? Okay, well my address is [blah, blah, blah].”
911: “Thank you, ma’am. I’m showing several reports of gunfire in your neighborhood. Goodbye.”
AND THEN SHE JUST HUNG UP!
I’m sorry, what?!
I sat there staring at the phone unsure of the following:
Not knowing what else to do (and not feeling up to leaving the bathroom just yet), I tried calling Trevor. Twice. No answer. Some boyfriend HE is (which is too bad because I totally wanted him to come over and protect me)!
No Trevor meant that I proceeded to call my landlord next as well as text both Melissa and RR in the hopes SOME ONE would still be awake. All three were and deserve medals for talking to me and calming me down. Especially Melissa who convinced me that it would probably be safe to leave the bathroom approximately fifteen minutes after the last gunshot. In an effort to be safe than sorry, I hunkered down next to the john for a good half hour.
So, now I’m sitting in bed, typing this blog entry and listening to the sounds of distant gunfire.
Sigh.
Wonder if I’ll calm down enough tonight to get some shut eye?
Fun!
I didn’t panic right away. Gunfire (and fireworks for that matter) is rather common in my area. Not that I live in a bad part of town, mind you. I just live close to a not-so-good part of town. As a result, it is not unheard of for noises from the not-so-good part of town to filter up in to my neck of the woods (read: two or three blocks away).
Plus, I was pretty sure I had heard a Fizz! sound which implied a bunch of kids in a car with firecrackers, not guns.
So, when Haskell squeaked to be let out ten or so minutes later, I didn’t think twice about it. I put both dogs outside in the backyard (to do their “evening business”), while I headed to the back to get ready for bed.
And THAT is when I heard it. Two LOUD BANGS coming from (what sounded like) my backyard. I immediately rushed to the back door to let Haskell and Gypsy Kitty back inside. Part of me was convinced that someone had broken into my backyard, noticed the dogs and opened fire on them.
Instead (thank goodness!), I discovered both my dogs at the back door safe and physically unharmed. Haskell was literately trying to dig his way back indoors, and poor Gypsy was violently shaking all over. Both were terrified.
Not knowing what else to do, I locked the doors, turned off the kitchen light, herded the dogs and myself into the master bathroom (which has no windows) and dialed 911.
Here is the conversation that transpired:
911: “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
Me: “Uhmmm, yes. There were just gunshots around my house and they were really loud. They sounded like they came from my backyard, but I didn’t see anybody. So, maybe they came from the alley directly behind my house? I’m not really sure.”
911: “Ma’am, where are you calling from?”
Me: “My house. I’m standing in the bathroom…”
911: “No, ma’am. I mean, what is your address?”
Me: “You don’t know? I thought you traced these calls?”
911: “No, ma’am. Not if the person calling can tell me where they are located.”
Me: “Really? Okay, well my address is [blah, blah, blah].”
911: “Thank you, ma’am. I’m showing several reports of gunfire in your neighborhood. Goodbye.”
AND THEN SHE JUST HUNG UP!
I’m sorry, what?!
I sat there staring at the phone unsure of the following:
- If anyone was coming to see about the gunshots.
- If a certain number of neighborhood residents had to call and complain about hearing gunshots before someone would be dispatched to see about them.
- If the DPD even knew where I lived.
- If anyone cared. At all.
- If I’d be able to lure Gypsy Kitty or Haskell in to the backyard ever again.
Not knowing what else to do (and not feeling up to leaving the bathroom just yet), I tried calling Trevor. Twice. No answer. Some boyfriend HE is (which is too bad because I totally wanted him to come over and protect me)!
No Trevor meant that I proceeded to call my landlord next as well as text both Melissa and RR in the hopes SOME ONE would still be awake. All three were and deserve medals for talking to me and calming me down. Especially Melissa who convinced me that it would probably be safe to leave the bathroom approximately fifteen minutes after the last gunshot. In an effort to be safe than sorry, I hunkered down next to the john for a good half hour.
So, now I’m sitting in bed, typing this blog entry and listening to the sounds of distant gunfire.
Sigh.
Wonder if I’ll calm down enough tonight to get some shut eye?
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
For absolutely NO reason...
The following is an email conversation between me and someone best described as “relating to, belonging to, or characteristic of a bird”. I will call her BERT for short.
The conversation started at 2:33 PM and ended at 5:12 PM.
[Note: Every line represents an individual email]
* Names/addresses changed to protect the innocent.
The conversation started at 2:33 PM and ended at 5:12 PM.
[Note: Every line represents an individual email]
BERT: “Do you have any contact info for *Alice?”
Me: “Maybe.”
BERT: “What do you mean ‘maybe’??? Either you do or you don't. But it is in your benefit if you do.”
Me: “What’s in it for me?”
BERT: “It's a surprise. A good surprise. Not a ‘I-stuck-with-the-gnome-who-won't-give-up-the-chocolate-bomb’ surprise.”
Me: “I’d prefer money.”
BERT: “Would you accept devotion instead?”
Me: “Sorry. Visa, MasterCard, check or cash. I no longer accept Discover.”
BERT: “Well at least you are more accommodating than Neiman Marcus. Deal. Now can I have contact info?”
Me: “How ‘bout peanut M&Ms? Do you have any of those?”
BERT: “Those I can get. If you are really good, I might throw some cookies in the mix.”
Me: “Will the M&Ms be the original colors, or Christmas themed?”
BERT: “Your choice.”
Me: “No. This is a test. Chose.”
BERT: “You don't have the info, do you???”
Me: “No, I do. I have it right here.”
BERT: “I don't believe you. You are stringing this along because you don't have the info.”
Me: “No, I’m stringing this along because the document I’m working on this afternoon is driving me crazy and I like the distraction.”
BERT: “I would still email you if I had the info. I have other questions and conversation topics for you.”
Me: “Stop stalling. Regular colors or Christmas colors? Also, do you have access to the mints they have at the Dallas Country Club?”
BERT: “Christmas. No. Now can I have the info?”
Me: “Can you figure out how to obtain access to the mints at the Dallas Country Club?”
BERT: “I know nothing about the mints.”
Me: “Sigh. You’re no help, which is tragic because I’m craving those mints RIGHT NOW! Here are *Alice’s email addresses: [*address 1, *address 2].”
BERT: “Sorry. But you are a peach for getting me the info. I put in a good word for you with Santa.”
* Names/addresses changed to protect the innocent.
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Turkeyisms...
New favorite Pub Quiz quotations:
- “I’m very intelligent, thank you!”
- “Remember what the handwriting analyst said: You have no patience for stupid people.”
- “You’ve made my contact hurt!”
- “Wait? The Sears in ‘Sears Tower’ and the Sears in ‘Sears and Robuck’ are the same Sears?! Really?”
Three out of the four statements were made by a CERTAIN SOMEONE. I won’t mention her name, but from this moment on she will be dubbed “The Turkey”. This is (of course) in reference to THIS STORY.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Who is in charge here?
As of TODAY, the Cotton Bowl looks like this:
I'm no expert, but how (exactly) will the Cotton Bowl be ready to go for the Arkansas versus Missouri game on January 1st, 2008?
Furthermore, when did the word “renovation” mean “let’s tear down a quarter of the stadium and start over”? I’m just curious.
I'm no expert, but how (exactly) will the Cotton Bowl be ready to go for the Arkansas versus Missouri game on January 1st, 2008?
Furthermore, when did the word “renovation” mean “let’s tear down a quarter of the stadium and start over”? I’m just curious.
Sunday, December 02, 2007
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