At 4 a.m. Saturday, I was awakened by yelling from downstairs. The downstairs guy's girlfriend was bitching him out, LOUDLY, because he stole money from her purse. And I would have liked nothing more than to have trotted downstairs and said to the loudmouthed girl, "Honey, here's an idea! How about if you just LEAVE?" Every single time she comes over, all she does is yell, so I'm not really clear on why she keeps coming around.
Then, at 10 a.m. Saturday, I was awakened again when thugs from the local rent-to-own outlet tried to break down the downstairs guy's door, and then when he finally opened the door, they threatened (LOUDLY) to break his kneecaps if he didn't pay up on what he owed.
In my opinion, renting f*cking furniture is not a good idea. It never ends well.
There are currently catalpa cuttings rooting on my windowsill! That may not end well, either, but heck, it's gonna be at LEAST ten years before they're big enough to make a mess of my yard, so I'm not gonna worry about it now.
I once again got sucked into watching "Working Girl" this weekend. It's just one of those movies with an odd force field around it; if I happen across it while changing channels, I end up watching the whole darn thing. And I am starting to realize that the reason I love that movie so much is because I AM Tess. I pulled myself up and out of the secretarial pool by sheer force of will.
When the movie first came out, I had just put an illustrious career in burger flipping behind me and had started my current job. It was my DREAM to move up, like Tess, and become something more.
And while I'm still working for the same company, my job (and my salary) is now so much more than it was back then. I did it. Wheeeeee!
There is a bathroom rug that dare not speak its name residing in a Boscov's bag in my kitchen right now. I bought the rug for - Shhhhhhh! - the new place. Right now, waiting for closing, the - shhhhhhhh! - new place is taking on almost a mythical quality, like something that's not quite real.
There! was! a! firefly! in the backyard Saturday night! Woot!
There are a bunch of crows in the neighborhood that are driving me insane. Every single time one of the cats goes into the backyard, those goddam crows start cawing and cawing and CAWING and it's driving me nuts. Sometimes they'll get all worked up when the cats are INSIDE, so I guess it's not just my cats that are driving them bonkers. Sunday afternoon I was out in the backyard when they started up their cacophony, so I walked under the maple tree they were hanging out in to have a little heart-to-heart with the noisy bastards, and I shit you not, one of them grabbed a good-sized twig from the tree and chucked it at me. I swear, that bird grabbed a branch and THREW it at me.
Time to buy a BB gun.
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4 comments:
I have a roosting tree outside my bedroom window. They sit and throw things at my husband when he's coming up the driveway from work -- or they did until I got out the SuperSoaker. Crows are smart and I like watching them, so I don't want them dead, but they also are trainable. If they get blown off a branch with a stream of water when they start throwing crap, they stop doing it. And (I confess) it's sort of fun to hit them out of nowhere with a jet of water and watch them try to collectively figure out what's happening.
I expect it to work for about a week until they realize they can simply change position and put something between the window and their perch.
Oooooh, a SuperSoaker! I've gotta try that!
(Mainly as an excuse to buy a giant water pistol.) :)
The crows at our place in NY would call to each other in the morning. We were convinced that there were two of them and their names were Eric and Jerry. One would call to the other over and over again. It became funny. Better to laugh at it than to get pissed every sunny morning in the summer.
...... it's just so dang loud .....
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