All dreadful with determination
This is our last week in the house on Grand, and with every day that passes I become more hermitlike. At least, online--like today, I noticed about 400 myspace messages I hadn't seen, and I haven't been here in weeks, and I'm lazy with emails.
Sigh.
Moving out of a house is . . . to moving out of an apartment, as a 400 pound grandma is to a only-slightly-unattractive 25 year-old woman. We've got crap stacked up so thick that it's like hop scotch to get to the living room. My room downstairs is now void of furniture and strewn with cds, notebooks, NES games, clothes, shoes, paints, and an entire graveyard worth of dead slugs and spiders and other insects.
Speaking of graveyards: virtual cake for nick's birthday: chocolate base, green and brown frosting to simulate the ground, hershey bars carved and inscribed like tombstones, and plastic zombie figurines. Hot? Yes.
The reason I'm posting: check out this weird afternoon I had. Had to hit two libraries with returns, AND hit the courthouse to renew my crappy, crappy car's registration. After library 1, I was cruising one of town's more economically depressed sections. At one intersection, there were a pair of obese thirtiesish minority women in mumus lying in an apartment complex front yard. After the stop sign, I rolled through and one of the women jogged toward my car, body bouncing and face all dreadful with determination. She slapped the side of my car and then, after I was maybe twenty feet away, screamed something like
"Hey! Get back here right now!"
Then I thought she said something about heart attack, so I stopped and popped my head out the window.
She yelled, "You almost hit me! Now you owe us a ride!"
I stared.
"We're goin to Arlington! Come back here."
"Where are you going?"
"We wanna go down to Arlington! You give us a ride!"
"Okay!" I said. Then I drove drove drove away.
Sigh.
Moving out of a house is . . . to moving out of an apartment, as a 400 pound grandma is to a only-slightly-unattractive 25 year-old woman. We've got crap stacked up so thick that it's like hop scotch to get to the living room. My room downstairs is now void of furniture and strewn with cds, notebooks, NES games, clothes, shoes, paints, and an entire graveyard worth of dead slugs and spiders and other insects.
Speaking of graveyards: virtual cake for nick's birthday: chocolate base, green and brown frosting to simulate the ground, hershey bars carved and inscribed like tombstones, and plastic zombie figurines. Hot? Yes.
The reason I'm posting: check out this weird afternoon I had. Had to hit two libraries with returns, AND hit the courthouse to renew my crappy, crappy car's registration. After library 1, I was cruising one of town's more economically depressed sections. At one intersection, there were a pair of obese thirtiesish minority women in mumus lying in an apartment complex front yard. After the stop sign, I rolled through and one of the women jogged toward my car, body bouncing and face all dreadful with determination. She slapped the side of my car and then, after I was maybe twenty feet away, screamed something like
"Hey! Get back here right now!"
Then I thought she said something about heart attack, so I stopped and popped my head out the window.
She yelled, "You almost hit me! Now you owe us a ride!"
I stared.
"We're goin to Arlington! Come back here."
"Where are you going?"
"We wanna go down to Arlington! You give us a ride!"
"Okay!" I said. Then I drove drove drove away.
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