It would appear that whoever is manning the loudspeaker is now using it to practice his bird calls.

Does he realize it is still turned on?

Apparently another mad gunman is roving this town.

Loudspeaker: THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. PLEASE TAKE SHELTER INDOORS IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE TAKE SHELTER INDOORS IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM WINDOWS.

More sirens.

Did I just hear gunshots, or is it my imagination?

I suppose it might just be feedback from the loudspeaker.

You know those pancakes that come with Mu Shu pork? And how if you keep them in the refrigerator, they get hard as a rock and then they break the next day, and you get food all over the place and it’s a godawful mess.

I have just learned that if you leave them out overnight, they stay soft.

This changes everything.

Incontrovertible photographic proof will be published later, once I have roused myself to go out to the car and get the camera.

Here is the incontrovertible photographic proof:

Note how the pancake is not split into several jagged, painful pieces and is still capable of containing Mu Shu Pork.

Today I ran into the Piano Playing Downstairs Neighbor, who is emoting even as we speak. We were on the stairs. I froze.

She said, “Hello.” I could not speak. Then she went downstairs. I fled upstairs.

It had to be The Piano Playing Downstairs Neighbor, considering that she was not:

a. the hairy-ass guy
b. his mean girlfriend
c. the two Asian guys
d. Rob

And that is all the apartments that are downstairs. Only one is left. The Piano Playing Apartment below ours.

She seemed- strangely- normal. I mean, this is a woman who plays elementary Bach for at least 3 hours per day. And sometimes longer than that. Not to mention the finger exercises, and that one time when she played Beethoven’s Sonata Pathetique.

She is obviously not normal.

Freaks. They walk among us.

Her: I had one of those white chocolate eggs. I guess white chocolate doesn’t form into an egg shape that easily- it looked more like a penis.
Me: Maybe you should have looked at the wrapper more carefully.
Her: I sincerely doubt your mother is mailing me white chocolate penises.

Random Stranger Watching Me Take Photo Of Insane Crowds: Are you going to caption it, “This is what a debacle looks like?”
Me: I think, “What the hell?” will probably suffice.

Today when I went to the library, I expected the usual smackdown regarding my fines.

Imagine my surprise when the computerized library system, as well as the humanoid library worker, offered me a new library card instead.

I graciously accepted.

The humanoid library worker then took away my old card and informed me that I still have $6.41 in fines which I can pay at any time.

“I suspected as much,” I replied, with a measure of despair tempered by bravado.

As art, I think this is quite successful. As signage for a BBQ, I am not so sure.

Does it leave the viewer wondering, “What is a FREEAT?” I might have thought of that before I finished, but whatever.

In any case, let’s hope this is the last time that anyone asks me to make a banner.

Donut Place Man: How did you know about us?
Me: Uh. I just knew.

Car Place Man On The Phone: You also need a new tail light. You can’t just tape it together.

Car Place Man #1: Which car is yours?
Me: The tiger striped one.
Car Place Man #2: Well- other than being tiger striped, what kind of car is it?
Me: I also call it a Toyota.
CPM 3: A Toyota Corolla.
Me: Yes.
CPM 2: A Tigeryota.
Me: Is that my key?

Classmate: Those are some godawful yellow shorts.
Me: That’s some godawful yellow hair.

Teacher: Rufus* has no self esteem and talks too much about his art. Kevin** does not talk enough about his art and is a megalomaniac.

Person In Line In Front Of Me At Kroger, Carrying Rotisserie Chicken, in Spanish: I don’t know how they get the floors so shiny.
Person In Line In Front Of Me At Kroger, Carrying Loaf of Bread, in Spanish: Me either.
PILIFOMAKCRIS: Go get some forks, spoons, and so on.

Me: So then we discussed Johns.
Her: What? Male prostitutes?

Time: 12:32 AM
Her: (already asleep)
Me: (climbing into bed.) Goodnight.
Frightening Zombie Her: (rolls over and clutches me in deathgrip.) Who wants to know? Why are you useless?
Me: What? Let go of me!

* name has been changed to protect the innocent
** me

It’s been 3 years since we moved to this dump, and the floors inch closer to being completely laid.

Here Mondego experiences this moderately wondrous state of affairs.

Take a bow, Mondego.

Her: And then if you are one of 30 finalists selected, you will be asked to submit a multimedia piece on the theme of, “If you had an audience of millions, what would you say?”

(a moment passes during which I pet the cat)

Me: Hmmm. What would I say to an audience of millions?
Her: What wouldn’t you say to them?

Dog diarrhea in living room: 5 gallons
TV Medical Shows on Netflix DVD: 2 (Scrubs and Gray’s Anatomy)
TV Medical Shows on Netflix DVD that I actually like: 1 (Scrubs)
Presentations to finish by tomorrow: 1
Cars to have inspected: 1
Cars I would prefer to roll into the river rather than have inspected: 1
Reasons I do not roll car into river: 2
a. environmental impact
b. long walk home from river
Local bomb threats: 1
Difficulties encountered in attempting to sign up for fall classes: myriad

The time is 8:45 on Sunday morning. We are having the floors finished today. “Finished,” in this case, means, “completed,” rather than, “polyurethaned.” We have enjoyed three years of not having any floors in the closets or any shoe molding around most of the rooms of the house owing to my own home repairs laziness. The guy who is doing it is coming at 9 which necessitated my fleeing from the house into the barrens of a town where even the college library doesn’t open until noon on Sunday.

I am at Starbucks, the cockroach of civilization, because the local coffee place doesn’t open until 9. Stupid of them, I think. No wonder Starbucks has 13,000 locations and they only have one. They are inefficient.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered there is an NTC hotspot at this very same Starbucks. Well, technically it is for the 5 Guys next door. And I don’t take back anything I have said about NTC. They are the cockroach of internet service providers. But it is convenient anyway, considering that I am already paying them approximately $6,000 per year for slow, spotty ethernet service in the apartment, not to mention all the headaches they have caused and the years off my life.

Here is a picture of my breakfast. It is rife with irony. Note the stack of 5 books beside the preachy quote on the coffee cup.

That’s postmodernism for you.

So, it took me 1.5 hours to drive home tonight. It’s normally a 30 minute drive. Yuck.

Keep your foot off the brake. Steer in the direction of the skid. That is what I kept reminding myself.

That’s hard to do when the direction of the skid is the same direction that will lead you into a line of cars, or into a snowy ditch. But that’s the way it is.

This ice is on the inside of the door to the balcony, which is frozen shut. I am cold. I hate this weather. I hate the winter. I hate these goddam mountains.