Those Stretchy Tube Things

Call me crazy!  I like the torture. 


I bought the one in the middle. My thought on that is, I don't want the easy one - I'll do it a few times and give it away. I don't want the hard one, I won't be able to do it and I'll give it away. Something tells me that I'm the Momma Bear in this Goldie Locks story of exercising, and I want the one in the middle! I want the one that will pull a little, hurt a little, be a little bit of a challenge, and then when I've mastered it I can keep it around for a while and just use it while I stand around watching NCIS. I don't sit when I watch that show anymore unless I'm sitting on the Reebox silver stud of a horse/ball that I find myself riding. My God my thighs love Jethro Gibbs! I can be riding along with my eyes on Abby from the lab, and heck, not much happens - a little ride, a little squeeze to keep my balance. But when Gibbs shows up....giddy up! LOL...I'm only saying that to make my friends laugh. Gibbs needs a beard.

The pulling, stretchy tube thing is cool. I think they have a real name, something really close to resistance tube or elastic restrictive bands. I don't know. I just call them the things that don't work well as a jump rope because the handles are too broad and they slide around on you. You have to stand on the bands to get the resistance you need, and you spread your legs to spread your feet, and you pull up on the bands using the handles and you concentrate really really hard on not popping yourself in the face with one side or the other. If you do what I do, and keep a big jug of water just on the other side of the stretch you can find the true mark of the word resistance. 30 minutes of working out to give the dogs just enough time to jump from their roost on the couch to either knock the water over or come get underneath you for a scratch -- or both.

Since NCIS doesn't come on every night you may have to improvise. I have the DVD set for all seasons, I know exactly what Tony DiNozzo will say to make me laugh - love that man's voice, sends me to the sky every time.  OOOHHHH, yes, kickboxing. I need to start that too. I found that standing in one place (a small apartment) can be beneficial for a few reasons. The dogs now realize that there's a Do Not Cross zone in the living room and Matrix will enter the room, jump onto the couch, and make his way through the room without touching the floor. Faith can't do that. She stands at the entry and just sort of waits on me to get finished kicking....pulling...stretching...riding. If I happen to be on my back she gives me a welcoming lick to the eyeball and I have no other alternative than to let her pass. Who can say no to a two-legged dog that really can't fight her way past you to get to the bowl?

I've decided to join the gym again for a couple of months to kick the heck out of BOB the standing guy that doesn't mind if you hurt him really badly. He loves it. He's basically there for my pleasure - sometimes I imagine the face of the Sgt. Major that took my son into the Army and I just let him have it! Just kidding - I think of Santa Claus for not bringing me the fire truck I asked for when I was 4.
Oh, she went there! She went there. 

That 70's Show - Is so "EVEN"

Picture of Ashton being Michael Kelso, I didn't take the picture.

When I watch that 70's Show I can't help but laugh or maybe the proper "OLD" word is chuckle, because they've completely researched some of the really minute details to the point that Kelso can come running up through someones garage and say something so random, but it hits home immediately. If you're young and you don't get it, but your parents are rolling over laughing, the writers have hit their mark - AGAIN.

Kelso comes running through Eric's garage almost late for an event, but he makes his excuse freely (paraphrased, I wasn't listening that closely to be able to say it verbatim) "I would have been here sooner but I was cutting through the Davis' yard when..." and he goes on about what new electrical appliance they had or something. I don't know, but to say "I was cutting through so-and-so's yard". WE DID THAT. We so did that. I'd walk across the street, but then cut through the Willis' yard by opening their gate latch, closing it of course as to not let the dogs out, then I'd cross their back yard - sometimes even look into their back sliding glass door to see if they were cooking, eating, on the phone, in the living room, or not - and I'd jump their back fence (6') in order to make it to 7-11 without having to walk around the blocks to get there. To get to school I could walk the 8 blocks properly, or just jump my own fence, cross over the Hambrick's fence, their yard, go through the circle, and find the latch on the Shuck's fence, open it, go through their yard, jump over whoever lived on the other side of them, I never even asked...open their latch and cross the street. There you have it - Apollo Elementary!

My sister just bought a new house in a city that has a lot of backyards abutting one another. When she heard someone in her yard this past weekend it scared her to death. Someone had used the support beams on the other side of her fence to cross into her yard, and they went through without a hitch, opening her gate, and exiting. She immediately went to the pound and got a German Shepherd, then to Target and bought a lock for the gate. Subsequently, on a cute little side note: Andie never jumped the neighbor's fences, and I have no idea why. We were all raised in the same house. Another cute side note: Andie thought her new dog was lonely and got him a playmate today. Now she has two German Shepherds. I think that's funny.

Kelso isn't my favorite character on That 70's Show. I like Hyde. I think I would love to have been given the chance to go back to the 70's and I'd so totally rock Hyde's world - I would. He's awesome. He's the type of guy I always stayed clear of when I was growing up, I would have been right around their age I think, maybe 2 years younger, I don't know, but I was always on the goody-goody side of things - but knowing what I know now - - yeah, he and I would have been in that basement. I'd turn the washing machine and the dryer on at the same time to drown out any noise that he might be making - - I'm serious, he's a hottie. If he had been in a kilt he wouldn't be for long!  I always seemed to think boys with longer curly freak hair were cute back in the day. Today I like bearded men. Why was I so wrapped up with JOCKS back then - where is that time machine? I have a few more things to jump than just the neighbor's chain links.  (Did I say that out loud?) 

Fire's Breath

(Feeling a bit poetic today - this one was written a few years back)

Fire's Breath

I arch my body toward the stars
To feel your hand in touch
To whisper words you cannot hear
But words transformed in love

I reach to hold your firm strong arms
To press you even closer
To hold you fast within my loin
I celebrate my lover

Tonight resounds within my mind
A vision - impressions
Tomorrow's love, soon foretold
With sweet anticipation

Keep me sheltered in your soul
Your thoughts dear - caress
Strength to carry through the day
I wait for you - your presents

It won't be long until we love
Until we kiss impassioned
Fire's breath shines through your eyes
Revealing love - unquestioned

Dream: They Took the Children

Very interesting and strange dream last night. I couldn't get past part of it, most of it played out like a movie as they usually do when I'm dreaming. I don't always have a clean start, sometimes having to guide the dream from when I realize I'm dreaming. Last night was fun, but a bit off center.

Laura called me to let me know that she had been taken. She was younger than her 19 years, maybe 10 or 11. She was being held by a woman who owned "The Beauty Shop" and she gave me the address of 917 Memphis - I'll have to go look that one up. Naturally I went to this place, but not before using the attic as my doorway to get to my own apartment (don't ask) and I found my baby Caity there sleeping. I took her with me to go retrieve her sister. Laura's concern was that I would have to get several facials before they would let her go live with me again. It was sort of a payment plan I guess. Seems there was this woman, and in Laura's case it was the actual owner of the Beauty Shop that had masterminded the scheme for every child that was taken. Laura just happened to be taken by the mastermind. I wasn't quite sure how I was going to handle it, but I went to the shop with both emotional barrels loaded.

When I arrived at the shop to demand my daughter's return a very nicely dressed man took me to the house of the lady who held my daughter Laura captive. Naturally Laura was in bed - she sleeps all day in the real world as well. She sleeps until at least 2:00 p.m. and I wondered if the woman would find this upsetting. She could try as I did for years to get the dead-head up, and then she would be (as I was) subjected to bitching, complaining, moping, moaning, irritated conversation, and even physical acts of throwing things at me - or, were she indeed an intelligent woman who could be capable of masterminding these sorts of plots, let the kid sleep.

Laura's undoing, or the reason the woman surrendered her to me, was not that she slept all the time, it was that she put ROYAL TARTAN sheets and comforters on the bed. The woman was French. Laura's rudeness (for displaying her Celticness) in the face of knowing she was being held was too much for the woman and she allowed a DNA test to prove she was mine before giving her back - but even that was a bit of an elaborate ordeal. The man giving the test was testing two very simple pieces of clothing, but neither of them were Laura's they were Caity's. He was testing Caity's DNA and finding what we all knew he would find, that the subject of his tests was related to, but not the actual girl before him. HELLO..this is Caity! This girl over here, is Laura, and we told you that. He didn't mind. He let her make the decision as to whether she wanted to go home with me or live in the mansion of the woman who owned the Beauty Shop at 917 Memphis. Laura said she would go home with me...you got it...after she woke up.

That was SO Laura. I gave her a kiss on the cheek and Caity asked me if we could go to Subway for lunch. I have no idea what happened to the other kids in town. I just knew my kid would be calling me in a few hours to pick her up and feed her. Oh, and then there was this golf ball that had been broken and sand poured out of it - no idea. Golf was invited in Scotland though.  There are beaches there. Maybe...maybe.

Greatest American Dog - Take Too Far

This blog won't be that long. (hahaha) I wasn't impressed with the show the first week, but promised myself that I would "be there" for Ron and Tillman. Now, as it turns out, I'm being there for Bill and Star as well, seeing how my ex-agent (Hi Mike) now my Advisor Mike is Tillman's agent as well as Star's! I'm telling you, this guy is a no mutt! He's one of those big yellow dogs that lays out on the porch and over by the fire...he knows where the bread and butter are. You think they're just laying there with their eyes closed, tail flipping the flies off right - well, he's listening, he's smelling, he's thinking, he's ready to pounce! Just kidding, I love Mike.

This week on The Greatest American Dog I found myself actually standing up for Beth Joy, who I've been rather critical of personally. I've never really had that much in the way of understanding for people who get their animal's likeness tattooed on their bodies. It's just me, I know - I have 2 tattoos, but I'm just not going to put Faith's face on my leg. First of all, if I did people who know me would say "WHAT? Where's Rover? Where's Christmas!" Yeah...believe it or not, before there was Faith, there were two really, really, really super dogs in my life, and one lives with me right now right along with Faith. I'd look rather silly with 4 dogs' faces on my legs and arms...all mutts...every one of them...perfect pups in their own right. I was saying, I was very proud of Beth Joy for standing up to Wendy. I love Wendy..she's adorable, love her to death, but she overstepped her boundary and thank you Beth Joy! You did the right thing, you were told to take the dog to the new restaurant Bone Appetite...boring and very unoriginal name mind you, but CBS is not known for missing a cute little jab when they can. They're as bad as I am with puns, and I hate that about me, I really do. Thank you Beth Joy for saying it out loud and proud...and I could tell she was scared they were going to kick her off for it too, and Kenji's owner was hoping they would - wasn't she the worst? For those of you who didn't see her abusing her dog over and over (verbally and physically) I wondered why they didn't just ask her to leave during the filming - you know, take your young, foolish smiling self and get off the premises...oh, and leave the dog, you have no business owning one you can't control or one you have to mistreat to just so you can be on television a little longer.

I know, I am really being cynical, but I hate this show! I'd say I won't watch it again, but I have to until Tillman loses - but that's just it, I really hope he doesn't lose. I want to call Ron and ask "Hey Dude, do I really have to watch next week? Tell me, do you lose? I don't want to watch that crap another day." But I know the 2-inch contract he signed prohibits him from spilling it - he can't even hint, and if you know anything about Ron from what you see on TV...he's too cool to say anything. He's too good - I would have been more like Beth Joy "and..and..and..you want something else? Do ya? Do ya? Because I'm not finished here! No, I'm not, don't offer my dog food and expect her not to eat it. You act like I trained her or something! Damn, this wasn't suppose to be the Greatest Trained American Dog was it? You invited us to dinner! You didn't feed me! You didn't feed her! ANDDDDDD, no, I can't shake my dog's right paw you morons! She doesn't have a right paw. She doesn't have a left one either!" Probably a good thing Faith and I are just sitting on the couch with Matrix, my perfect perfect dog. I tell him he's perfect because I take Faith all over the world, and he only gets to chase the geese in the backyard.

OK, this week's challenge was a bit more interesting with the BIG HUGE exception of the hand-shaking expectation. Faith would have just stared at me....big puppy eyes maybe even apologizing for not having the arms to shake me with....poor dog. She would have maybe licked me; and that would have been enough. She has the sweetest heart. She would never have complained - - Hahahaa, you don't know my dog! She can't stop complaining when people don't wait on her hand and back paw. She whines like a baby, throws little fits, and even walks off...just walks off. I can see her in that little box and I'm leaning over saying "Yeah, this is stupid I know, but could you please sort of pretend to be a...a...dog?" Her response would have been "No, and I'm going home now, where's Mike?" (Look at her on the curb with Mike at the top of this blog. She CAN if she WANTS to jump off the curb, but why SHOULD she when she KNOWS Mike will carry her? Where's Mike? I'm soooo out of here....Mike! Mike!

Again, this was a repeat of last week's show - - Ron carries the show! Bill and Star didn't need to go through what they went through. If you want to really hear an opinionated rant I'll tell you - I'm not beyond thinking that this was a ratings issue. I said it last week, and I say it again - it's a really really good thing I said no, and I'll continue to say no if you're out to use my dogps pain for ratings. I suppose there has to be a first "accident"? Elvis nipping at Tillman - I get that, Elvis is a Jack Russell. But it's just too convenient that Bill was outside at 5:45 a.m. when she was hurt, and they got it on tape. They didn't, I'm sure they had to add to it, edit it, make it up, whatever. It just rankles me to think that they'd stage that after the fact for ratings!

So, that's me - drinking wine, eating cheese and olives screaming at Elana..shaking my head and saying to Matrix that CSI will be on soon, I promise, we just have to get through this again...and again...damn. Mike and I talked, and he asked me if I thought next week's audience would be lower than this weeks? God, I hope so. I hope I'm the last person watching and again, I'm only watching until the T-Ron loses. (torn, I know)

Canadian Geese - Strange Bird

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You cant' call them Canadian Geese anymore. Someone up that way took offense, or perhaps it was someone here in Oklahoma who noticed that they don't actually live in Canada, they poop their little green mess right here in the Heartland, so they could and should be called Okie-Geese. I think it's funny to see the masses increase in the area that is my "backyard". I claim it although its a commons area, it's MY backyard you know. The geese are growing in number, and they never leave. They don't vacation - they don't wander. Then my daughter Caity pointed out that they might, but we wouldn't know if they did...they all look the same. So, if 100 or more geese trekked down for the summer and another 100 or so ventured up North no one is going to figure that one out - ever.

I say you can't tell one Canada goose from the next, but they can. I wasn't watching all that closely, but I could sure hear the honking. Honking and blasting of horns going on right behind my head - loud enough to make a girl turn and ask "What are you doing on that pond? STOP!" One goose wasn't happy with another goose and it begs the question - HOW DO YOU KNOW IT WAS HIM? Maybe it was that one over there? They bob and they dive, which is fun to watch. One tawny black mass will go under and then pop up under or behind another one, setting in motion that "Oh, pardon me, I simply didn't realize that was your feathery ass I was coming up under, my bad." Right..good move if you can make it, but again, HOW DO THEY KNOW which butt to pop up under. No wonder the boy geese get a bit bent out of shape. You can see them pointing their wings at the girl goose just in front of them - "HER, she's over there, get her butt, leave mine alone you idiot!"

They make lines. They line up and line up, and follow suit, and get in place as if they have a pecking order - I guess maybe they do. One goose may accidentally get in front of the one he's suppose to be behind and they start at the wing flapping, head butting, bobbing their little mouths open and shut over and over at each other. One group of 10 or so will try to out-line the other group. Calling out something in Goose like "Our line is better than yours" - and just to prove it that it's not, the second group of 10 or more will line up, honk and pass the first group - with that last little guy always struggling to bring up the rear - paddling his little goose butt off to make the train. Makes you wonder - are they really this boring or is it just me waiting for that next gig assignment and I've been reduced to standing at the pond in my backyard staring at the backsides of identical birds that won't leave the premises.

What's really funny, and I should get up at 7:10 in the morning and film this for YouTube, is that around the time that traffic is just beginning to get heavy in the morning, these geese, all of them, come from one side of the street to the other. Crossing over the little runoff that is on both sides of the street so that the pond can flow into the creek which is directly to the East of the backyard pond, it also flows into the creek which is just West of the pond, but a beaver lives there with his den, and the geese stay clear of him. The crane is another story, but we're talking geese for now, so let me get back to it.

When the geese are crossing the street the traffic on both sides must stop. The CITY put up a Duck Crossing sign, which OK,technically we have 11 ducks in the mix, but we have more than 60 geese crossing at that time. NO, you can't just drive through them. People stand outside EVERY DAY watching the crossing, and if you did drive through them and harm even one tiny feather on the big brown beautiful babies, you would be hunted down before you made a block! You'd be turned in, turned out, turned over, and ripped to shreds by all of those who do actually get up at 7:10 in the morning to see this event on a daily. I don't know how the geese (and often the 11 ducks)know when the time is right, but you'd think the drivers would find another route. This is not going to stop.

This past June when the ends of our street were closed off to fix a water main the geese quickly spotted a few suckers on the construction crew. They lost weight giving up their sandwiches...or made more sandwiches and brought them for the geese. City workers don't usually need much of an excuse to stop working. The march of the geese was just another way of putting in a good day's standing around - why not, it pays the same. I have to get a hobby!

I Met Billie Letts!

I love Billie Letts!

What Billie doesn't know is that I have been living somewhat parallel to her for years. That's probably why I like her so dang much. I am an English Professor, she is too. She calls herself an instructor because she didn't get the PhD, but she has a Masters in English like I do, and we both taught composition in colleges in Oklahoma. She taught a few more years than I did - I have to give her that. We're both writers, and we both love Tulsa. If someone asks me where I'm from I usually say Edmond, although I was born in Oklahoma City, raised in Bethany, and lived in Tulsa just as long as I lived in Edmond. Tulsa just has a better grip on the cosmopolitan lifestyle I think - Oklahoma City seems more like a laid back cousin to the girl uptown.

I was so excited to find out that Billie's new book "Made in the U.S.A" was on a book signing tour, and both times I meant to bring the book with me to be signed and forgot. I'll have to make a trip to Tulsa when I know she'll be home. Besides, we didn't get our chance to have coffee today and I want to do that too! I'll take the trip up the turnpike soon enough when she returns and we'll just sit and talk. I love this woman.

Now, for those of you who don't readily recognize Billie or her name, shame on you, but nevertheless, she's an author of more than just a few books. She is the best-seller author of "Where the Heart is", and though she is often referred to as the Wal-Mart author, because the store plays a prominent role in at least in two of her best selling books; you may remember her as the mother of the man who wrote "August: Osage County". Tracy Letts is the playwright and author of that and other great stories. "August: Osage County" won so many awards this year it would be impossible to mention them all. It was played both in Chicago at Steppenwolf, and then in NYC by the Chicago company! Billie joked that the "woman who played me in the play deserved a special award for all her gymnastics". I'll have to track him down as well and do my best to get a good picture of myself with him - I love Okies who have come out on top!

I'm not all that happy with my mug on this one. I think I was talking when Caity took it - probably, I do that. I love Billie's smile though. She's just adorable, and she's always funny and fun to be with. Last night when she was giving us a little read from her new book at the Barnes & Noble a lady's cell phone went off in the middle of her speech. Normally, when that happens to me I kind of pause, regroup from the distraction (sometimes giving the person a little smile and nod as if to say "Yes, you should have turned it off") she said out loud "If that calls for me I can't take it right now, I'm a little busy". Perfect answer! I love it, and yes, I'm going to steal it Billie.

Well, I won't go on - Google Ms. Billie Letts. Find out all about her and her beautiful actor husband Dennis (d. 2008) and find out about their love, their travels, their family - and most of all, their devotion to each other. Billie's other books include: Honk & Holler Opening Soon, Shoot the Moon, and now a new novel titled "Made in the U.S.A." is just out, and promises a great deal of success. Look for Billie at book signings, and hug her for me.

I Love This One

I can't add much to that one.

I remember thinking to myself I need to get a new hobby - kicking people is just getting old and you really can't do it in public anymore without people filming you and getting you in trouble at the school board meetings. This is a bad habit for a teacher anyway. Damn kids! LOL

Actually, I don't like to brag - but OK...I do have great legs for a woman my age, and one of the reasons has to be all the horseback riding, but it could also be a contributing factor that I was in gymnastics forever and ever. I managed to do most of my work with my butt and my legs. I didn't do the bars, the bench, or the beam as well as I did floor. I did so well on the floor because I was one of those new and innovative gymnasts (80's) that didn't use her hands much...I threw myself over and over without the use of my hands into what we call whippits; something like a back-hand spring but you don't actually land on your hands. I kept my hands in a cross on my chest, but others put them to the side. I could do 8 or 9 without a problem - by problem I mean landing on my face.

There was this guy one time - and yes, I was publicly kicking the boy. He jumped me from the side and began pulling on my arm to get me into his car. I'd say he wanted to date me, but I think he wanted to kiss me in private first to see if I would be a bit more submissive. I have authority/response problems when it comes to men sometimes - I just don't give in that often - I have this stubborn thing goin' on. So, he's pulling on me, asking me to get into the car with him. He's pretty adamant about it, but I wasn't playing that day. I kicked him so hard in the upper chest that I broke two of his ribs just below the heart and I swear I thought I killed him. I could have used this bumper sticker on my t-shirt that day! Sorry Mr. Cop, I swear I was just Riverdancing...yep, just practicing for the play officer! He got in the way.

Oh, and there was this other time - speaking of horseback riding. I was on a big horse named Clyde and we were riding along, but he decided to roll with me. That pissed me off. I got out from under him and without thinking I just round-housed him in the mouth! I think he got it. I climbed back on his back (no saddle that day) and just rode the damn horse back to the barn where he belonged. We didn't speak for a while - - sometimes I look at Laura, she's 19 now, and I think "I remember you" talking to myself that is....I remember 19. I remember the angst, the 10 mile a day run/walks and the horses. I remember gymnastics, I remember being in love with John Love and walking 25.6 miles to see him run a 800m dash. (No car that night and I didn't think they'd let me bring the horse to the stadium)

Wow...Bumper Stickers on Facebook. This one brought it back.

Things My Son Does to Scare Me - Do Actually Scare Me

Cute huh? We had long hair together, and now we have shorter hair together - but he's still taller, and probably weighs less than I do at this point now that he's spent the last few weeks in Death Valley, CA in the summer heat, in a tank!

My son gets the last laugh - if it kills him, he has to have the last one. He'll plan something for months and months, just to pull it off perfectly, and then just roll over laughing. He doesn't even care if you douse him with a fully charged fire extinguisher afterward - which is what I did to him when he got me last time. I was so mad! I don't even remember what that time was, but let me tell you what he did on September 12, 2001. Remember 9/11? Surely you remember that day right? I was staring out the window thinking I can't go to work again, I work on the 28th floor. What if a plane comes through Oklahoma City, what if they do it here too? I was just a bit on the nervous side, and I did not...did NOT need my son screwing with me like he does from time to time. I grounded the boy when he was younger and he climbed out the window and went to the store to buy me a chocolate bar. I thought he had run away and called the police. They found him and brought him back - he was happy he didn't have to walk the mile home...sweet kid. Right.

On the morning of September 12, 2001 - just after the bombings, just after the mayhem, I couldn't find my son. I was scared to death! It was too early for him to have gone to school, it was only 6:00 a.m. We lived in a mid-rise on the 10th floor, and the locks were locked from the inside. The locks on the front door were locked from the inside. You can't get out his window, it only opened 6" or so - a safety thing since we lived above the 2nd floor. He wasn't in his room. He wasn't in my room. He wasn't in the bathroom, and the little living room and kitchen were open. The closets were jammed with boxes, and I was just standing there crying - bawling my eyes out. Reuben! I began to cry out. REUBEN! Oh my God, my baby! Baby! I was really upset and decided I would go out on the balcony, but he couldn't have gotten out and then relocked the doors. I was literally thinking he was abducted by this time....but couldn't get it through my brain because I didn't (and don't) believe in little green men, but I do believe in transporting if God wants to do it!

I sat on the couch and rocked back and forth screaming into a little brown pillow my mother had made for him to sleep with. I was just unnerved....then he came out of the bathroom - a little scared of what might happen. HOW IN THE HELL could I have missed him? I looked! I was in the shower, I was in the tiny bathroom a dozen times. That's just it. When I was in the bathroom he was hiding behind my door. When I went to his room he went to the bathroom. When I went to my room he went back to his room and hid behind the door. This went on for several minutes, and somehow he was able to hold in the gut and not laugh at me.....until I began sobbing so uncontrollably that even Reuben had to stop laughing. "Mommy, I'm sorry" he began, and I just pounded and pounded and pounded on him. He was 15...he could take it.

He decided to cancel school that morning and just hang out with me. I called into work and my boss understood. No one above the 4th floor wanted to go to work anyway downtown. I just sat and rocked on the couch crying and hitting my son, until he had the great idea to go out and get pizza for breakfast. Hot pizza for breakfast? OK, usually it's cold...so that's what we did. Damn kid!

Reuben has been used at least a half dozen times now in the Army role-playing as the enemy. He's stealth, he's scary stealth, and he's really very good at masterminding these sorts of scare-tactics....spooky scary, and it just kills me. At least I know he's not going to do that one again to me. He pinky-promised and he and I both know you go to HELL if you break one pinky promise! LOL

Men Pissing In My Bathroom Freak me OUT

I was so scared - you have to remember, I live alone and I'm not dating. I don't date. I don't have any reason to - so when I was standing in my kitchen this morning making coffee and heard the VERY distinct sound of a man with a full bladder pissing in my bathroom, lid up I hope, going and going and going - I freaked! I nearly threw the coffee pot to the ground and charged toward the back door. Naturally I had locked it with the bar last night; so there I fighting with that, and trying ever so desperately to save my life - - all the while I'm fumbling with the bar I'm still hearing the man relieving himself. This actually gave me a good feeling because, I validated in my mind, that if he's standing there pissing I have more time to get out - he really had to go! Maybe that's why he somehow broke into my little apartment/condo and found my toilet so useful.

I called for the dogs, I'm literally outside in my jammies this morning calling for my dogs to hurry outside - before he killed them too! That's when it hit me. They weren't barking. My dogs were NOT barking at this unknown man, at this free-spirited person who obviously drank 3 gallons of beer just before making it to my condo! Oh, then the thought came to me that it could be my son surprising me - it would be JUST LIKE him to take a 5 gallon water jug into the bathroom and pour it slowly through a funnel into my toilet to scare me to death...but the dogs would still have barked at him too..I know my dogs.

I came into the house after several unsure minutes. I found what I never expected to find - a large wet puddle in my foyer just under that never-before-unscrewed-door-flap-thing that is hinged to the ceiling. It was leaking, draining really - onto the carpet - naturally missing the tile, of course water was missing the ceramic tile and going through the carpet - I wouldn't have it any other way! So no, no one was standing in my bathroom. No man...no one. Just the AC leaking and freaking me out to the point that I had to go to Starbucks rather than use my coffee pot for fear of dropping it - my hands were shaking. I was thinking "OK, my gun is in the bedroom. I can't get to it without passing the man in the bathroom." Then I was thinking "No, my bullets are in the drawer and my daughter has my keys to that cabinet. I can't get to them, I can't get to anything. Why do I have a gun again? Oh yes to protect me should some MAN come into my house unannounced!"

Well, you can call me paranoid, I don't mind - I would rather be standing outside in my jammies screaming for my dogs to run for their lives than to be married to a man that drinks 3 gallons of beer in the morning and breaks into unsuspecting women's apartments at 7:20 in the morning and pisses in their - hallway. I called maintenance at 9:00 when they came in and told them - they laughed. "We know, we saw it on YouTube" was all Miguel had to say - he teases me like that. I'll be outside writing on my new book (I always have one going) and he'll say "Oh, you can stop. I took photos of your writings and sent them on YouTube, now four authors have that same idea."

I love this place!