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Thursday, February 12, 2009
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Current mood:  tired
Category: Life
So yesterday, all the managers were in a meeting for most of the day. Typically, Kristin and I go on a coffee walk with Bob, who is one of the managers at the meeting, the next morning to get the highlights of the manager meeting. (I don’t think Bob is quite on to our little game because he doesn't mind chatting.)........On the way to Starbucks, I mention how I really needed caffeine because Trevor and I were both involved in an impromptu ballet with an exterior set of doors last night. (Really, it wasn’t the doors’ fault; it was the wicked wind who was having a terribly good time opening and slamming them all night long. It didn’t help matters either that we had to trudge through the swamp of despair each time in order to close the doors.) On our way back from Starbucks, as we are in the elevator heading up to our office’s floor, I realized my tactical mistake.....
....I had ordered a tall mug of steamed milk with honey.....
....I’m a dead-woman by this afternoon.
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Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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Current mood:  calm
Category: Life
Last October, DH* and I hosted a pumpkin carving party at Roth Lair. To help our guests get into the holiday spirit, we covered our wall with spider webs—tossing in a couple of monstrous spiders for good measure—set out some white candles that dripped red wax, and hung bloody hand and foot prints all over our walls. (All of which was perfectly visible from the walk up to our apartment complex.)
The Coup de grâce being the bloody razor blades DH loving arranged around the exterior of our apartment.
Since we were in Germany over Halloween proper, we didn't give it a second thought to leave our decorations up while we were gone. (Of course, we made sure to leave a bowl of candy out for the miniature ghosts and ghouls that haunted our halls.)
It wasn't until the second weekend of November before we could take down our decorations; during which time, our old neighbors moved out and a new set moved in.
On Election Day, I left the office early and stopped by the apartment to garb a book to read while standing in line to vote.
As I was about to walk into the apartment, our neighbor's door swung open and there stood a sixty-year-old Asian Indian woman, complete with sari and frown.
I managed to compose myself after being startled by her and said hello.
The woman glared at me in silence.
I smiled weakly: "You must be new here. Welcome to the apartment complex."
Silence; the woman doesn't attempt to move.
"…Okay, we'll I'm going into my apartment now."
I open my apartment door, walk in, shaking my head in disbelief, and snatch my book off the night stand, then leave.
As I step out into the hallway, I'm greeted by the woman's harsh stare.
She never moved.
I smile, wave good bye, and leave.
It wasn't until I was getting into my car that it dawned on me. This woman probably wasn't familiar with the concept and customs of Halloween and thinks she moved next to a couple of psychos.
* Darling Husband
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Tuesday, October 14, 2008
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Current mood:Charmed
Category: Life
Last Thursday Trevor and I had the pleasure of having dinner with Trevor's father and his future bride, Sandy. On our drive back from dinner, we noticed the traffic lights were out on Grand River Avenue. As we continued to drive, the darkness followed us. For the first time since the summer of 2003, you could see stars in Farmington Hills. When we got home, we found our apartment complex was affected by the power outage. We used our cell phones as flash lights as we fumbled to unlock the door and made our way up the dark staircase, and then down the dark hallway. Once in our apartment, we lit some candles and tried calling Trevor's mother to figure out what had happen. For those of you who have not been by our apartment, we had it decorated for the Halloween party we were throwing later that weekend. Trevor was a little over-zealous with the fake spider webs and had managed to entangle our tiny one bedroom apartment in its threads. Bloody skeletal hand prints peeked through the meticulously strung fibers while frames on the wall were askew. In the candle light, the room took on an eerie tone. Trevor's mother didn't know the power was out. She would call back once she had scoured the online news to see what happened. Hoping to capitalize on this moment, I turned to Trevor and suggested we tell spooky stories over candle flames.
Trevor didn't know any. We compromised by agreeing to read Edgar Allen Poe in the dark. I pick 'The Masque of the Red Death'. Trevor poured one of the goodies bags that I had filled earlier that week with Halloween candy out on to our coffee table as I placed our Edgar Allen Poe book on the candle 'alter'. We both greedily scarf one of the treats and I sweep their wrappers in my hand to throw away. Trevor jumps up and snatches the wrappers from my hands telling me not to go into the kitchen Slightly confused, I obliged Trevor's request and remain seated. It was a touch chilly, so I stood up to snatch the pillows and blankets off our bed. Trevor, again, quickly hops up and fetches them; yelling from the other room to go ahead with the story. I give Trevor a quizzical look as he enters the room with the pillows and blankets slung over his shoulder. "Go ahead, sweetie", he says. I shrug my shoulders and start reading the tale. Mid-way through Poe's room descriptions, Mama Roth calls. Trevor tells me to ignore the call, but I pick-up since she knew we were waiting for information.
As she was telling me the extent of the back-out, I notice the microwave's clock reflecting in our kitchen window. The power was back. It had been back for ten minutes.
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