Ditherings

This afternoon after yet another group of doom and gloom clouds rolled in, I found myself seated with one foot resting on the very cool exterior of my computer (which happens to be on the floor under my desk) my other leg folded under me, my shirt sleeves rolled up, my window open and i was warm. For the last 6 months i have been frozen solid, and today, for some reason, it is warm out. Still dark mind you, but warm. Perfect for growing mushrooms. Were the sun to actually show itself, i might, for an instant be happy...Okay, who am I kidding? I would still be cantankerous and frustrated with everything. But it would feel less so, were the sun to come out. Yes, yes it would.

I am now, at this moment, wearing an ill fitting pair of jeans and a cozy top, typing out this blog wishing, very fervently, that i: 1) spoke Spanish 2) possessed a penis 3) had a handgun; because i would go next door, shut off the rabble rousing music that is blaring, announce that i've had enough of the noise making and threaten all of them with deadly force if it continues one minute more. *Sighs* Sadly, all of the complaining i've done about living in the South, imports have followed me here. Night after night, evening after evening, i am accosted with loud, incoherent Hispanic rap, or in this case, tonight it seems to be hip hop. They are, as i write this, playing basketball, and whooping and hollering. The basketball itself has more than once now, hit the side of my house, and also smash banged into the front of the garage door that the hoop is hung on. I am not a happy camper.

I am not the only member of this household suffering discontent. My furry ones, Fred Frank and Carminski the Russian Spy are not impressed with our current living conditions either. One day last week, i arrived home and my welcoming committee was not waiting at the door. Concerned, i began searching through the house, including the basement, fearing that they'd somehow either gotten out or worse. The last place i looked was the bathroom, which they shouldn't have been able to get into, because i had left the door shut. *Shouldn't have been able to get in* I discovered the door not latched, and inside: my two felines. I've taken to keeping its door shut because Fred has decided to express her displeasure by leaving #2 presents in the bathtub. Yes, that is disgusting, i wholeheartedly agree. The funny part is, that when i chastised her for the doodie, she looked at Carminski, as if to say, "it wasn't me, it was him" to which i promptly responded: "nice try dummy, he's tiny and makes little poops"