crash

At 3:15, I heard the unmistakable bang and screech of a car accident on the corner. I resisted the tempation to run out and look like all the children in the courtyard. I knew I wouldn't be able to help and, well, the memory of my own accident over two and a half years ago still makes my blood run cold.

At 3:18, I heard the siren.

At 3:19, the police arrived.

I guess that's why we pay taxes.

There haven't been any more sirens, so hopefully that means there were no injuries, though I am still praying.

Now they need to use some more of those tax dollars to put in over-street lights, instead of the short little posts on the corners that we currently have.

posting

must...post...more...often...!

I'm working on it. There are still boxes stacked next to my desk from the move into my new apartment, but the rest of the place looks halfway decent. Okay, it looks pretty good. I'll have to have a party and everyone who comments on this post can be invited. Just kidding. I'm not comment happy like that.

The worst part about having a bigger living space is finding things. I never understood why my mom loses her keys. When all I had was my bedroom, I never lost them. There were maybe two places they could be. Now I lose everything. Sure, some of it is the post-move debris cluttering up good places-to-set-things, but I think the bulk of the problem is that I have three more rooms to look in. Okay, I guess I'd be really dumb if I left my keys (or my phone, or my purse) in the bathroom, but you never know.

The best part of the bigger living space is dancing. Now that the post-move debris is mostly in the dumpster, I can dance all around the big hardwood floors. The living room is particularly good for pirouettes.

I'll put up some pictures soon.

fact of the day

Double entry bookkeeping was invented by a magician. I wish he'd make my taxes disappear. A la peanut butter sandwiches!

Man, I really miss being four some days.

Real entry soon to come.

reality, age three

In one of my education classes, the teacher likes to go off-topic and go on and on about how tv is bad for little kids because they need to experience the real, 3-d world in order for their little brains to develop, which, of course, reminded me of being three.

Remember the old 1970 tootsie pop commercial? When I was a very small being, I didn't realize that commercials repeat. So I thought that the dumb kid kept giving his candy to that meanie bird with a funny hat who never counted the licks properly, the cheating scumbag. I tried yelling at the kid to warn him that the owl was a conniving candy thief. When that didn't work, I nailed the owl on the head with a toy. To this day I still get miffed at that blasted owl.

(If you can't get the youtube, here are the storyboards to the original commercial)