It happened

I’m going to stop asking questions.

We were robbed two nights ago.  Our office was broken into.  Honestly, I felt like it could happen at any time and probably would.  I’m even kind of glad I had chronicled the “goings-on” in my blog.  Turns out it doesn’t matter in the first place because the neighbor kids already have records.  Breaking into cars, theft, and apparently other “crimes” they are being investigated in.

It was CSI: La Plata in here yesterday as they fingerprinted the wall and window in which they came in.  $1000 laptop and docking station, gone.  Financial records and over 500 pictures on said laptop, also gone.  What a shame.

It takes about two weeks to get the print results back, so until then, we’ll wait.  But I think it’s safe to make assumptions at this point.

Oh and they are out in 30 days.  Gone.  Like the laptop.

Are you kidding me?

Well, I’ve barely had downtime since I wrote my last post, but holy geez.  I’m sitting at my desk and my boss walks in and says, “Did you see that?”  I, being a good lil’ laborer, was actually working kind of diligently so I can get the hell out of here, didn’t see a thing.  We had a visit… from the police.  Yay!  Actually, they’re still here now.  Arresting the PASSED-OUT TEENAGER LYING IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR DRIVEWAY.  One day it’s marijuana, the next it’s birth control, and the same day, it’s a person.  An underage person.  An underage, inebriated person.  Lying in our driveway.  In the middle.  Where the cars drive.

I’m scared to ask this, but really, what will happen next????

There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one…

This morning I found a little turquoise packet on the ground outside of the office.  I already knew what it was, but I had to double-check.  Yep, birth control pills.  At least they were all used!

What will I find next??!!??

Little Boxes on the Hillside

My office is not like a regular office. We own a small compound of 2 apartments and 2 little houses that we rent out. Our office is another very small house that has no interior walls- it’s open and my computer is on one side and my boss’s is on the other. We are the first building when you drive into the little compound and we share a large driveway with the people who live in the next house over. The driveway holds about 4 cars comfortably, or as you’ll read later, 17.

We rent the next house over to a woman and her son. I think he’s her son. He’s no younger than 16 and no older than 20, maybe. Except he wasn’t going to school when it was in session, so maybe he’s at least 18. Or a dropout. The woman has a reputation around our small town. That’s as much as I’m going to say on that. The son has about 14 friends over a day, and I’m not exaggerating. One day, I counted and there were 13 different people in and out of that house all day. I’m not here on weekends, but I can’t imagine what kind of party house this place turns into when on any given Tuesday it’s practically the hottest spot in L.A. P. Skateboarders, cars with those stupid spoliers, bikes, they’ll use anything to get here and then block my car in. As you can tell, I’ve just loved having them here. End back story.

Yesterday, my boss and I were both quietly working when out of nowhere, he walked outside and quickly back in. I had in my earbugs listening to the radio when he got my attention and stood over my desk. I removed my earbugs and he asked, “Do you know what this is?” In his hand was a bright green mini-Ziploc stuffed to the brim with pot! Stuffed. Falling out over the top of the bag. Some IDIOT literally just wasted a ton of money and possibly got themselves in trouble at the same time. My mouth dropped and he said, “Yeah I know!” We laughed for a second and then deduced that someone must have dropped it. Probably someone from next door. Stupids.

We didn’t know what to do with it. He suggested going over to the tenant’s house and asking if it belonged to her. I wanted to smoke it. Kidding, I don’t do that anymore. OK I wanted to sell it. We smelled it and boy, was it stinky (that means it’s good.) It was kind of funny, but we didn’t want to throw it out. That would be a waste. So instead, it’s now just sitting on his desk, stinking up our small office. His desk is more buried in paperwork than mine is, so I just hope he doesn’t forget it’s there.

Observations

Things of notice over the past few days:

1) Dave Matthews Band’s live version of Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer” is fucking as good as it sounds.

2) To never underestimate the learning ability of children.

3) People are still spelling the word LOSE “loose”.

4) If you really love something, like coffee ice cream or gambling, it’s still always best to describe it as “wanting to take it behind the middle school and getting it pregnant.”

5) 10-pound babies don’t want to come out on their own.

6) Drunk texting your friend in L.A. while he is DJ’ing and giving him song ideas is fun and stupid at the same time.

7) I need to start tapping more because I miss it immensely.

People who talk too much about themselves or their husbands can ruin your day, but not if you don’t let them.

9) I may be better at monologues than I thought I was.

10) Having crabs twice a week for the past three weeks truly is a privilege and I’m a lucky, lucky girl!

RIP Cyd Charisse

Cyd Charisse, an amazing dancer and vintage Hollywood performer, passed away yesterday from a heart attack.  I wrote a whole, long thing about how I loved her and revered her style of dance, using words like “passion” and “grace” and “fire”, but then I deleted it all and decided to just post one of my most favorite scenes of her dancing.  She was an unbelievable match for partners like Gene Kelly and Fred Astaire, but she was the most fascinating and alluring as a soloist.  If you have 2 minutes to spare, watch the video below.  You can practically read the story being told through the music and the dance just by watching her expressions, and that’s what made her a true triple threat.

Favorite Cyd Charisse fact: She was 5′6 (like me!), but she was always thought to be taller due to her long legs.

Cyd Charisse in Silk Stockings

Not Always Right

I’m hopelessly tapped of creativity right now, so I’ve just been posting things I find funny.  Anyway, KPK turned me on to this site and anyone who knows what it’s like to deal with people, especially customers, will find it rewarding.  It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one that wants to drive a blunt letter opener in my eye after a customer service call!

Excerpt:

Was It Something I Said

Phone Company | Las Vegas, NV, USA

Me: “411 Information.”

Customer: “Wait a minute…”

*papers rustling around*

Customer: “I thought I had that here…”

*long pause, more rustling*

Customer: “Just a sec…”

*several seconds of silence*

Customer: “Never mind, you sound stupid.”

*hangs up*

Insert Sex Euphemism Here

Tech Support | Vancouver, BC, Canada

(I get a lot of funny calls, and most of the time, I can stay calm and professional through the call. This is the only one I’ve had where I needed to hit the ‘mute’ button. Thankfully, he was talking about the website–I eventually needed to dispatch a tech.)

Me: “Thanks for calling Internet Tech Support, Emily speaking.”

Customer: “Yeah, I was looking at this porn site, and now I can’t get it up anymore.”

Me: “…”

Inspiration of the Week

It’s really too good to take down for now.  So it stays up another week and maybe even the whole month.  It’s festive and fitting for those hot days of June.

Ew

The last post is a little funky due to something that has nothing to do with me and my wit or charm and probably everything to do with the computer.  Anyway, if you can muddle through it, it’s funny.

Wasting Away: Common Attributions

I’m in love with GraphJam. It’s hilarious and a time-killer. I don’t really have time to kill right now, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.  Here are a few of my favorites:

Things are looking up

Things have been a little hectic lately and I was getting sick of writing bitchy posts, so I just stopped altogether.  However, things are getting a little better, and it really seems like they started to turn around when I went blond.  Ok not completely blond, but blonder.  I’ve never been this fair-haired before, so it’s new to me, and I like it.  I won’t talk bad about blondes anymore.  Well, for now.

Anyway, the show’s getting better and more organized, certain other aspects of life are falling more into place, and my job is finally starting to slow down a bit.  So yeah, all in all, not bad.  Oh and Indiana Jones was quite enjoyable.

Oh for God’s sake!

Wednesday Night Off

I am very drained.  Emotionally, physically.  Mentally.  I’m spent.  Last week lasting into yesterday (Tuesday) was absolute hell.  Work every day until 5.  Theatre at 6 and then done there at 10.  Heading home, trying to sleep at 12.  Actually falling asleep at 3.  Not being able to close my eyes because all I would see was the worst.  I was hoping that this weekend was going to be a bit of a relief, but it was just as stressful, if not more.  Each day was filled to the brim and when I wasn’t moving, my brain was trying to process the grief and properly mourn.  No such luck.  I was a giant bitch to everyone who spoke to me.  Hated the fact that I was that way, wanted to shout, “MY FRIEND’S DEAD”, but really… you can’t do that.  Knew better.  Monday was hell.  Yesterday was better, filled with lounging around, watching mindless television, and even sharing a few laughs.  Still am only eating one meal a day until this anxiety subsides, but the beer fills you up.  Only time will fix this, gotta hang in there until it does. 

On a lighter note…

This week has been shit, so I was looking forward to seeing my kids this morning, as kids will always provide you with the brutal truth, the funniest stories, and the best one-liners around.  As I was walking into my class, 2 kids were kissing (boys, not that there’s anything wrong with that.)  In this PC age, teachers don’t want ANY kids kissing because, you know, 3 year olds may have sex and then “babies having babies” approaches this whole new level.  So they tell the kids, “We don’t kiss our friends, only our mommies and daddies.”  To which they always reply, “What about our sisters?” or “What about our grandma?” or “What about our second cousin’s hairdresser’s sister’s boyfriend’s goldfish?” because you know, they’re kids and they’re damn inquisitive.

One little girl asked me today, “What about our marries?”  At first, I thought, what?  Yeah, she meant her husband, which yeah, she’s 5 and I’m guessing she meant her boyfriend-of-the-day in her preschool class.  I laughed inside when I realized that kids think their spouses are called their “Marries” and then I realized that this 5 year old was thinking (albeit, childishly- pardon the pun) about marriage.  While she probably had no idea what really goes on, the fact that she’s old enough to pick up on these kinds of things freaked me out.  So I calmly replied, “No.  Kissing’s gross, so don’t do it at all.  Ever.  Yuck.”

Gone

Sadly, I got to answer my question yesterday.  RIP.