All Saints' Day

My neighbor got me drunk on Friday night. C calls me up at about 2pm while I'm busting ass fixing all the horrible mistakes I made in a page for Prof. CM, cursing myself and hating my life.

"I just opened a big bottle of wine, come on over." She says.

Well, how right neighborly like.

I tell her to give me a few minutes to finish up what I'm working on. At about 3 I go over and she's happily drinking wine and playing with her 1 year old, who simply worships me. We chat, we laugh. We play with dolls. We drink the whole damn bottle of wine. The kids come home from school. Her daughter E goes over my house to play with Jessica. We continue to drink wine.

I'm shitfaced by 5pm.

I spend about an hour here at the computer, drinking water and trying to get the buzz down to a low roar, surfing blogs and laughing. Tina at "The Other Cheek" dared me to blog while intoxicated. I considered it and passed on the suggestion. I could probably say things that would get me in lots of trouble.

I get the distinct impression my neighbor is bored as hell being a stay at home mom up here in the woods when she was accustomed to living in Salem, working in Marblehead, and having lots of other people home around her. Play groups for the kids, people to dump the baby on at short notice so she can run to Wal-Mart (or the wine store).

She said every Friday afternoon all the girls in the neighborhood down there would get together when the kids got home from school, drink, watch TV, talk, and let the kids go nuts in the yard. She misses that. I can't say I'll do that EVERY Friday afternoon, but I had a lot of fun. And, I am almost done fixing the mess I made on CM's site, so I felt it was an okay diversion for the afternoon.

Saturday I wanted to stay in bed. Not because of a hang over mind you (I was entirely sober by about 8pm, so getting the drink on early in the day made a big difference... I thought it was kind of bizarre to wake up on Saturday morning and be ... fine.

I wanted to stay in bed because it was a very warm and lovely place. Fall was falling outside my window. The wind was blowing, and it was raining yellow leaves everywhere in the sunshine. It was sheer bliss. I had Kinger dog on my bed curled up next to me, I wasn't moving anywhere.

Doug then reminded me we were supposed to go to Boston to see Bonnie and Duncan and Chloe.

I also remembered I'd been invited by Carrie to a babyshower for the wonderful and talented Elizabeth, but hadn't committed to whether or not I'd go. I then realized why I'd been noncommittal... knowing in the recesses of my mind that I already had some sort of plans but not knowing what they were... I need to start keeping a regular calendar so I know what is going on from week to week, day to day, and I won't have to have this constantly confused feeling between my ears.

So we did go to Boston. After watching Bottle Rocket on Comedy Central where they "edited" James Caan's line about Bob's brother into him being a "cockroach." That made me laugh, knowing that he wasn't saying "cockroach" in the real version.

Again -- I love that movie. Owen Wilson is genius. And Luke Wilson is just nice to look at for some reason.

Anyway.

There was a bit of miscommunication between me and Bonnie -- I thought she was interested in GOING on a geocache with us in her neighborhood (there are like 3 right near her house). She thought we would come visit and go DO a geocache when we were done visiting. So it was kinda funny. Classic.

We spent a couple good hours with the three of them, Chloe was enthralled with the kids, and the feeling was mutual.

Geoff wants a little brother and has asked me repeatedly if one can come live with us. I reminded him that Chloe is 15 months old, and that a little brother or sister wouldn't be any fun until he was about 8 and by then, well, I bet he'd feel totally different about having a sibling in the house younger than him.

He still wants one. Perhaps we just need to spend more time with Chloe. Just look at her and you'll want to spend time with her as well.

Miss Chloe says, yo.

Geoff was yelling "Take a picture of me with Chloe! Take a picture of me with Chloe!" So... I took a picture of him with Chloe. I love how the late afternoon light comes into their living room. It's so pretty. The kids look... glowy. Glowy Chloe.

And this one is special. She's all like "what are you lookin' at?" Diva in training.

Jessica stars as guest reader (and above as guest puppeteer)
at the Chloe Entertainment Facility, Boston, MA.
It is evidenced here that she would make a good big sister, again.
But won't get the chance, so she may as well just do a good job being a
good friend to all my buddy's kids.

It was a great visit indeed, and we did go do a geocache, but it was pimpy easy. It was in the Arnold Arboretum, and it was so close to the Bussey St. Gate that it hardly seemed worth the bother. Well. Yes it was, just to put another notch in the side of the GPS. We were in and out of there in less than a half hour.

Geoff had to climb under the tree and pull this one out.
Once in a while it pays off to have a very small person with you on your Geocache Team.

Today was Sunday. Church was extra long and sort of dull... and everyone seemed to be not quite in gear, all the cylinders weren't firing for us. Father M from South Africa did the service, and he read everyone's name that had been submitted to the church secretary for the prayers for the saints. It seemed to go on forever, and it was soothing to listen to his voice, his accent, reading all these names. Then, he read names of his family and friends... and there were a few younger kids in the congregation kind of laughing at him, because the African last names combined with his accent were... sort of amusing. I couldn't tell if he was irritated or not. I would have been. I wonder if he goes home and shakes his head, muttering that we're all a bunch of white idiots.

He really should.

I was very excited to see he is ministering our Christmas services. He is really cool, and fun to listen to. He is very very English, sings a beautiful tenor, and I think that Christmas will be very interesting this year.

Everyone's in bed now. I should go myself. Bonnie and Duncan loaned me Helen Fielding books and the new one by Nick Hornby (bwa! I accidentally typed Horny instead of Hornby. How hysterically funny is that?) and I'm feeling rather lethargic... time to turn in. It's a busy week next week, complete with an early release day for Jessie's school and a doctor's appointment and field trip for Geoff (which I volunteered to chaperone. Again -- what am I thinking?!)

A busy weekend and a party

Aaron called us on Friday. They were coming down this way for a wedding and wanted to hang with us after, spend the rest of the weekend with us as it were... Back Labor Day weekend they were supposed to come by, but it turned out they didn't even come down after all.

We were psyched. Always nice to see them... so they got here Saturday afternoon while I was out at Dan and Honey's babyshower. Doug stayed home to wait for Aaron and Michelle. I didn't want to take Geoff, he usually isn't well behaved at social events where he isn't the star. I should have brought him -- Ben played with all the kids (I bet his new girlfriend absolutely loved watching that. He's so cute when he's with them...) and the kids got all good and worn out. But if I had, then he may not have made it through the evening with our visitors. Here are some quick pics from the shower:

Here's Dan doing some last second cleaning up in the yard. He missed a few doggie deposits. We made a lot of fun of him -- not only is he colorblind, he's dogshit blind.	The lovely expectant parents...
My buddy Brian's daughter riding one of the gifts the baby received -- an elephant rocking "horse". In Thailand, elephants are lucky. This made Honey almost cry...	Another shot of Brian's girl, showing me her manicure. She's a hot ticket, this one...
	Me and Jessie at one of those armlength picture shots.

Jessie and I had a great time with the whole gang. We left a half hour later than I'd wanted to, mostly due to Honey not getting to the party on time. When we pulled in the driveway, Doug, Aaron, Geoff and Michelle were heading out to Pedro Diego's, a mexican joint in Haverhill. So we all went along, had a great dinner, drank WAY too much sangria (it all hit me hard when I got home, I barely made it to bed).

We had a lot of good laughs. Aaron picked on Geoff and it was fun. It's always fun to be with Aaron and Michelle and I hate that we don't see them often enough.

Aaron was in rare form... made all kinds of crazy suggestions to Geoff, like make a scary face for mom! This was the result.	Geoff actually looks great in this picture, but Aaron is a mental case! Too bad he didn't smile nice.
Doug and Michelle sat on the other side from us (Doug and I are flanking the kids, so we didn't sit together). They behaved quite normally through the meal, instead of like weirdos. Like Aaron.	Aren't they the loveliest couple. Especially with this wall paper! Ewwww!
Jessie took this one -- too bad Geoff is hiding.
And we got the waitress to take this one... she was really interested in the camera, we spent about 20 minutes yakkin' with her about digital photography.

Next morning we decided a little Geocaching would take the edge of the hangover off of us. We had a light breakfast of toast and coffee, lots and lots of water, and went and did two geocaches right near our house. One of them is at Winnekenni Castle, where Doug and I were going to put one! So we are kinda disappointed that it's there... we still may put one in there but way back on the trail on the far side of the pond. People can do them in tandem.

The other one was on the north side of the Merrimack River in the Meadowbrook conservation area. We were home by 3, and Aaron and Michelle hit the road. They are still in the process of moving stuff out of their old apartment, and Aaron had homework to do. So they figured they'd better hightail it out of there.

When we told Geoff where we were headed, he got his knight's helmet out. He loves to come up here, and he decided he was going to save the princess. So here he is guarding the castle... watch out!
This was Michelle's very first geocache. Doug gave her the GPS... she lead us right to it.	I am MOJO JOJO! Mojo came home with Michelle as her take from the cache.
	Mojo also got to hang out on the Dudley Porter fountain, which we'd never seen before. It was pretty cool.

I felt great after geocaching -- no longer hung over, and quite happy. Doug on the other hand passed out and was down for the afternoon.

The rest of my Sunday was spent at another social gathering without my husband, this time at a neighbor's house. Our friends Shelley and Steve hosted a little neighborhood cook out. We live around the corner from them, but most of the people there are from over beyond their house, I didn't know hardly any of them.

I met some wonderfully nice new people -- very funny and intelligent. Lots of little kids. Good beer and wine, good chicken divan.

I amused them with my wit, entertained them with my parenting skills (Geoff was picking on a girl named Devon who goes to our church and the two of them have a history. She doesn't deal well with being picked on, and he loves to get a reaction... fuel to a fire).

The rain held off and when it did start raining we sat under a really nice tree in their yard, mostly sheltered but for a few drops.

Shelley has the most amazing garden. And I love sitting in their yard. So the rain didn't bother me in the least. Football last night... it wasn't exciting enough to hold my attention. I was painfully exhausted and fell asleep 5 minutes into the Steelers' game. I woke up at halftime, crawled to bed.

Maddie and her new kitten, Jigsaw. Their old cat, Uncle Bobby, doesn't really care for this young upstart. I love Uncle Bobby. He's the best cat. He meows to me when I walk down the street, and if I say hello to him, he comes running. This one is still too wild to get to know well.

Another example of Shelley's garden work. It was too dark out, with the storm coming, to take good pictures of the garden. Notice all the leaves on the ground behind the table there... I'm not ready for it to be fall yet. These sunflowers are all over the place right now, thanks to Shelley. Our church front yard, her yard -- the street is filled with happy little faces dancing in the breeze...

---

When I got up this morning I noticed that I had hit something yesterday with the car. The bottom fender on the front passenger's side is all caved in. I pulled a U turn at a wrong entrance for Meadowbrook, and must have hit a rock. I didn't feel it when it happened, sort of aware of running over something but I thought it was a sandbar in the parking lot.

Doug was pissed at me when he saw it. I hope it can get fixed. We've had that car 2 years almost and hadn't gotten a ding or a scratch on it.

Today I've been busting my ass on Professor CM projects. He's got a meeting this afternoon with one of the people he was hired by to do a website for... he had me do most of the work while he gathered the content. I had the text and layout of the site put together, but no graphics... so when I got email this morning saying they were on for a 3pm meeting, I panicked... I slammed as much together as quickly as possible. I was so busy that I didn't notice it had started pouring like mad, and the dogs were out in the pen in the yard... I heard the rain finally as it was hitting Jessica's airconditioner, making that artillery sound rain makes when hitting hollow metal. I ran out to get them. They were drenched and sad.

Oh did I feel awful. Nothing worse than the look on a dog's face when you've forgotten them in the rain.

They're sleeping now... I need to get a shower and do some housework. I already feel like this week is getting pissed away and it isn't even started yet.

Friday night I'm supposed to work for Cateringman at a function. They are doing a big event for Ducks Unlimited, over 500 people are going to be there, so all the staff is on call. I just remembered that -- and we were going to go to NY for the weekend to see my sister. I have no idea how we are going to work this one. I have to talk to Doug and figure it all out.

I hate my life when it's busy.

Alright -- to care for my house and my body now. More later.

Cu-SeeMe problems; new neighbors

The above is what we expected to experience. But that is not at all what we got. "Well. Isn't that special?" I'm totally going to come off like the Church Lady in this entry. But let me tell you what -- I saw stuff today I didn't plan on seeing. Let me 'splain.

I just got home from my meeting down at the college. We did a test run of Cu-SeeMe on the lab computers. A major part of Professor MF's class is having student interact in cyberspace, as if they were sitting right next to one another. There aren't many products out there that we can see, so we contacted these guys. Initially they were all into helping us. Then they said it would cost us some dosh to set up a private room.

We don't have the money to shell out for it... in fact, most of the work I've done has been done unpaid. I just want to see it all happen. So the tech guy, I'll call him Mr. CuSeeMe, suggested to us that we run a public room and have someone serve as gatekeeper, kicking people out. I guess that will be my job. Sounded reasonable.

Professor MF, W. the LabLady and her assistant L. and I met. They got the cameras installed, downloaded the Cu-SeeMe, and we set up a public room.

All four of us were in there, the audio delay to the streaming video was annoying the hell out of me, but whatever -- Professor MF really wants it all to work. So she wasn't as annoyed by it as I was.

People were trying to join our room, as we anticipated. I was on the ready. As the room creator, I had the opportunity to zap or accept new entrants to the room. I was zapping people out left and right, but after about a half hour, zapping began to fail.

Suddenly, "Dieters" joins the room, and has his ... unit ... ahem... in his hands... I zapped him and zapped him, finally sent him a text message that told him to get the fuck out post haste because this was a G rated room and I was notifying CuSeeMe staff right there and then.

He left quickly.

Then, Magdalena15 got in the room. She and her vagina. Oh boy. She had the camera right up to it, was on her knees, and then... Dieters must have come over for a visit because suddenly there was a cock... right ... there entering the very special shaved space that was Magdalena15. Well isn't THAT special...???

Who's penis is that? Could it be... SATAN'S?!!??

And like a bunch of little schoolgirls, We all started screaming.

All four of us. In a mix of hysterics, disgust, fear, revulsion... and I started hitting the zap button as quickly as I could.

Who goes into a G rated discussion group and gets it going on doggie style with a web cam held in one hand? Obviously Magdalena15. And her friend Dieters.

Zapping wasn't doing it for us. She wouldn't go away. We minimized her window after the initial shock wore off just to get her off the screen so we could focus on what we needed to get done.

Still more people were trying to "come" into our room. I was zapping people left and right. L. got into a discussion with some guy on text messaging, who had no shirt on (he was ready to go but wanted to talk first, I guess) and she was laughing her ass off. I kept zapping him and yelling at her. Finally I zapped her.

We had a hell of a good laugh.

She came back in, we all made jokes repeatedly about these people "coming" into our interpersonal communication class. And were they ever giving new meaning to Interpersonal Communications. We made jokes about people putting their slots in one of our available slots (only 12 screens are visible at a time)...

We laughed ourselves silly.

Good God. I lead a crazy life, don't I? Never a quiet moment. And Professor MF kept saying "remember, this isn't just us looking at porno. This is for EDUCATION's sake. For the higher mind..."

And for the naked ass!

We laughed some more.

---

As I predicted, Geoff came home from school today thinking "the girls" would be next door and he would be able to go play with them. Our new neighbors are already moving in. They are from Salem, moved out here after selling their 2 family house for a ton of money. They moved from a 6 room apartment to an 11 room single family with 4 acres of land for 325,000. They are very happy. I think they paid too much, but if they made a killing on their place in Salem, they're all set.

She told me they're having a kegger next weekend. We're SO invited. Very different than the neighbors who just left this morning. They seem really wicked cool, but also a little wild. She's got a huge tattoo around her bellybutton... and had her white Tshirt tied up in a big knot to show it. I totally think my upstairs tenant and the dad are going to gel. He likes motor bikes and snowmobiling, and that's what Pete is all about. So it may be a great match for us. She's wicked friendly, they're over there moving in and drinkin' beers.

They have 2 little girls. One is 5. Same age as V., only Geoff is pissed to hell that she "stole V.'s house and kidnapped her." He is convinced that they are usurpers. I told him repeatedly that V. and E. were moving and would be gone when he got home. He was all about ignoring me. I'm some sort of liar.

Pile upon that the fact that Dan and Honey came and took Tiger and Buddy home. Voof. He's pissed.

Jessica has been over the neighbor's with her friend Megan since getting home from school. They are playing with the little girls, E. and G., and are having a blast... so Geoff is now out playing with them. I think he may warm up to E. eventually.

In the meantime, I miss V. I didn't think I would care that much, but meeting the new people makes me miss our little British Queen. The way she'd boss Geoff around. Her lisp. Her big grey eyes. Her excited way of telling me whatever little detail of some thing that she could any chance possible. The way she would call between the 7 foot tall fence to me "Mrs. Geiger! Mrs. Geiger! Can Geoff come play?"

I cried on my way down to my meeting with Professor MF. I needed a reason. Sometimes you just do.

Well, it's almost 6pm. Dinner should be made. Doug is napping. I'm working for cateringman tomorrow. I sent an email to Mr. CuSeeMe to ask him what we can possibly do to prevent mulitple penii and vaginii from "coming" into our public room... hopefully I'll hear back from him.

Don't people have anything better to do in the middle of the day on a Tuesday? Jebus

moving day for the neighbors

My neighbors are moving.

And I'm not heartbroken or sad about it. To the largest extent. We didn't start out on good footing with one another. They put a big fence up between our houses that screamed "Don't come over here" to us in a big way. Whether or not they intended that, in two years we've spent hardly any time with them.

Not a big deal. It's okay. Sometimes neighbors just don't gel. Just because you live next door to one another doesn't mean you're destined to be best friends. I didn't expect to become best friends with them. And my expectations certainly were met. I was friendly with them... and they have two lovely little girls who got along well with my kids.

And they'll be gone for good by the time I get back from taking Geoff to school. He doesn't realize they are leaving, or, refuses to accept it. The girls came over this morning to say goodbye, and he was playing school and told them to sit down and learn that two and two is four. I gave V., the oldest one, a copy of a picture Geoff painted last week because she saw it on the table and liked it so much.

I put our address on the back and told her to send us a Christmas card. I will be surprised if I get one.

A few weeks ago, when Michael On Wheels visited, the girls came over to play. They were curious about Michael, and it turned into an all day play fest. It was fun. I wish we'd had more days like that.

During that play fest, V. married Geoff in a lovely backyard ceremony conducted by Jessica. They came tearing in the house yelling "We got married! We got married! We're going on our honeymoon!!!" and they ran into Geoff's room and slammed the door.

Worried that V. might know more about what happens on an actual for real honeymoon than Geoff knows, I opened the door to look in. They were jumping on the bed.

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're on our honeymoon, Mrs. G"

"Really? Are you doing anything special?"

"Yeah! This is it! This is what you do on a honeymoon!"

She got that right. You run into a room and jump up and down on a bed. Carry on! Keep dressed. Have a nice time!

She bosses Geoff around as if she were really his wife. We looked out into the back yard later that day and he was reposed upon his back, hands folded behind his head, looking at the sky while she lectured him, wagging a finger for added impact.

Yup. That's what it would be like if they were 20 years older and married.

So my "daughter in law" and her little sister are going away. We'll see if we hear from them again. The girls came over to say goodbye before the bus came. Took a few pictures, just so I'll remember them.

Yesterday was Geoff's first day of school. The first official day of Kindergarten. It felt like any other day dropping him off at the preK/K where he is going. I guess not seeing him off on a bus makes it seem so routine. He has the same teacher he had when he was 3, but only for the next month. His actual teacher is out on medical leave and will be back in September. So Ms. Sandi will be his guide. She said he had a great day yesterday, and it all sounded like fun. He seemed really happy but very tired when I brought him home. He was in bed by 8:30.... 9:00ish.

Jessica starts today. She agreed to wear a skirt. I discovered that she hates dresses, but for some reason loves skirts. So... I'll be buying her skirts for dressing up occasions in life. When we went school shopping she picked out this lovely black canvas skirt which goes almost floor length, and has a slit up the front to her knees. We bought a nice red short sleeved dressy T shirt, and she wore her hair up in a black scrunchie. She looked so grown up. I was brushing her hair for the ponytail, and she had on her shoes and is just about the same height I am in my bare feet. It almost made me cry.

We fussed with her hair and put a necklace on her, and she almost missed the bus. She was walking out the front door and I was about to take her picture when the bus pulled up and honked. She started running for it, and I offered to drive her, but she said she'd make it.

She did. She waved to me as the bus drove past. I could have taken her picture then, but just watched her instead. One year left of elementary school for her, then she's off to middle school, up an hour earlier, and home an hour earlier. I think it's wrong that middle school and high school start so early and the kids get home so early. Gives them plenty of non-parent time to get themselves in trouble.

Hopefully we won't have to worry about that with either one of these kids.

So I've got to get Geoff out the door. The benefit of him going to this school is the extended day. Doug picks him up around 3:45, and school starts at 9:30 but he could always come earlier if I get a full time job. The bummer is I have to drive him. But it gets me up and out the door.

Anyway -- that's all for now. Dan picks the dogs up tonight, I have a meeting down the college that I have to do work for this morning, so this is the muppet update from me until perhaps Thursday.

Enjoy your day.

Vacuum Cleaner; crazy marblehead neighbor

Yesterday I got home from my day of many adventures to find a wonderful thing.

The vacuum had arrived and had been test driven by Doug and Jessica. But I'll tell you more about that in a minute.

Yesterday was a road day. Some days just are. Instead of hangin' round the homestead, you use a ton of gas motoring around the northeast.

Geoff and I did our trip to his school, stayed for chapel, had a great time. His friends were really happy to see him, and he seemed... stunned. I think he was scared I would leave him there, so he tried to hang on me. I foisted him over to N and K and said "Those boys miss you, get over there and BE with them!" And all my little career advice giving friends were there to hug me and sit with me.

Geoff's teacher bothers me. I'm glad she won't be his teacher next year. She is SO strict with all the kids, I wanted to tell her to knock it off. The girls wanted to sit as close to me as possible, and were wriggling between my side and the side of whomever was sitting next to me. It was like sitting in a basket of puppies, puppies who love you... and she got after them and made them sit a foot away from me saying "She doesn't need people sittin' all over her." Jeesh. Sure I do! Someone lovin' me and wanting to hang out with me? Just 'cause yer stuck with'em all day doesn't mean I don't care to talk to them when I come visit. Man alive. So it is no wonder Geoff didn't get on with her well. Next year's teacher is pretty rockin' and cool, and I think Geoff will be fine with her.

He was with his last year's teacher, but she moved down to be with the 3 year olds. I was bummed at that.

She (Geoff's current teacher) was supposed to give me his artwork portfolio when we left, but she was on the phone, so I'll pick it up another time. She said it's all great stuff, and they did an art show the Friday before Mother's Day, but I didn't know about it. She acted like I should have. Duh? He's been out of school since fucking MARCH lady. My crystal ball is in the shop. You coulda called me and told me. Man.

Anyway.

After the trip to school we went to Beverly to go see Clayton's gravesite.

Pet Peeve here kids: When someone dies and is buried and you go to the cemetery, do me a favor and don't say things like "I'm going to see Grampa," or "I'm going to see... Fred." You're not seeing them in any way. You're seeing the dirt that covers them and it's a good thing too because I've seen movies like "Night of the Living Dead," and "Dawn of the Dead," and Michael Jackson's "Thriller." You don't want to see your dead friends and relatives. It's a good thing... they don't look well. So they're in the ground or the mausoleum, so you're going to see their gravesite. Got it?

You can use terms like, "I'm going to spend time with Aunt Sally," or "I'm going to go talk to dad..." just stay away from the Going To See thing. It irks me.

So we went to "spend time with" and I wanted Geoff to see where he was at the cemetery. We cleaned up all the old dead flowers. There were three or four bunches tucked into the ground around a little copper placename. The ground was recently seeded, and the seeds were dry and sad looking. It seems like they seeded yesterday, after all that great rain. Now the seeds are going to blow away or get eaten by sparrows. Seems kind of sad. So after tidying up a little, Geoff and I said a prayer and I had a good cry quietly while he sat in the car with his pokemon cards.

I realize that every time I go to Beverly now I'm going to be doing that. Stopping in to tidy up, make things look respectable. Pray and cry and move on my way.

We had lunch with good friends of mine from College who I haven't seen in quite a while. One of them is now a yoga teacher, and is quite funny and bohemian... typical post-evangelical college adulthood. Actually, she was all boheme in college too, which is why we got on so well. The other is running a Shakespearean camp for kids in Marblehead, MA, and is the BEST. I remember being the editor of an annual literary magazine at college one year and having her on my panel of reviewers. We sat on my bed on the top floor of the dorm I was living in, the oldest and least insulated room in the universe I might add, and we read poems and reviewed things together. I remember her reading one of mine (they were all anonymous, so unless you already knew the poem, you had no idea who submitted it) and she was gapemouthed in astonishment and praise for the stupid thing. It was funny to sit there and watch her read it and like it, and have no clue it belonged to me.

So catching up with them was absolutely delish, especially after spending time at the cemetery. It was good to reconnect, and there were promises made to spend time together this summer, and she needs a website for the theatre company, so perhaps we shall make one.

Methinks.

Then, we were on our way home and I decided to do two things. Swing by my old house in Marblehead, and swing by the college to visit the guys.

This was where we lived with Tony. Our happy second floor with the cool window box seats and horsehair plaster walls, orange bedroom (our fault) for Jessica, and lead paint. It's the only place I've ever lived that I cried when I left. I loved this house. After someone bought it, they fixed it up on the inside and out, and it is now gorgeous... not that it didn't have its own special unique charm back in the day. We didn't have the money to fix it up, nor did we have the money to buy it after Tony died. How I would have loved that... It still breaks my heart when I see it.

Here it is in 1994:

and here it is yesterday from a slightly different angle:

The forsythia is still thick on the corner, and I checked in back and my favorite rose bush in America seems to still be there too. They've done some nice patchwork on the stone fence, parts of it would cave in every spring and Doug and I would carefully place the stones back where we could.

And the piece of shit shed in the backyard, barely visible in yesterday's photo in the far left side behind the porch, is still there. I laughed when I saw it. It needed to be replaced in the 70s. So some things just don't get around to getting changed sometimes...

The people who bought it in 1995(?) are really nice. He's a carpenter, she's a school teacher. They've welcomed me into the house before, happily, joyfully. They weren't home yesterday though, so I didn't go in.

Sigh. I love this house! That's the porch where my daughter and Missy played. I've got shitloads of pictures from the winter and us digging the steps out. Watching the traffic on fourth of July after the fireworks over the harbor were done... on that porch, with a glass of wine. Such good memories. I wish we'd had the money then to buy it.

Okay, enough. I'm making myself so sad.

Interlude: Lovely Marblehead Neighbor

Two doors up to the left as you're looking at the front of this gorgeous old house is the home/office of a very successful Psychiatrist. I forget his name. Regardless. He was an ass (probably still is for all I know...).

He had a huge atrocious Bulldog, and daily would walk his dog around our house, up the one way street around to the backside where we parked our cars. He'd walk up the outer edge of our car park to the backside of the neighbor's property, and let his dog dump like mad.

He'd look around to make sure no one was looking, and he would casually read the morning paper. He always did this really early in the morning... and we'd come out to the car area to find a huge steaming pile of bulldog refuse waiting for us.

Able to help other people with their mental defects and psychosis, he obviously had several of his own.

One day, Doug decided he'd had enough, and saw the Good Doctor Dogshitter standing by our car, with said dog shitting up a storm. Doug went down to the street to confront him in person, and him to let him know the level of our displeasure with the shitfest that we got every day.

"Don't bring him around there to do that," said Doug.

"No one talks to me that way!" said the good Doctor Dogshitter.

"Well, I'm talking to you that way, and will continue to talk to you that way as long as you bring your dog around here to continue doing that!"

got this confrontational around foodstuffs!>

Doctor Dogshitter showed Doug that he had a bag to clean up after the big bulldog, which was a town law, and stated that whatever shit had been there before wasn't his dog's doings.

Thing was we saw him on several occasions walk away with the dog without cleaning up, simply folding his Boston Globe up under his arm... so we knew that once the dog was empty of shit, that the good doctor was then full of it.

It continued until one day Doug reached his threshold of tolerance and bull shit, and he went over, picked up several newer piles in a bag, and flung them into the man's driveway over his gate.

The dogshit discoveries stopped immediately.

Moving on... Seeing the guys was fun. They had no idea I was coming by, and it was fun to surprise them. Geoff loves them, they have all kinds of toys and snack and stuff to mess with... Geoff lovingly wrote "Braon isa losr" or, Brian is a Loser on the whiteboard by Brian's desk. He also wrote a large amount of numbers, backwards but in sequence, and said he was doing Brian's job. It cracked my shit right up. Ben and Dan took Geoff for a walk to the soda machine so I could spend time with My Rupa, whom I never hardly get to see, and it was a lovely time.

We got home, and met the new member of our family, the vacuum.

All I have to say is God Bless the South Korean Manufacturers, Designers and Constructors of my new Samsung Quiet Jet Vacuum.

It kicks major ASS.

It rocks any friggin' party.

It is sublime. It is surreal. It is delightful, delicious, delovely. It made my daughter's dirty ole nasty wall to wall carpeting look almost brandnew. Now, with a good shampooing, it will look as if Hastings Floor Covering was here yesterday instead of six years ago.

It vacuums hardwood floor. I used it in the kitchen and dining area. Our wood floors are dead old and totally have lost their finish and really need refinishing or replacing. When I go to wash them, the wood absorbs all the cleaner and water before I can even get whatever is on the floor off. But even though they look like utter shite, they look like better utter shite after being vacuumed. Huzzah!

And my room.

My room is pathetic. I have NO idea how old the carpeting is. It is this nasty old blue wall to wall, and in its heyday it was probably lovely. Seeing as our old vacuum never did a really good job of getting stuff off it, years of black dog habitation and messy human habitation have resulted in years of ... shit buildup.

Each time I've vacuumed lately it has been with my handheld Dirt Devil that my mom bought me in college. On my hands and knees. It isn't necessarily meant to be used as a complete floor solution, but it did an okay job.

Until today, I thought it did.

I vacuumed 50% of my room. The results are simply ass-spanking. I stood, agape with wonder, staring at the blue carpet saying "Jebus, this looks like a nice assed carpet for a change!"

One of the killer places in my room is under and behind the bed. We never move our bed. Ever. And this is what it looked like behind my husband's nightstand:

and then after:

I'm impressed. I hope to hell you are!

And yeah, I know, I know, I KNOW picture number one is so gross that you're probably curled up in the corner sneezing just after seeing it. And you have lost any and all respect for me that you may have maybe sort of had.

I've never pretended to be a good housekeeper.

I always clean AROUND obstacles rather than move them. So I was just as grossed out when I moved the table and saw this, and needed just as much antihistamine as you.

But it's over now.

Quiet Jet has come to live at my house, with its space age design, and it's super vac brush, and it's super suckability!

No more crazy dog hair infested rooms! No more dust bunnies the size of Corgies. It is the beginning of a new age of freedom in my home. I have not been so thrilled since the new Washing Machine came to be here. A new age of optimism! A new age of joy in the existence of technology and machines! God Bless America and the ability to buy stuff like a vacuum cleaner! Sniff. Weep. Wipe away tear.

Okay, enough. I'm being a total ass. I have gardening to finish, my daughter's bus will be home any second. Tonight is the first night in four nights that I don't have to be somewhere, so I'm gettin' me some beer and hanging out with my family. I sense a barbecue in my near future... I sense a quiet evening just hanging out. Aaaah. With clean carpeting.

More on Trains and Jakob Dylan

Yesterday's entry hit a nerve with some people, a funny nerve. I have received no less than five email and one phone call on the subject.

Taunia writes:

"Oh my head (pun intended!)

I just read your journal entry and I was cracking up out loud in my office. I have just forwarded the link to my friend M who heard me laughing.

I fortunately never had any penis incidents whilst on the train, but I SO feel your pain. The worst that ever happened to me was being on the green line and having a man touch my hair (it was really long and curly at the time). At first I didn't realize he was doing it - then I realized he was PETTING it.

Yikes. Anyhow - your story takes the cake for best train story EVER."

EVER, mind you. EVER!

hee hee.

---

Anyway, today's entry has nothing to do with wankers and trains. There was something I had in mind to write about today but the sleep of last night and a nice hot shower combined to wash it from my body, so I will have to invent something else. I could keep on the theme of travel and write about the bus ride Doug and I took from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to Ashland, Oregon in 1988. But there's so much to tell there that I'll save it for another day.

Instead I'll summarize yesterday's activities and today's plans. Then perhaps tonight I'll remember what I wanted to write about in the first place.

Yesterday I made a trip to the nursery (for plants, not chillen) and got morning glories and snap dragons and more pansies for the yard. My first swipe at garden plants wasn't nearly a big enough swipe and I found myself lacking in many places. The seeds I've sown in the yard didn't yield a sprout at all, so I bought plants.

I am never successful with seed planting, even if I start them in little containers and nurse them up. The closest success is this year I've got about a dozen sunflowers started in a little tray, and I'll wait another week or so and then move them into their homes to grow. So Geoff and I planted our flowers in the yard, and let me tell you boy plus dirt plus shovel equals FUN! This kid digs diggin'.

For dinner last night it was big assed lasagna, with sausages and tomato and basil sauce. I pushed one of the jars off the counter by accident and it did a 180 degree flip in mid air and landed opening down straight on the floor. That in and of itself wasn't bad. Cleaning up sauce I can live with doing that. When it hit the ground, the bottom of the jar, which was now apexed, shot straight off the jar. It was quite surreal. So there was broken glass all over, and I couldn't let the dog clean it up, which was my initial thought as I watched the jar fall off the counter. Sauce laced with bits of nasty glass would surely ruin his insides.

He was sorely dejected. Poor beast. The one time I drop something substantial enough to satisfy his never ending hunger, and I clean the whole thing up. There was no explaining to him. He wouldn't hear it and sulked away.

I then went to the college to work with the professor on her website. I was there until 7:30.

All told, it was a long, long day.

Today... Just showered, will finish garden plantings, and sort the baby food and diaper stuff that we collected at church to donate to the local pregancy care center and women's shelter. Then Geoff and I are going to his school to pick up all the artwork they had stored for a show, which I forgot to attend, and pay my balance and deposit for next fall. And today is chapel day, so we'll stick around for chape. Then we are having lunch with two old old friends from college down in Marblehead. Hopefully Geoff will be a good boy. I'll let him bring his pokemon.

---

My tenant has been playing this crappy Nikka Costa shit every damn day for the last week. Today she's played the same song 10 times. All you can hear is the bass line. I know it doesn't translate to print, but it goes:

"Bum Bum, BLA BLA BLAT. Bum Bum, BLA BLA BLAT. Badoom boom boom boom, bum bum ba da ba da, bum bum ba da ba da, bum bum ba da ba da, ba'da da da da. Bum Bum, BLA BLA BLAT. Bum Bum, BLA BLA BLAT...." and I can hear Nikka's voice ever so slightly shriekingly shrilling whining over the stupidest bass line in history. Gah. Talentless slob. She believes she's a diva. I bet VH1 will categorize her in a year or so with such other alleged Divas as Mariah and Celine. Meh! They all SUCK! She's the poster child for why "Clear Channel Communications" is evil... buying all the radio stations in the nation and marketing only bands that will agree to their terms. She's gotta have their feedback strapped on somewhere. She's talentless, annoying, shrieky and downright horrid. Enough that I'd vomit if I was forced to see her perform.

Watch her be the opening act next time I go see barenaked ladies. Ugh.

We on the other hand have been listening to The Wallflowers a lot lately. We've got their second album "Breach" and it's really good. Aside from the two hits they had off it, "Sleepwalker" and "Letters from the Wasteland," there are a few songs on that album that I just adore. "Some Flowers Just Bloom Dead," is an amazing song, and "I've Been Delivered" has these gems in the lyrics:

"I could break free from the wood of a coffin if I need, but nothin's hard as getting free from places I've already been ... I have drawn blood from the neckline when vampires were in fashion.
You know I'd even learn to cut my throat
If I thought I could fit in 'Cause I, I once heard that you gotta learn how to blend in to this mess
Where nothin's hard
nothin's precious and
nothin's smooth or flawless...
And I just wave back like a little boy up on a pony in a show
'cause I can't fix something this complex
any more than I can build a rose"

He may not be his dad, but Jakob Dylan has an amazing eye for imagery and storytelling. I'd love to see them live. A couple summers ago they toured with Counting Crows and we didn't go. I'm still kicking myself.

Anyway. We have got to go. Geoff raided the fridge and ate tonight's dessert. Hurrah.

termites

When last we joined our Amusing editor, the tenant upstairs was skeeved out by some flying ants in her livingroom, bedroom, kitchen and bath.

The humble narrator came back to her house, and looked about. Discovering her daughter's bedroom, which is right under the tenant's livingroom, to also be filled with said flying ants.

Thusly, the humble narrator called a bunch of exterminators, got answering services or machines for the local dudes, and then called Terminix.

Terminix had an evaluator out to the house in about 2 hours, his name was Aubre, and he was cool. He spent over two hours crawling through the house, looking for the source, identified the pests as termites and not just flying ants, ascertained that the termite colony was below the foundation of the house deep under it and coming up through the hollow cinder block walls of the basement up into Jessica's bedroom.

What we were seeing in the house were the kinds with wings who are forced out of the colony to be swarmers, to create a new "king and queen" to start a new colony. Within an hour, the swarming stopped because the wings fell off, and the ant like portions of the termites were getting their groove on, paired off and attached to become the new reigning monsters of another termite colony. Aubre said to vacuum them, they die in the suction, and to do the same if we see any others in the next 2 days, when the treatment will take place.

Treatment of the problem? Will cost about 3000 bucks. Again, my young girl dreams of Vassar for Jessie are gone. Financed it is about 180 bucks a month, but it it is still a huge fucking pain in my unemployed not-wealthy ass.

Heaving a heavy sigh, and a pissed and disgruntled look on my face, I signed the paper work. Knowing that Terminix gives a full 2 year guarantee on the service, whereas most give one, and a really inexpensive continuing service (like 400 a year after that) which stays with the house when we sell it, I signed the paperwork and set up the time for Termite Killer Man to come install the death spike system in the yard. Hurrah.

Meh.

Oh, and by the way... this is too bizarre. If you visit, enjoy yourself.

---

Anyway, we just got back from Jessica's school where they had an ancient Greece, ancient Egypt marketplace night for the kids. Jessica made a lyre, or I made most of it and she came up with ideas and we did the stringing of the instrument together. I spraypainted it, she detailed it, and it was a fun project. Some of her classmates did unbelievable work. But her lyre was coolass. Lyre Lyre pants afyre.

They wore cool togas and tunics, made by the teacher, and wicked cool sandals that they made themselves out of cardboard and yarn. Geoff was on great behavior, and I had a ton of fun watcing her teach people about her lyre. She's a sharp cookie. And one of the parents and I talked extensively about her in the advanced reading discussion group. There are four kids in her class who leave class once a week for discussion group with a parent volunteer. This parent thinks Jessica is brilliant and comes up with wonderful interpretations and understandings of literature. I'm pretty proud of her... she really is a bright little star.

Okay. Gotta run. It is 8:30 and the phone just rang. I think the call was for me to come sub. I'm not going to because Geoff's teacher is throwing a "bye Geoffrey" luncheon tomorrow, and I'm going to go to it. They are having spaghetti and meatballs, which is his favorite, and chocolate pudding. I'll go for lunch and then bring him home with me. Then Friday will be his last official day. I'll be sure to take pictures.

Until then. Good night, and I'm trying not to have the heebie jeebies from all these termites. MEH!!!!

Karma Police.... turn off my tenant's stereo...

When we decided it was time to buy a house, we decided we needed a multi-family house, because the income from a rental unit or units sure would help us in keeping our heads above water.

Douglas was getting ready to enroll in graduate school, and I was making like 30 grand a year... so we figured we'd be renting until about right NOW in our lives, and NOW no one can afford a house in northeastern Massachusetts... so it was a do or die situation in 1996.

We found this house quite by accident. We were looking at a two family house on the dead end street across the road from here, and decided we wanted to check this place out. It was a two family but one of the two units had been broken up into two units, so there were three total... one of which was illegal because they didn't have a second means of egress from the building in case of fire. We decided to rent that "illegal" unit out to our best buddy, and never lock the door between our two units, and we took the stove out of his unit for the building inspection to say that he really was living in with us and using our kitchen for cooking... he didn't really... he just used a toaster all the time. Not one to worry about preparing meals, as long as he had a toaster and a hot plate he was a happy boy. So it made everyone happy.

We rented him the front unit for 500 a month, and the 2 bedroom unit upstairs for 600 a month to some good friends from college. Our overall mortgage was about 1100 bucks a month, so you do the math. It was great for us because we survived on my income, with Doug in grad school and working for 2 years, and we paid off debts and totally stayed above water.

In 1990 our upstairs friends moved away to South Carolina (hi Chad, if'n yer readin' this) and bought their own house... we got other tenants upstairs and I'll chat about them in a second.

In the summer of 2000, our buddy in the front part of the house ran into some issues with heroin. We asked him to move out of the house. I would have let him stay here, but he constantly had people in the house that I didn't know, and we didn't trust them... so we had him move out. It was hard and I felt so bad, but with the door unlocked between our units I couldn't live like that for long.

When he moved out, we took over his unit. Jessica's bedroom is what used to be his livingroom/bedroom. We use the kitchen as an office and there is a tiny bathroom here. I have a mental picture of what I'd like to do to totally remodel this area, and a dream to do it. But it'll cost us big money, so we'll keep things arranged this way for a while.

Anyway, it was great to get extra space, and Jessica loves her immense bedroom (I wish she'd keep it clean but... whatever, I'm not the best role model). And I like not having the computer in the middle of the living room or in my bedroom. It works out well here.

Our upstairs tenants are interesting. It used to be a guy and his girlfriend, but they broke up and he kicked her out. Thank goodness. She was hard to deal with. She worked early mornings, so she went to bed at 7pm, would get up at 4am. And if my kids made one peep or were in Jessica's room fighting, she'd call down here complaining "I don't want to complain but I have to get some sleep..."

She has 3 kids who live with their father (shows how messed up she must be because in Massachusetts the mom ALWAYS gets the kids... that should have been a dead give away when I met her), and so she didn't seem to recall what it was like to HAVE kids, because she only had them on weekends, once in a while, and would regimen them from morning til night, getting up and having them vacuum at 6am (yeah, we can't make noise at 7pm but she can run the vacuum on hardwood floors at 6am. Fucking Get A Broom. It's hardwood flooring. Vacuums are for RUGS stupidass!) and then they'd fight and scream and yell until she pushed them out the door to take them somewhere and then they'd come back and fight and yell and scream more. The oldest kid would go out and play on our swingset, like he's 13 or something, so I wouldn't let the kids out to play then. He got stuck inside Geoff's babyswing, dumbass... and I told him to stay off it from that point. So he would sulk around the yard and throw stuff in the creek. I didn't like him much.

The daughter was nice, she must have been 12 or something. But her mother RODE her ass about her weight and would always say humiliating things to me in front of her. It broke my heart.

The youngest must have been 9. He was sweet and kind, and we took him sledding a bunch of times up on the hill out at Veasey Park. He didn't want to come back to the house. We were there hours one day.

So when the couple broke up, she psycho ex-girlfriended him for a while... leaving messages on the machine. The bedroom set was hers and she wanted it back... so she would call us and ask us to go up to the house and get it. Yeah. I'm getting involved. So they finally got things set up so she could get her stuff, and she took the dishrags, toilet paper, cleaning stuff and the bar soap.

Who takes the BAR SOAP and TOILET PAPER out of the bathroom??? She was a work of pure genius.

So he lived upstairs for a long time by himself. He's a family kinda guy, so he would have his mom and dad over all the time. His brother, his sister, the inlaws... and my house would be full of happy people not fighting and making noise but so not caring that my kids were noisy.

Or if they cared they sure didn't complain.

The house isn't very soundproof... so when the ex-girlfriend was still living here and she'd call me and complain "I can hear everything you people say down there ya know..."

"Yeah, I can hear everything YOU say too. This morning at 5 am you couldn't find your car keys and it was all his fault. So he was a 'cock sucking fucking guinea motherfucker,' then you threw a kitchen chair at him. And I think you threw a glass at him too. And then you found your keys. So I can hear you too, so keep that in mind..."

She hung up the phone on me after that one.

So my single male upstairs tenant lived quietly upstairs until recently. No, he didn't get a new girlfriend. Although I wish him happiness and success in love, that he has not yet found.

No. His niece moved in.

Her parents were going through a divorce that was getting ugly. So she needed to get out of the house. She's about 19 or 20, not sure... and she has had a real messed up past, but she's got a heart of gold. She's nowhere NEAR the bitch the ex-girlfriend is. She never calls down here complaining, and she sure is nice to talk to in the driveway when we run into each other. She doesn't like the dog sniffing her and got mad that he pee'd on her wheel of her car one day, so we keep him away from the front of the house.

She works nights, so she gets home anywhere between 6 and 9am. And then she cranks up the stereo, showers, unwinds, and goes to sleep or goes to her boyfriends for sleep...

She hasn't been accustomed to having someone down here... in fact, she did it on New Years Eve day because it was a weekday and she was just used to us being here on a weekday at 8am. Aaron and Michelle were sleeping in the livingroom and Aaron requested that I contact her and have her turn down the rap music she'd chosen to blast.

Normally it is classic or alternative rock, but she gets in a rap groove once in a while.

Lately it's "Karma Police" by Radiohead.

Every day for the last 2 weeks, since I've been home, I'm usually sitting here at the computer looking for a job or writing in the journal here, and I hear her come bounding up the stairs, which are right on the other side of my head, and the landing and kitchen are right above me. She hits the top step, I hear the keys hit the dining table, the two shoes hit the floor, 6 stomps over to the stereo and then the opening notes to "Karma Police."

Then I don't hear her stomping around much, she walks nicely, not like the ex-girlfriend who weighed 100 pounds soaking wet but sounded like her feet could blast right through the floors and come down and hit me on top of my head... for a skinny chick, she sure walked fat.

Karma Police plays about four times. Then she moves to something else. This morning it was an ecclectic mix of Pink's new party tune "Get the Party Started," which is tolerable to me, and keeping in the color scheme, some Pink Floyd... "Dark Side of the Moon" and "Shine On You Crazy Diamond." Excellent choices. And then some Aretha Franklin. And Karma Police one more time for good measure. So it's kind of cool. I'm glad she's got somewhat decent tastes. The other day it was the entire Houses of the Holy album from Zep, so ... I enjoyed listening while surfing. But in the past two weeks there have been times that I've longed for absolute silence, and I don't want to call her and ask her to be quiet. I understand her routine, and to be honest it isn't like I plan on being down here forever. It's daytime, it isn't like 4am, and she isn't vacuuming hardwood floors, so I'm okay with it.

I don't hear anything now, so she's either on the phone or she went to bed. Nope, there she goes down the stairs. Seeya! Have a nice day!

Honestly, I love the guy who lives upstairs... he's the best. We didn't raise the rent when our first tenants moved out but we could have. And we didn't alter the rent when the girlfriend moved out or the niece moved in. He always pays on time, he fixes stuff up there and doesn't ask to be reimbursed (we keep telling him to give us the receipts, but he shrugs it off. I just hope when he does move out someday that he doesn't take everything OUT that he put in). I think he recognizes that for a two bedroom in this area, he's got a sweet deal, so he just kind of does his thing and we let him decorate and repaint and do stuff up there to make his life happy. After all, he's the one who has to look at it, not us. So we give him free reign on the place.

The only thing I regret about them being up there is the bitch ex-girlfriend wanted us to alter the second bedroom before they moved in. There was a built-in 3/4 size captain's bunk with two drawers under it, and it was my favorite thing in the house. I wanted to convert this place to a single family one day and have that little room be my son's room or a playroom with the guest bed. I loved the woodworking, and how sturdy and beautiful it was.

She insisted it be taken out because she wanted to put a sofa in the room that folded out, and I couldn't see why. So we did. And we never replaced the floor under it, we put down plywood panels and they put a rug over it. I cried and cried when Doug pulled that thing out. And he was also heart broken. I told him to be as careful as possible, so he saved the drawers and the front panel where the drawers slide in... but we'll never be able to replace it or put it back in the way it was. I'm glad we have the drawers and front panel, because maybe we can use them when we build in the entertainment center in the living room. And that can always be a part of the house memory.

I like having them there, they are good tenants as I said... sometimes I wish I had a single family house, but ya know... this isn't bad. Someone is always here, so the house isn't left unattended when we go away on vacation or he goes away, and I feel safe. They are good people.

I have to get my act together this morning. I have some tidying to do before Mare gets here, and I took the car up to the garage this morning so I'm hoping to hear from them. Our brakes stopped working (not on the Saturn, but on the Beatermobile) and so before we had a catastrophic braking failure Doug decided I could be car-less for a while and it wouldn't be an issue.

Perhaps I'll vacuum my hardwood floors and listen to "Kid A" or "Optimistic." And I'll leave you with this. Kinger's new favorite place to sleep in the house is right flush up against the door in Jessica's room, which leads to the outside world, which has our mail slot in it. You've heard of those door snakes that stop drafts, right? Well, I've got a Rottie-Golden X draft stopper. He saw me coming with the camera so he rolled over onto his side, but he WAS sleeping on his back with his legs up in the air, all akimbo. It was a sight... I'll try and catch him again sometime.

And yes, Jessie's room is that purple color. That's a story for another day.