little acorns (be like the squirrel, girl, be like the squirrel)
03.22.05 @ 1:39 a.m.
So maybe I'm a little bit of a record-whore. Today I bought Another Scoop and a My Generation/Magic Bus combo album at Ozone UK today.
In the continuing drama of the rustling I heard in my closet yesterday, last night I slept with my door open so I wouldn't be trapping whatever it was in my room and maybe one of the dogs would wander in and keep my company. This was not such a great idea. At 4 in the morning, something made a bang or booming noise, which is exactly what terrifies our dog, Dolly, so she came charging in to try to hide in the three inch gap between my nightstand and the wall. Unfortunately, I didn't KNOW it was her, I just heard a lot of noise right next to my bed and freaked out. I yelled for Rudy, the male corgi we're dogsitting and really not much of a chasing and hunting kind of dog. Once I stopped UTTERLY PANICKING, I turned on the light and found out it was just Dolly, the fat cow. She calmed down after I petted her for a while, and she stayed there until she woke me up again at 9 when she got up to leave. I went back to sleep. The next time I woke up, it was because I felt something hit my back. I really, really wanted it to be one of the corgis trying to jump on the bed, but I knew that it wasn't 35+ pounds of weight hitting me. I sat up and looked for the perpetrator, but he had dashed under my bed and out the other side to my closet.
The little fucker.
After that, I engaged in a little anti-squirrel terrorism (this is definitely a squirrel). Anti-squirrel terrorism is comprised of playing Green Day's American Idiot at extreme high volume and pointing the speaker directly at the closet every now and then. Dad thinks I only made him hunker down. Eventually I had to go down and take a shower, since I was going out with Amy and Martha at noon, and when I came back upstairs, I screamed for the first time in earnest because he was sitting on the couch and startled the hell out of me.
Dad says he's going to buy rat traps and bait them with peanut butter, because he's sick of the squirrels getting in the house. Martha and Amy think the story is adorable and hilarious, and want to name my "pet squirrel" Mortimer. I want him dead, or at least far the fuck away from where I sleep. THEY CARRY FLEAS THAT CARRY PLAGUE. I DO NOT WANT THIS ANYWHERE NEAR ME.
Shopping was okay, though I think it went on too long. I bought the two LPs and a corgi sticker from a toy store. Martha bought a giant firetruck pencil and Amy bought a scarf as a present for someone. That is all we bought after being out for 11 hours. Okay, we went to Subway for dinner and spent a lot of time at Starbucks working on our story, and Amy bought Martha a book for her birthday. But still. A lot of walking around and talking until we kind of started to run out of things to talk about. I had a good day, certainly, but I was glad enough when it was over.
I'm also rather jealous of something I wish I could talk about but cannot. It's aggrivating when this happens, but I just have to live with it and maybe think about starting a paper diary for the day to day stuff and trimming this down to a standard blog.
I make it sound like the shopping part of my day was bad - it wasn't, it was great. We talked to a guy named Greg for a long time at Starbucks, though I get the feeling that Amy and Martha liked him a whole lot more than I did. I'm just too tired to want to talk about it in anything like detail.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
