Thursday, September 24, 2009

Who Really Rules The World?

Who really rules the world? That's the title of the small pamphlet I received inside an envelope today. The envelope was addressed to my first two initials and my last name in very neat penmanship. I believe the writer even may have used a ruler to keep the lines perfectly straight.

Alice B. sent me the pamphlet with a lovely letter, written in pencil, and addressed inside to Ms. M!@#$%^*. How lovely!

Her message is brief, yet full of concern.

Her work, she goes on to say, is patterned after the work Jesus Christ "established when on Earth." She does this voluntarily, and she endeavors to help individuals, like me, to "come to AND accurate knowledge of the truth." (whatever that may be)

I felt this letter, which was weirdly written in pencil, was the perfect topper to my day. I opened it on the first floor, and laughed at the cosmic weirdness it added to an already crappy day all the way to the third floor

I thought to myself,"What am I doing?"

I don't know.

The only way I get through times like these is to think of Melanie Griffith's Tess McGill in Working Girl.

This song always makes me feel better when work is not going well.

Friday, September 11, 2009

Stigmata

After a late afternoon of dinner and a margarita with some work friends, I was not wanting to step into my apartment and see *this* dribbling down the wall closest to the front door.

My apartment was leaking water from the attic. What's interesting is that the water did not drip from the ceiling, but, instead, found a way to not stain the upper part of the wall and just stain the middle of the downward. Weird, huh? Leaks come from the weirdest places.

Naturally, my insane obsessing mind couldn't leave this alone, so I lugged my buzzed behind to the attic (not my favorite place to be after the bat incident) where I began to search for the troublesome leak.

I ended up finding it right above what I imagined the entrance to my apartment was, so I placed an old empty wonton soup container from Chinese take-out right underneath it. *sigh*

It's just another call to my landlord that I dread making, and another reason why buying a house feels so much better.

If it starts leaking blood, I should call the Vatican, right?