Queen of Rambles

First, a political link about economics in general: Just the Math.

Now, back to your regularly scheduled ramble.

I got to drive Mike’s new car all the way to our nearest metro station today. I decided I have no desire to ever drive his car again. It feels funny and smells like a new car. New car smell makes me nauseous. If I’m going to ride the metro I don’t need to start out with a need to puke. I get sick just thinking about the jostle-y ride all the way into DC.

Mike, poor man, had to take care of Erik all by his lonesome for six hours. He’s the perfect house husband. While I was gone he went grocery shopping and prepared dinner. Can’t get much better than that.

He FINALLY starts his new job tomorrow! It feels so strange for him to be going to a different place with all different people, but I guess it doesn’t make much difference to me. His commute will be a lot shorter, so maybe that will mean I’ll see more of him. I hope they don’t stress him out too much. Even though this change doesn’t affect me much, I’ve been having transition nightmares. Last night I had to move to Italy with my three children, including a newborn. The company wouldn’t even give me a maid! The gall!

Is this post disjointed or what? My mind is whirling and swirling, but I can’t settle on any one thing.

Ohhhhhh!!!

Story time!

Halloween afternoon I looked outside and noticed two cop cars taking up five parking places. They’d done the crazy cop park like they were in a big hurry, but the lights weren’t going and no one was around.

“This is strange,” I thought. I even had Mike come and look. “Yes,” he agreed, “strange.” I wasn’t hallucinating, which is always my concern when I see strange thing. Mainly my hallucinations are all in my head.

I’m a dork.

About ten minutes later I heard an insistent knock on the door. I thought the trick or treaters were early and insistent. I looked out the peep hole and decided that they were also short. I grabbed the bag of play-doh treats, opened the door, and didn’t see anyone.

Suddenly a big, armed man was looming in front of my face.

Thankfully, he was a police officer.

He’d been standing to the side of the door and had his gun drawn. When he saw me he put it away and showed me a picture of a gross looking old dude. He wanted to know if I’d seen him, but I hadn’t. He insisted that I MUST have seen him. When Mike walked into the room he gave him the once over (though Mike looked nothing like this grizzled, gray haired guy) and barked that we had to know him because he lives in our building. Guess what? There’s no way this guy lives in our building. He may live in the complex, but unless someone is hiding him really well he isn’t in any of our ten apartments.

The guy did look vaguely familiar and it was bothering me last night. Something when CLICK in my head and I suddenly knew! He was at the complex Halloween party! I bumped into him when I was getting my water!

I shared my detective skills with Mike, along with the question of whether or not the police would be interested in that information. What if he was a pedophile? Or rapist? Or murderer? Mike said the guy I bumped into rides his bus every morning and he didn’t think it was the same guy.

There goes my career as a CSI.

I really do wish they would have told us what they wanted the guy for. They lurked around all night, knocking on doors and scaring people. They probably thought people were more likely to open their doors on Halloween, but that was probably the worst night they could have picked in this complex. The vast majority of people are candy curmudgeons and don’t open their doors on Halloween. At least this year the complex passed out paper pumpkins for us to tape to the door if we were willing to have Trick or Treaters. They didn’t do it last year, which made it really frustrating for all the trick or treaters (and the curmudgeons).

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