And the reason I feel clean is because American Geisha kindly offered me the use of her shower, particularly welcome as maintenance hasn’t yet made it here (partially my fault given I neglected to call them until late today).

I had company in Geisha’s bathroom: Spanker’s Devil Cat, a gorgeous black kitten with gold highlights, who crouched in the corner behind the toilet and was quite determined to remain dry, and who did, despite flicking water at her. Later, as I left, I played matador with her, directing her around the kitchen with my towel.

It has to be said — when I started blogging, I never knew it would help me get a shower when I really needed one. Thank you much, Geisha.

So I’m going back to the store after a delivery. It’s the end of rush hour, and I’m behind seven or eight cars. Suddenly, brake lights begin to flash. The lead car’s brake lights were on and the vehicle was pulling over to the side of the road. Mind you, now, we’re headed uphill, so I assume that car’s driver has seen something I haven’t. Deer, probably. Then I notice flickering lights over the horizon of the road, so I change my assumption from “deer” to “emergency vehicle.”

Imagine, if you will, just imagine, my reaction when the “emergency vehicle” turned out to be a tow truck, with flashing yellow lights, and a U.S. Postal Jeep behind it.

Oh. My. Road. Raging. Self.

Tow trucks are not now, were not yesterday, will not be tomorrow, emergency vehicles. Emergency vehicles are the following:

Police cars. Fire trucks. Ambulances.

Not tow trucks. Not school buses. Not the UPS guy. Certainly not me, the pizza guy.

However, there is something to be said about school buses. School buses are not emergency vehicles, but there is no one in the world who thinks you’re cool if you blow past a stopped school bus with its lights flashing and its stop sign out. Speaking of …

According to police, Christopher Vain-Dolan was getting on a school bus when he was hit by Rachel Cosden, 21, of Westminster, who was traveling in the opposite direction on Deer Park Road.

Vain-Dolan was flown to Johns Hopkins Hospital. The boy’s parents were at the scene when he was flown out, officials said.

Cosden told police that the sun was in her eyes and may have contributed to the accident. Charges against her are pending.

Here’s a common sense tip: if the sun is in your eyes, and you can’t see, slow down or stop or buy sunglasses.

So I’m putting the finishing touches on a paper on the folkways of pizza delivery guys for my Folklore class just now, and I’ve got the TV on in the background. Miami Ink is on, and I glance up for a segment about a chick getting an anatomically correct heart tattoo with tattoed pins coming out of it. She’s talking about how rough her life has been, and I’m thinking, “there’s something familiar about her …” but I can’t figure out what it is until the scene changes and she’s coming back to actually get the tattoo, and she’s wearing a halter-top, and I can see the many different-colored star tattoos running parallel up her stomach, and it clicks on me — dude! I’ve seen her in hardcore porn! (I remember thinking at the time, while, y’know, “My, what distinctive tattoos.”)

(Except her hair was more reddish then).

Broken Showerknob = No Daily Shower = Cranky (and stinky!) Me.

It isn’t an easy repair, either. The screw that holds the knob snapped in two — I can get the screw out of the showerknob, but I can’t get it out of the hardware it connects to. Say what you will about home ownership versus renting, I’ve got some poor slob from maintenance who is going to get to fix it (boo for him, yay for me).

You know I’m preoccupied with stuff — like the last day of classes before finals! — when I almost forget to mark such an important historical date: A Day Which Shall Live in Infamy. I’ve got papers to write, presentations to prepare, and masturbation to squeeze in somewhere. Phil’s got a bunch of links up for commemoration.

Yes, yesterday’s answer was the letter “E”.

So, today’s!

With a terrible racket
I change my jacket
I change my coat and color
I weigh less in my brand new dress
Although I am many times larger

What am I?

Enjoy, and no cheating.

… to SiteMeter, which I wasn’t going to blog about, until Danielle blogged about SiteMeter, and then I figured I needed to address my addiction (I’ve got a direct link on my Firefox toolbar, for Christ’s sake!)

See, I got addicted over the summer, then got un-addicted thanks to the crushing workload I’ve been under. Then Geisha got me readdicted (thanks, Geisha, you re-addicting bitch), and now I can’t help but check it a few times every day.

Day? More like hour.

i hate memes.
i hate memes.
i hate memes. Thanks, Julie.

So, I’ll do this one, but I won’t tag anyone, rules be dammed.

“According to the rules, each player of this game starts with the title “Six Weird Things About Me.” People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own six weird things and state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says, ‘You are tagged!’ in their comments and tell them to read your blog!”

A Cluttered Apartment Is A Cozy Apartment
I like stuff. If I were a chick, I’d be a material girl, but since I’m not, I’m a material boy. Books, DVDs, electronics, lamps, posters, giant Lego castles, my apartment is filled with couches, bookshelves, desks, bookshelves, giant Lego castles, bookshelves … Geisha tells me my place is cramped, but I think it’s cozy. When I see an empty wall I have to resist the urge to go to Ikea and buy another bookshelf for it.

I Spell Grammar With An E
Even though I’m an English major, I have the hardest time with grammar. Is it its or it’s? What’s a verb? Person place or thing … right? Well, I should clarify: I’m a Creative Writing major. We’re supposed to ignore the rules of grammar. It’s a creative thing. Plus, no one speaks in proper sentences.

I Wish I Could Live Carfree, Even Though I Love Driving
Carfree, not carefree. I love to drive, I do. I love long winding country roads. I love stretches of highway. I hate hate hate loathe other drivers, and while being able to live within walking or public transportation distance of work is impractical right now (pizza delivery on foot? er, no), I’m very envious of my friend Russell, who lives in Silver Spring and commutes to work in DC on the Metro. This does mean that I would have no need for a new Jeep Wrangler … but I could always daydream (like I do now).

Okay. Now, here’s where this meme comes to a screeching halt. See, here’s the thing, I’m having a hard time thinking of things about me that are “weird.” Maybe I just don’t have the necessary distance. Maybe I see some things as normal that you might consider weird. So here’s where this meme takes a sharp screeching turn into the realm of “reader participation.”

What are other weird things about me?

I think anyone who knows me or has read this blog for any amount of time should be able to think of things. Chime in!