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"In this tempestuous, havoc-ridden world of ours, all real communication comes from the heart." | ||
- Etty Hillesum |
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June 24, 2006 |
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Fences and winkies and thunderstorms. |
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15 weeks, 1 day pregnant. Wow! Time is passing so quickly. Luckily, we have extremely nice neighbors. While I have had neighbors from hell in the past, we am currently living next to Very Nice People. A few months ago a major storm blew through the neighborhood and trashed most of our outdoor furniture. It also blew down a tree which crashed on a portion of fence that is between our house and our neighbors� house. Neighbor and his Dad decided to fix the fence. We offered to pay for at least half because they were doing the work, to which they replied, �Nonsense, nonsense, don�t worry about it!� A few weeks ago we heard a pounding noise and looked out to find that Neighbor and his Dad were not just repairing the fence � they were completely rebuilding it! Not only that, but they were rebuilding it in the 103-degree heat of our heatwave. �Blue!� I whispered loudly (because of course the neighbor who was banging away at a fence 50 feet away outside could possibly hear me), �They�re rebuilding the fence from scratch! New wood! Everything!� �Naaaah, they�re just repairing it,� he said. �Come! Here! Now! And! Look!� I whispered fiercely. �Holy shit, they�re rebuilding the fence from scratch!� Blue said. �Aw man, I feel so guilty. Should we go offer to help? Should I bring them lemonade?� �They refused my help again � I offered cash, and Neighbor said he was happy to do it. He and his Dad love working on projects like this together.� �Aw, we�re a couple of slackers.� Anyway, last night we took the neighbor and his wife (but not their father, who doesn�t actually live in town) out to dinner. We chose a really nice restaurant which happened to be one of their favorites, and we all had an excellent time. Great meals all around, some good conversation, and it was quite pleasant. I like the wife a lot � she seems to be quite cool. And anytime we talk, we seem to have a lot to say. Neither of us has ever taken it to the next level � coffee, or whatever � but I think we get along okay. She could be a friend, maybe, if I played my cards right. It�d be nice to have another friend. Yesterday, my Mom and I went and got massages. There�s a place nearby that is, well, a massage parlour. Har har. No, it�s a business where all they do is massage. They have about ten massage rooms, and they have a ton of therapists, and you just call and make your appointment and there you go. You can also buy a �membership,� if you like to get frequent massages � it works out to be pretty cheap, like $35 for an hour massage if you do at least two a month. Not bad. Anyway � before my massage I slipped into the back to go to the bathroom. (Damned bladder � I can�t go more than an hour and a half before I�ve got to pee again.) I did my normal *knock* *knock* on the bathroom door, paused a second, and then opened the door. And there stood some guy, peeing. �Whoops! Sorry!� I said, closing the door. I felt like a dork. And then I thought, �Wait. I knocked. I waited. I didn�t hear anyone say anything. And then I opened the door. Why the heck didn�t he lock the friggin� door?!� I�m not the one who should feel like a dork. So he finished his business and came out of the bathroom � at which point I realized that he was one of the massage therapists. Please God, I prayed. Please don�t let him be my massage therapist. After locking the door and finishing MY business, I went back to the waiting room and told my mom the story of a man and his winkie in the bathroom. �I hope I don�t get him,� I said. She laughed at me. He came to the waiting room and called � my Mom�s name. Whew. I wasn�t able to communicate to Mom that he was the guy � because he was standing right there and it wouldn�t have been too subtle to say, �PSST, HE�S THE ONE FROM THE BATHROOM I JUST TOLD YOU ABOUT.� So she didn�t know, at that point, that he was Mr. Unlocked Bathroom Door. Off they went for her massage, and I waited for my guy. I was quite relieved that I didn�t have to get nekkid in the same room with the guy whose winkie I just saw. After our massages, I said to my Mom, �You got my bathroom guy! I saw his winkie!� To which she responded, �Thankfully, I did not see his winkie.� We had a good laugh. We woke up this morning to a raging thunderstorm. What better excuse to snuggle under the covers and go back to sleep on a Saturday morning? The weekend is off to a lovely start!
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Last Few Entries |
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Back? - November 10, 2007 |
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� More about Etty Hillesum, the woman in the photo.� |
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