Melonade

When last we left our heroine, she was trying to get the raccoon smell out of the carpet. Since then, she has:

Seen Coldplay in concert (they rocked many times over).
Attempted to squeeze in 50 hours of editing in 30 days, with only mild success.
Made plans to see Nickel Creek in concert next week (we presume they will rock, too, only in a more bluegrassy way)
Just learned from her roommate that there may be a very large snake living in their attic. (yikes!)
Made the bi-annual trip to the big arts/crafts/antique show at the Fairgrounds, where many exciting purchases were made, including an old globe.
Played lots and lots of Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, but is still able to go two or three days in a row without playing at all.
Rearranged her bedroom furniture. Twice.
Noticed a pair of dark blue underwear in the parking lot at Panera Bread (anyone missing a pair?).
Been shocked and slightly appalled at the results of Spring Sing.
Watched and smelled the stinky white blossoming trees start to bloom.
Discovered the wonders of the IKEA store in Dallas on a wild one day roadtrip with friends.
Watched more episodes of Friends than should be humanly possible.
Decided that NASCAR is more interesting than you might think.
Heard complaints from a few select folk on the lack of new posts.

My roommate and I set the trap Saturday afternoon, which was more difficult than we expected. By Saturday night, I knew that we had something trapped up there. He scratched all night long. Around 3 I finally gave up on a decent night's sleep and stuffed cotton balls in my ears to drown him out.

Sunday afternoon, I got back on the ladder to see how angry our visitor was. But it turns out it wasn't a squirrel after all. It was much bigger than a squirrel...more raccoon-sized.

Okay, it was a raccoon.

That's right. We had our very own raccoon in the attic! And let me say, I wasn't expecting to have a face-to-face encounter with a raccoon in my bedroom. Forest, maybe, but not bedroom.

Stacey's got some fun pics and a few more details on her blog.

At least the raccoon smell is finally gone. Thank you, Febreze! I couldn't have done it without you.

The Gold Star Award (and lots of cookies, I think) goes to Jay for removing our furry friend and taking him back to nature.

Enjoy your day.

You may have heard that Stacey and I have a squirrel in our attic. At least, we hope it's just a squirrel. Sometimes it sounds like a person is tromping around up there. Maybe the little guy's just practicing his acrobatic maneuvers.

I hadn't heard him scratching around in a couple of weeks, but last night he made it clear that he is still an attic-dweller. Stacey saw him in the backyard a few days ago and warned him to stay away, but he didn't listen. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep at 1 a.m., I heard the familiar rustling above my bed. Two things made me very irritated: 1) that I was still awake when all I wanted to do was sleep, and 2) that the rodent had the audacity to rustle directly above my bed instead of by the window where I heard him last time. C'mon buddy, give a girl a break. If you must hide out in the attic, at least respect other people's bedtimes. I was awake for another half hour trying to ignore his noises. Even if it was snowing last night, he could have been quieter.

No, I haven't disappeared.

With all the holidays and moving and visits from friends and whatnot, blogging hasn't been high on the priority list. In fact, for the last month it probably ranked just above scrubbing my bathroom. But that's okay. Most of the people who read this get to see me in person (if not on a regular basis, then at least on very special occasions), and so we're caught up.

I've been officially moved into the new place for about a week and a half. It feels really good to be out of my scary apartment-hood. I've traded noisy neighbors at all hours for a squirrel in the attic whose visits are rare. It's not a bad trade.

I'm also the proud new owner of a digital camera, which I plan to use to the fullest when I have a free Saturday.

As for New Year's resolutions, mine is a re-dedication to the novel, which was unfortunately put on hold while I was packing, moving, and unpacking. I'm giving myself until April 1st to finish the second draft. Two thoughtful friends gave me new journals for Christmas, so I have a lot of writing to do. Plus, the new bedroom has a perfect desk-sized nook with a window. That's where I'll be until the spring.

Seems like every other piece of email in my office inbox is junk mail-- someone who wants money, the FBI or CIA wants answers to questions, or someone sending along a supposedly heartwarming story to brighten my day. And if I don't forward these messages, brimstone will surely rain down upon me and all my pets will die within the next 24 hours.

Even worse are those warning me that someone else is out to get me. If I don't look over my shoulder, in my backseat, or under my car at every possible moment, I will miss the psycho creep who is hiding out with a sharpened butter knife ready to slit my neck, ankles, or wallet wide open.

I know I'm not the only one who is fed up, but look around at all the people who are spreading the junk! Just go back to the last forwarded email you received (unless you delete them immediately-- and kudos to you for that)and see how many people are in the e-trail. Imagine how many of those people rushed to forward it on to everyone else they know.

I'm pleading with you, dear reader, to break the chain. I'm not saying that some warnings aren't valid or some jokes aren't funny, but just take a few seconds to do a little research before you warn all your friends and family about the next big non-existent surefire money maker. As strangely interconnected as the world is nowadays, you may very well be the reason that I get a new piece of junk.