Melonade

I don't know if this is true for you, but I find that there are some days that challenge me more than others. Not like "Mel vs. Tuesday" or something, but days that just make me figure out exactly what I'm made of. Take, for instance, the email from a past friend asking for advice. Or after-dinner conversation that's more about souls than pop culture. If I were nerdy enough to keep a big calendar (or Excel spreadsheet) to chart such moments, I hope these would be considered successful. But it's too soon to tell.

These are not the days that I come home from work and use the Gamecube to escape. As much as I love trying to take out the enemy without sacrificing my good mercenaries...well, I just had a moment there and forgot the point I was trying to make. I've had my fair share of isolation, intentional or otherwise. But I'm definitely on the upswing back into full socializing mode.

Anyway, I'm watching an old Frasier episode and listening to the storm winds rattle my miniblinds. Tornado season makes me a little more nervous than it used to since I'm in the thick of it now. And yes, when I hear the sirens cry, I grab my purse, laptop, and shoes. If you were me, you'd do the same.

Note To Self: When taping Scrubs for later viewing, always check the tape to make sure there's enough space. I only got halfway through tonight's episode, and even that was ruined by the storm warnings consuming most of my small tv screen. It's the only current network show that I really care about anymore. I'll have to wait 'til tomorrow and catch it on iTunes. I just realized that since it's May, it's almost time for the summer hiatus. I am pacified by the thought that Season 3 will be out on DVD next week. You can bet I will go on my lunch break to buy it.

I discovered a new favorite song on iTunes. Man, I love iTunes. And I love "Sunday Best" by Augustana. That's three minutes and 20 seconds of beauty. I think it's time to hit the repeat button.

Fear not, brave bloggers. Unlike many a video game bad guy, I have not perished just yet. I have taken what felt like a necessary hiatus. The last week has been giving me the blog itch again. (Don't worry, there's no cream required for blogger's itch.) There were a few weeks when I didn't want to think about blogging anymore, and I almost retired the blog. There would have been a big ceremony, too. It was going to be great.

I may have lost all former readers with my terribly long absence. Solution: one well-timed email. "Hey, my blog is back! Thanks for missing me." Or something like that.

I'll try to catch you up by answering the most frequent questions I am asked in real life:

1. What's going on? (AKA What are you up to, what's new, etc.)

Answer: Work. Lots of work.

For example, we had three bids today, which means that the next day I will have three sets of proposals to review and tabulate, three recommendation letters to write, and three times as many contractors calling to ask what the results were. If this is not your life, you probably don't get why this is such a stressful thing.

I have recently been able to add "Gateway shopping" to this answer. I get to decorate for the Gateway class this summer, and eBay has become my favorite place to shop.

2. How is the writing coming/going? (I don't know if one is better than the other. Apparently they mean the same thing to us.)

Answer: Not so good right now. (See answer #1.)

It may be hard to believe that writing reports every day about water treatment plants, sewer lines, sidewalk projects, and the like will suck out all my creative writing energy. My friends, it happens more often than I would like. That is not to say that I've stopped all work on the book. It is to say that the second draft is not quite finished, and a third draft looms over me.

3. Have you caught the snake yet?

Answer: No. At least, we don't think so.

The truth is that neither I nor my roommate is willing to crawl through the opening in my closet to find out if the snake is still coiled up in the attic. We are hoping one of these things is true: a) the last raccoon convinced the snake that he was not welcome in our attic, either by verbal or physical means; b) the warm weather drew the snake out of the attic for good; or c) the pest control elves carried him away in the middle of the night.

The problem is simple. When we caught the raccoons in the trap, they scratched all night. You see where I'm going, because you're pretty smart. Snakes don't scratch, so how am I supposed to know when we catch one? I know the pest control guy doesn't want to keep crawling up in our attic just to tell us that nothing's there. Or maybe he does, but we are not willing to pay him to do so.

4. What movies do you want to see?

Answer: X3, Cars, Pirates of the Caribbean, I'm on the fence about Superman Returns, The Breakup, and Friends with Money.

There you have it. To recap:

Work: Busy
Book: Slow, but not dead
Snake: MIA
Movies: I should start saving money now.

Enjoy your day.

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.