Thursday, July 14, 2005

Sweet Serenity

Seriously. Right Now. 9pm on Thursday, July 14, 2005 is the quietest my life has been in weeks.

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Today was the last day of my house-sitting job. I was sitting for the same people I have sat for 5 weeks out of the last two months. The cool dogs with the cool pool.

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Consistency is key in Life. It's what makes us feel secure. The sun coming up every day; Bush murdering the English Language; long lines at the bank; and at least one bad thing happening at 123 Igiveup St. Every time Miss Scarlett house-sits there. (Read back for the "TV Remote Sacrifice" & "Dog Goes Lame" stories.)

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The latest: My clients went to London on the 3rd to attend a Polo Tournament. (They are OK, by the way. I got a text message at 6:15am our time on that terrible morning letting me know they were safe.) Wednesday of last week was a terrible storm related to Tropical Storm Cindy. I'm at their pool on Saturday cleaning up all the branches, leaves, etc... It's a freakin' beautiful day. 88 degrees. Slight breeze. Utopia. I'm standing across the pool from their very expensive pool-side bar setup when this freak of nature gale-force wind blows through and carries the umbrella from their expensive pool-side bar over the privacy wall into the backyard of their neighbor (who is also their best friend. No relevance.) Fuck! Can't I get through one job for these people that doesn't include one of their loved ones or a piece of their property getting hurt? I go into the neighbor's yard with the intention of just putting the umbrella back over.

Oh no. It's never as easy as it looks. The wall is 7 feet tall & the umbrella is part of a set that has it's own remote control that turns on the little xmas lites & also opens & closes it. Translation: It's fucking heavy. It's a Three Stooges situation minus 2. At one point I thought, "Is Alan Funt still alive? I should "Google" him." I got the umbrella back over and into it's base. Two of the spines had snapped in two when it flew over. I decide to close it in case that wind blast happens again.

So, I'm standing INSIDE of the umbrella closing it with the remote making sure that the jagged edges of the spines don't tear the canvas not realizing that I AM CREATING THE TOMB I SO DESERVE TO BE BURIED IN! I saved myself by falling to my knees at the last possible moment. It would be just my luck that New York would actually have a slow news day & a picture of a pool-side umbrella with little legs dangling from underneath would be splashed on the front page of the New York Post. Because it was THAT STUPID. The Washington Post wouldn't touch the story. Unless, of course, I had had sex with Deep-Throat first. Wearing a Belly-Dancer outfit.

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That's what I've been up to. How have ya'll been entertaining yourselves?

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peace


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Comments:
I don't have long lines at my bank, we're friendly and quick.
 
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