AH HA!!

I've figured it out.  I think I have.  I've heard a few too many ghost stories, compliments mostly of my bff.  She and her family have this long history of creepy happenings.  Shan't get into those presently.

It's not that.  It's not that I'm afraid there's a ghost lurking about (although, I must say, aside from a confusing odor permeating this building, the air is a touch different.  Just, different).  I have no clue about this man.  Why does that bother me?  The unknown is so scary!  I've been literally afraid to leave my apartment in the morning before work.  I've been afraid to come home at night after work.  I've been too afraid to leave after dark to go someplace, anyplace else, because I'll have to go through the lobby on the first floor, which is close to the basement.  The chandelier has its lights out.  I work early in the morning and late into the day and the sun hasn't peeked its face through the windows quite yet.  It's still dark.  So I've been anxious trying to get anywhere that's not here.  When I'm not here, I get anxious before the ride/walk/drive home.  And I certainly can't speak aloud to anyone about this while I'm physically in my apartment.

On the bike ride home from work tonight, I had a private brainstorm session.  I thought it might make me feel better.  Who was this guy?
He might have had a job.
He might have had a daughter or two.
He might have been paying child support.
He might have hated HHP like I do.
He might have liked to cook.  He might have had a specialty.
He might have been annoyed when it rains.
He might have been missed.  He might not have been.
He might have went to his mother's house on Christmas.
He might have always been on time with his bills.
He might have said hello and thank you to every bus driver in Pittsburgh.
He might have been a good student in school.
He might have grounded his kid for getting bad grades.
He might have loved his boss.
He might have liked to shoot the breeze with Nick.  He might have gotten annoyed if with Nick if he didn't have the time to chat.
He might have been a vegetarian.  He might have been allergic to eggs.
He might have liked to go to the drive-in in the summertime.
He might have been really sweet.
He might have hung out at the library every day.  He might have been one of the patrons that drive Daniel assuredly insane.
He might have liked to have a beer after work with his buddies.
He might have liked to garden.  He might have over-watered every plant he ever tried to grow.
He might have read the paper every day.
He might have separated all of his recyclables from the trash and put it out every week like clockwork.
He might have liked to shop for antiques.
He might have built model airplanes.
He might have had a really irritating family.
He might have held the door open for others at the grocery store.
He might have cut people in line at the grocery store.
He might have had a season pass to Sandcastle.
He might have worked out 7 days a week.
He might have kept a journal.
He and I might have made eye contact with each other sometime in this tiny city.

I made a point to myself.  He had a personality, whether he was an asshole, kind, patient, grumpy, shy, or reclusive, as I had once heard.  And I think that makes it a lot less scary.  I'm not sure what it is about the fear of the unknown.  I have to keep making up stories for this reason.  He was probably like lots of people I've met before, and if I make that association, I can be sad instead of afraid.  I haven't been able to sit alone in my living room, which is closer to the door, which is closer to the stairwell, which is closer to the basement, since Wednesday.  Now I think I'm okay to go out there.  It's Sunday night and I think I hear The Simpsons calling my name.  It's about damn time.  Brent keeps texting me random Simpsons quotes and I've been getting extremely envious that he's taking the time out of his "busy" school schedule to spend some quality hours with the tube.

Reason #286 May Cannot Come Soon Enough

My Jonnyboy Scott and I were off to Wednesday night banjo club. Sitting in the backseat of the car, I hear a Le Tigre ringtone...and quietly hit ignore. When the tone goes off a second time, I inspect further to learn the root of this minor interruption. It is none other than my neighbor Amit who lives in the apartment next to mine! What on earth could she be calling about?

Hey Amit!! What's going on??!!

Hey, have you been home at all today?
No, I've been out at work since 6 this morning and spent about 20 minutes at home tonight. I got home and pretty much left...I'm in the car now. Why? What's up?

Well...have you noticed that really bad smell in our apartment the past week or so?
Ummmmm...no...

Well, I came home today and there was an ambulance in front of the building. Apparently there was a guy who lived in the basement...he died. The groundskeeper found him today. They think he was there a month.


WHAT THE HELL HOW DO I RESPOND TO THAT???!?!?!

Once upon a time, back in the summer of 2009, I was outside examining the mail boxes near the front door of my apartment building. Twelve??? Who lives in apartment 12? These bastards at HHP really need to get their shit in gear and update their mailboxes, for there are only 11 apartments here!!!

That's what I thought. I have a sweet relationship with my next door neighbor. Nick, who lives the next house over. He's always out grilling, reading, lounging, and always asking, "Hey kid, how ya makin aht so far?" Considerate ole guy. Was out one day having one of my weekly Chats With Nick. We were BSing about my landlord. The number of apartments/mailboxes was the topic of the hour. He informed me that there's this big, black, reclusive dude living in the basement, in apartment number twelve. His deal? No one really knows. And my neighbor knows EVERYTHING about EVERYONE in this 'hood. Known tidbits:

He's big.
He's black.
He's a recluse.
He lives in apartment 12.
Apartment 12 is in the cellar. Its entrance is on the side of the building.

Yep, that pretty well covers it.

Oh wait, and he died. And no one knew. For at least long enough for the other tenants in this building to go, hmmm, what a funny odor.

Amit had told me that the smell had improved greatly today, since the ambulance came. I hung up the phone with her and about two minutes after I did, I realized...YES, THERE HAD BEEN A FUNK FLOATING IN THE LOBBY THE PAST FEW DAYS!!!! Silly me thought it was some strange unappetizing ethnic dish. I'd be an asshole if I said, yes, some might call it that.

The thing that jerks another tear to my eye (and sends a chill up my spine)? This is the second story involving stench, lonely people, death, and basements that I've heard in two weeks. That's far too many. I feel like some of these should be in those Scary Stories books from Ohio.

Oh, Alvin Schwartz, you really do put the Oh in Ohio.

After Allllllll, That's What Wishes (Taxes) Are For

so many choices:

sewing machine
courage to quit my job
digi SLR cammy cam
R1100R
gold plated manjo
a trip to the canary islands



uhhh...a little help?

Things that make me go UGHHH

I've been thinking lately. It's been twelve days of this. Which may be enough to call it a permanent thought. I need to quit my job.

I went to Film Kitchen a few weeks ago. It's something I like to do with a few select friends (and sister and brother o' mine, should they be in town). It's a little monthly movie night, which for 5 bucks gets you food, popcorn, beer, and an hour and a half of local filminess presented by neighboring Pittsburghers. This month's was a showcase of snapshots (artfully pieced together and dubbed over) by a few of the major newspapers here. The one documentary I can't seem to get out of my head went something like this:

On May 2 (yeeeaaaaah buddy!) last year, the Children's Hospital located by my current workplace closed. It moved to a bigger, better, newer, more colorful building in Lawrenceville (1,000,000 times more appealing than Oakland, dreaded Oakland). What this means is that not only do the beds, diagnostic equipment, linens, charts, bath supplies, computers, and monitoring systems have to move, but the patients and nurses do too! That's something I hadn't actually thought about. There was a systematic way of doing it, and I have only a very small grasp of how it was done. The move was talked up for awhile before the big day finally came. Each patient had a personal ambulance that took him and his nurse to the new facility, about two miles away. The documentary that has infested my thoughts presented the cutest little trached toddler and his mother, as well as the nurse taking care of them over a several day/several week span. I'll leave out the details of this boy's illness. I'll insert a bit about the joy on his face, the eagerness to get better, the motivation, and the uplifting atmosphere. Not all cases with pediatric health are like this experience, I am very well aware of that. I am also very aware of the fact that children tend to be smaller than 260 pound rude, incontinent older adults, i.e. they are way easier to provide bedside care for. This actually may be directly related to the reasons I don't particularly care for my job. I don't know. Should I go to outpatient? A physician's office? Insurance agency? I'm not ready to quit the field. That's not what's supposed to happen. All I'm saying is, once upon a time, I had an idea that included taking care of little kids. And this idea disappeared until a Post Gazette photographer reminded me of that old resurrected wish.

Then again, who likes being low man on the totem pole all over again anyway?

A little humbling death sentence never hurt anyone...

Bloody 'ell, it's sheep!!!

We made it here!!! Aside from the short (~28 hour) delay post-Pgh Snowmageddon, we are intact. Monday morning we arrived to Trafalgar Square and found our hotel. We've been roughing it with pint stops (the n in pint is intentional) roughly every two hours. It's the company I'm with, not me. I'm not sure this is my preferred type of trip. We're (there's 5 of us total) doing slight sightseeing and eating a helluvalotta fried foods.

Best finds thus far:
Lincolnshire pork sausage
Guinness, cask-style
Tesco sandwiches
Digestives!!!!! (actually not a new find)
Space Raiders
Chicken Tikka bits

Ya know, here's something I found. The Trusty LP states that London isn't a bad town to be in if you're a vegetarian (we've got two of 'em in tow). I find that to be semi true. You must must must like Indian food. The McDonalds has a chicken tikka masala wrap. Ahhhh to be at home in Nepal in London.

We're currently in transit to Edinburgh. Funniest notes/central themes of train trip:

nuclear power plants
sheep
nuclear power plants
sheep
see above

That's the jist of this 4 hours ride. And I wouldn't have it any other way.



Unsure of what the next few days will bring. It's pretty fly-by, as far as plan-making goes. I know that a soul night, whisky trail, and haggis haggis haggis will be involved.

Maybe this trip will cause headcheese to be a staple in my little apartment refrigerator.


See ya later, Mom.

Adventures, Adventures

Prior to moving to Pittsburgh, I was told by several people that Pgh never ever ever gets snow. Seemed preposterous to me, as my hometown is only 3 hours away, and the weather is generally pretty comparable. "It hardly snows," they said. "Only two inches a year," they said. "Just gray skies," they said. Well. Last night dumped about a foot and a half on us and we are stranded here, much further away from the airport than I'd like to be. Without an egg in the house to bake a cake.

No big deal though. There are movies to watch, banjos to play, and cats to scratch.

We'll fly out tomorrow instead, with a one hour layover in Philly until we reach London town. And. AND. I'll get reunited with a Mister Tariq Patel from my old Chitwan haunts!