Happy Day-Before-Your-Actual-Leap-Year-Birthday, Bob!

posted by paula 10:35 AM

Happy Birthday Lynsey!

posted by paula 4:05 PM

My first official house fire.
Our dryer has been ‘acting up’ for a good three years now. The units are in a closet, which like many of the things in our apartment was poorly planned and is much too small to allow room for both the washer, dryer and the necessary ventilation to cool the dryer. The dryer itself is a classic – probably one of the first good ol’ GE electric models ever made. And I remember my mom having a dryer exactly like the one we have – two dryers ago, that is.

Since the day I moved in (over three years ago) I’ve been told that the reason my dryer stops is because it’s overheating; because the hose that provides ventilation is too cramped to provide adequate ventilation. So we dry with the dryer pulled out of the closet so far that we can’t close the closet door. Having been through this subject numerous times, with numerous managers, I’ve given up on actually resolving the matter and have conceded to picking my battles carefully.

And I’ve set things on fire before – but never in my own house. Never in a residence that I share with 30-some other people and never almost-out-of control. Never more than the casualty of a towel that got to close to the oven or a match that mistakenly dropped on the floor. That is, until today.

The dryer, the one that’s been acting up, the one that I was told “was definitely NOT a fire hazard” and would remain working for years to come -- that same dryer -- started on fire this morning. Admittedly, it’s been getting worse and worse over the past two weeks, until I noticed that the heating element at the back of the dryer stays on although the drum stops turning. Luckily, I was home when it did this its last and final time before going down in flames. Luckily, I thought that something ‘sounded odd’ when I turned it on for the last time and luckily, I came out of the bathroom to double check on how quiet the big ol’ thing was purring away, only to open the door of the dyer and be engulfed in a big, white cloud of smoke. Naturally, I pulled the clothes out, as one is prone to do when they see their Victoria’s Secret underwear in flame. As I dumped the casualties on the floor and the smoke cleared, I noticed the fire at the back of the drum and of course, did what anyone would do; with a clear and controlled voice, I casually uttered profanities and took the Lord’s name in vain a time or two. And luckily, probably from some obscure fire safety video in grade school, I remembered to unplug the problem at its source, refrain from dousing it with water or a fan and prayed that it went out. The Almighty must’ve heard my exclamations and He responded, but neglected to clear the apartment of the smell of burnt cotton and silk.

Hours later, the problem is solved, after my insisting that the dryer be replaced although the maintenance guy said that it sounded like it “just needed a new motor.” And of course, it was replaced with the same model, equally as old, but much more festive with splattered paint from whatever hell of a storage space it was sitting in.

I think this is the year we buy a house.

posted by paula 1:27 PM

3:07 a.m.
The sound of a basset hound howling two feet from your bed in the middle of the night is comparable to that of your city's tornado sirens going off. Either one makes you jump out of your skin.

posted by paula 7:34 AM

Snake Pit
The other morning I woke with a start, realizing that my very last dream of the night had almost startled me awake with the help of a full bladder. It was mid-toilet-bound-stumbling that I not only vividly replayed the last dream in my head, but realized for the first time that it was a recurring dream.

Some time ago I dreamed of mice. Now I am dreaming of snakes or more specifically, one snake.

A few times now, I’ve been dreaming of what I knew in my childhood as a Pine Snake or more technically, an Elaphe vulpina. Native to Wisconsin, Minnesota and Illinois and not to be confused with one of its Jersey or Kentucky brothers, I’ve always known the Pine Snake as an imitator. Completely harmless, they try to rattle their tails and hiss like other snakes to appear like Rattlesnakes, Bullsnakes or Copperheads but the noise is all a show as they’re nonvenemous and usually easily spooked. After some research, I’ve come to find out that most people might better know the Pine Snake as a Fox Snake.

The dreams themselves are quite simple. There is usually only one snake, which I find in the course of daily activity – hiding under something, and it usually spooks just as easily as I am spooked by it. In this particular dream, I found it someone else’s house and since it never occurs to me that the snake is harmless, my intent in this particular dream was to remove it from the house. In the process of doing so, the snake and I partake in some little dance like one would with any sort of poisonous object, trying not to get infected by it in the process of its removal. Ironically and inexplicably, Friday is in most of these dreams and he pursues the snake in a more playful manner. In fact, he’s usually the one to discover the reptile.

Once, if I remember correctly, I was bitten in the dream with little to no repercussion – perhaps a mild infection at the bite, but I recovered quite quickly.

Although I can’t quite remember the circumstances which provoked such a dream in the past, I’m really rather interested in the irony under which this one occurs. This particular dream occurred the same night that I found out some rather important information about a close friend – which I felt should have been told to me by said friend, but instead was found out through other means. Given the nature of snakes and their symbolism for deception, the dream rings pretty true to actual circumstance.

And who says that dreams are completely nonsensical?

More on the rest of the weekend later.

posted by paula 10:02 AM