Tuesday, February 17, 2015


Something strange happened last week, a house behind mine blew up. IT BLEW UP, like BOOM.

It was late Tuesday morning and I was busying myself with work and getting ready for Gregory's arrival the next day. I walked into the laundry room and turned on the washing machine, and as I stood there measuring out the detergent, a loud bang rumbled through the house shaking me and the room. I steadied myself to catch my breath. I had no idea what had happened, but whatever it was, I had felt it through me.

A couple of seconds later and I was running down the stairs, I was sure a large truck had caused the bang by ramming into the front of the house. But thankfully no, the house was intact, and my mother and Fifty were OK. Pulling on my shoes, I ran outside and looked around. From behind house a few doors down, I could see a large cloud of black smoke began to billow into the sky.

It wasn't a normal house fire, it had been an explosion.

The next few minutes were manic; a few of my neighbors came out onto the street and the police arrived, and then miraculously, the survivor of the explosion made his way onto our street. He was walking and lucid but a reddish-black color and his clothes had been blown off of him and were hanging in shreds. He said that all he had done was turn his television on. GAS!

The police said that those of us on my side of the street needed to clear out. Another woman and I made our way down the street banging on doors urging people to leave their homes, no answer, no answer, no answer. And as I ran back into my house to grab Fifty, I was terrified and holding my breath.

Soon police were positioned in our neighborhood blocking off entrances and sirens were heard all over. The smoke cloud changed from black to white, and we were allowed to return home.

It had only been an hour. How had it only been an hour? In only one hour, a house directly behind mine and only three doors down had exploded so ferociously, that it blew out the windows of one house next door, and completely destroyed the other, the police had come, the ambulance had come, Air Life had flown in, the gas company had come (THANKFULLY), and then we were back inside to carry on our day.

And we're all OK; the poor man is doing well, recovering in the hospital with burns covering 80% of his body, Fifty is fine, Gregory arrived, and other than randomly panicking because I constantly think I smell gas, I'm alright.

So here it is, you never know what a day will bring so use them wisely. Use them wisely.

Tuesday, February 3, 2015

le deuxième

// Did you know crayons can burn like a candle for twenty minutes? Yeah, me either. But apparently they do and in case of some blackout emergency, you can use crayons to replace candles in a pinch. My mother informed me of this the other day and after she told me, I said, "but we don't have crayons", so she said, "maybe you should buy some", and then I said, "maybe I should just buy candles." These are the conversations you have when you move back home as an adult.

// Back in December I saw Night At The Museum 3. It was cute, and sweet, and funny, and at the end when it was Robin William's last scene as Teddy Roosevelt, I bawled like a baby. Tears upon tears rolled down my face like I was a distressed infant #ohcaptainmycaptain

// At the movie theater, there were all of these empty seats around us, like loads of them. But guess where a family of five chose to sit? You guessed it, all up in my grill, as in the seat right next to mine. Who does that?! Why do people do this?! Those people bug. I don't like those people.

// My friend Amy is having a baby next month. It's a boy and we're all completely over the moon. She hasn't picked out a name yet but I'm doing everything in my power to get her to name him Fraser, as in Jamie Fraser. She totally should, shouldn't she? Of course she should.

// Is anybody on Poshmark? I am. Just thought I should tell someone.

// There's this viagra commercial on TV here with a Cindy Crawford ripoff in a blue dress who just walks around this empty house brushing her hair and staring at herself in the mirror or out the windows. It's weird and it totally skeeves me out. Does it skeeve you out too? Please say it's not only me.

// Confession: I don't like Target. There, I said it. (Pretty please don't tell the Blogger Police I said that.)

// Tomorrow's my birthday (aka: International Day of Awesomeness), and despite Gregory's and my best efforts, he will not be here for it. Unfortunately he has something in France that he simply cannot get out of on the 10th, but, he will be here on the 11th, so yay. That also means that I get to stretch out my celebrations to another week. Yay, again.

// At a party a few weeks back, an old school chum said how much she envied myself and another friend because we chose a different path, that, traveling/ expat/ gypsy path, and she wishes that she had gotten to experience all of the things that we did. I smiled and told her that yes, experiencing different cultures was wonderful, and I wouldn't trade my life choices for anything, but (and this is a big ol' but), it's a trade off, and I pointed to her kids running around the backyard and the beautiful home that she and her husband have made. You see, we don't have that, we have experiences, and they've been amazing, but, we don't have anything concrete, and as another birthday looms, I can honestly say that that blows (RE: HURRY THE EFF UP NVC). So I'm really, really looking forward to Gregory getting here permanently so we can start to pour some foundation and build something concrete.    
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