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January 18, 2007

Let's Twist!

I hate beating dead horses. I really do. I hate writing and talking about the same topics over and over and over again. Alas, that's all I've got, so I'm looking for interesting twists.

Real estate: Yeah, you know I'm dying to buy a house in Pretty Town that's no longer on the market. And you know that my house recently went on the market. The Twist: for once I'm not just sitting around, looking for random signs that things will work out on their own. Actually, that's not quite right. I'm totally mired in signs once again.

You're aware of our tree situations. In case your not familiar, here's the brief version: this fall, our trees decided to do just that. Fall. Big, massive, old trees. When we start making headway on getting the tree mess under control, another tree mess interferes.

Yesterday, I saw some tree workers in our neighborhood. Not unusual, considering they've descended, carpetbagger-style, on St. Louis. For whatever reason, seeing the tree workers a block away from my house, I decided, "That's it. I'm done with this tree bullshit. We're paying someone to fix it."

Before I had a chance to mention this to B. yesterday afternoon, we were approached by a father-son team from our neighborhood, looking to earn some cash. Do we have any trees we need removed?

Oh, how I laughed. And then how I hired.

While B. was outside, working out the particulars of the tree removal, he talked to another neighbor, one of the many renters on our street. Renter and his "old lady" (his phrase, not ours) actually like our street and are interested in maybe buying our house.

Today, B. talked to our agent. Apparently, he's had inquiries coming in already, too. Now that the tree situation's corrrected, we can get the inside of the house in order and start showing.

I bought my St. Joe statue last week at the coffeehouse in what will hopefully be my new neighborhood in Pretty Town. I intended to buy it at the big Catholic shrine in Pretty Town, but buying it at the coffeehouse? Too perfect to pass up.

My diseased brain: Anxiety and panic attacks. Whee! The twist: Having panic attacks during the day, while never boring, is so passe'. Having them in the middle of the night? Not boring and totally new! For the past three nights, I have woken up in the midst of an attack. At least this morning it happened pretty late - 6 AM - and it happened in the middle of a dream. I rarely remember my dreams, so the two previous dead-asleep attacks didn't seem to be attached to anything. Being able to attach this morning's attack to a nightmare helped matters. Luckily, I had a doctor's appointment for today anyway. Drugs have been tweeked. Perhaps now, when I scream in the middle of the night, I won't wake myself up.

My stupid little dog Murphy: Still stupid. The twist: She's so stupid that she's forgotten why she was terrified of our neighbor's dog last week.

My parents' idiot dog Chiggar: Still a a little too dingoesque for comfort. The twist: He now does tricks. With the use of rolled-up magazines, my mother has taught him to retrive the newspaper so she doesn't have to go into the cold. Only problem is, he only fetches magazines. He likes Birds & Blooms, both for fetching and ripping to shreds.

Clara Jane: Still enjoys playing naked guitar. The twist:Like her mother, she's going through a phase of the Great Big Screams in the Night. It's real peaceful around here. I'm sure that when someone buys our house, they'll hear the night screams echoing through the attic for at least six months.

Music: Yep, still a music nerd. The twist: Let's pretend that I'm not going to mention that today, I was listening to my iPod on shuffle, and had this sequence: "The Late Greats" by Wilco, "Whiskey Bottle" by Uncle Tupelo, and "Chickamauga", also by Uncle Tupelo. Let's also pretend that I didn't stand up in the coffeehouse where I was partaking in a cappucino and scream, "It's a sign!".

Posted by Robin at January 18, 2007 07:52 PM

Comments

I guess yelling "It's a sign!" would be better than yelling "I got drunk and I fell down!"

Hee. Yay for Pretty Town!

Posted by: Blossom's Dad's Ho at January 18, 2007 08:54 PM

We met with a parent today who could use some brain drugs. Oh, the bipolar. Oh, the manic. Oh, no wonder Child is the way he is. She mimicked "gettin' down and prayin'!" with him. I may wake up screaming in the middle of the night.
Fab news on the sales! I'll be in Chicago this weekend, thinking good thoughts for ya!

Posted by: allison at January 18, 2007 09:00 PM

Good luck on the real estate front!

My daughter is a night-screamer too. I call it a "vivid sleeper". She doesn't wake *herself* up, but she does wake up everyone in the house. Blood-curdling, I tell you.

Posted by: barbara at January 19, 2007 11:12 AM

Did the house in Pretty Town sell again?

Still having some panic attacks myself. I understand completley.

Jenna is talking in her sleep, carrying on conversations, and you don't realize she's asleep.

Cassie

Posted by: Cassie at January 19, 2007 02:55 PM

A Chiggar story! That was your birthday gift to me, wasn't it? Totally made my day!

You couldn't possibly be surprised that a guy who refers to his wife as his "old lady" would want to buy in that neighborhood, could you?

Posted by: Dixie at January 19, 2007 06:13 PM

I'll keep sending you my Wilco mojo for luck -- sorry it didn't work for the pretty house in Pretty Town. Good luck on finding another house you like in the neighborhood where you want to live.

My daughter was a night screamer when she was young. Now that she's older, she talks in her sleep.

Posted by: Katya at January 20, 2007 02:26 AM