Lost and Found

I've had a link to Lilly on this site for about a year and a half. About three and a half days ago I ordered some of her lovely jewellery, which I understand is waiting for me on my coffee table right now. About one half day ago, Lilly, whose name is not Lilly, discovered that we actually know each other, for real, in the real world, really! We worked together at a stewpid little soul-sucking store in Ottawa eight or nine years ago. And here are today. It's very cool. I hope I was always nice to Lilly. I hope I didn't always make her do the shitty jobs. I hope I always let her take her breaks. I fired someone at that store, and I can't remember the details all these years later. I hope it wasn't Lilly. Because now Lilly has my address!

You can watch this discovery unfold in my August 24th post.

Is it just me?

Claims adjuster to Crabby: "Yadda yadda yadda accident benefits yadda yadda insurance yadda yadda your husband may be at fault."

Crabby to claims adjuster: "Haven't you read the police report? My husband was not at fault. The City was responsible, according to the report."

CA to Crabby: "I think I have it here somewhere. Anyway, you may be able to sue your husband."

Crabby to CA: "Why on earth would I do a thing like that?"

CA to Crabby: "Because he was the driver. And you're injured."

I'm sure we all have our own stories about how screwed up insurance companies are. The conversation I had today is beyond... I don't know. It's out of the ball park, it's Sammy-Sosa-distance from reality or reason. I... have... no... words.

Bits 'n Pieces

Two mangey children knocked on my front door (ignoring the clearly posted "Go Away" sign) on Saturday. I noticed immediately that one of them was not wearing any shoes, and that the other one had a dirty face. They were approximately eight to ten years old. "We are collecting money for a school project," the smudgey one announced.

"Eh? What?" Crabby said.
"We need money for a school project."

Of course I sent them scurrying. A school project? I assumed they meant that they had to cut stuff up and glue it to other stuff, but couldn't afford scissors and glue. But maybe their school project was building wells in Africa. I have no idea. What's more important was the absence of a parent, a pledge form, a brochure, shoes... it just smacked of begging.

The next morning, however, I awoke with this singular thought: I ought to have phoned the police. Children disappear off the streets far too often; maybe these two should've been picked up and driven home. Yes? No? Who is responsible?

Mikevil who is very funny recently said "my name is Mikevil and I love Canadian Idol." Well, I'm Crabby and I do too. I really, really do. I especially loved last week's Gor.d.on Ligh.t.foot tribute episode. It made me so happy - except for each time they showed Gordo. He strongly resembles his son, with whom I had brief, er, relations in 1995. More about that some other time, when there's sufficient wine on the table.

What else is up? Not much. I've spent the last several days wrapped in either a heating pad or ice packs thanks to the thing we're not talking about. My garden is neglected and mostly dead, my bathroom is falling apart, and I am eating too much ice cream. But geeze louise, it's good ice cream.