Sunday, August 3



There is a phrase I frequently use:

Some things are better left to professionals.

This is true. Absolutely true. However, I tried to hug a particular professional last weekend at a bar, and took him and a couple o' barstools down with me when I slowly fell to the grungy floor. And now, I'm unsure that things that would be better left to him will be welcome requests. I imagine they would be, but, well . . . .  

Anyway, my problem is the electricity in my apartment. I've blown fuses five times in the last three days. The last time I wasn't even attempting to plug-in or turn-on anything new. I was just sitting here typing and POOF darkness. I'm glad I knew where my cel phone was or I would have had to deal with it until the morning. [I don't know where the candles are. Finding them and acquiring more are items on the "Urgent" to-do list.]

According to the landlady, the previous occupant didn't blow a single fuse the whole time he was here. Apparently, he didn't have similar stuff. Actually, I can't see how he had any stuff. I mean, really, in this heat how could I be expected to watch Sex and the City without the AC on full blast? And, why wouldn't I have three fans running? And, I have to charge my PDA and my phone! And, who really turns off the lights all the rooms they aren't using? The bathroom light is always on when it's dark out and I'm here and awake. I mean, it would be tragic if I fell down on my way to pee, wouldn't it?

[BTW—S&TC: I'm unsure that I could disagree with Samantha's comment about never being an ex-girlfriend from the preview for tomorrow's episode.]