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That's right, stalkers. I'm home alone. Come on over and make hoot-owl sounds outside my window! Watch me fumble with my Maat stun gun and dial 911! It's sure to be a blast! Hula left for Chicago Friday morning leaving me in charge of the lawn, in charge of the morning dog play, in charge of the trash, in charge of the modem, and in charge of the remote control. 

In charge of the remote control.

Oh my God, I'm giddy with power. Keeping in mind that I have no time to watch television, I was in a taping frenzy this weekend. Pollack, Velvet Goldmine, The Red Violin, a gaggle of Queer Eyes, a bevy of Road Rules and Real Worlds, a couple of count-down shows on VH1, Big Brother (which I missed because I taped the wrong station), and The Secrets of Hitler's Wonder Weapons. 

I was in charge of the remote control! 

I have no idea when I will watch all of these shows, but I have big plans for the VCR this week. Big Plans. I might have to cash in on some sick time at the House of Pain in order to reap the rewards of my new-found power. Though I suspect I'm having much more fun taping than I ever will watching all this junk.

Lessee, what else. Last weekend Isabel was stirring up the waves in Jacksonville. Hula and I took the pups to Neptune beach and we were surprised by all the surfer dudes who arrived with us at the ungodly hour of 8:00 AM. The waves were positively puny compared to what came later, but they were digging it nevertheless. When the puny waves came close, however, Ouija and Theo cowered and tinkled themselves in fear. Poor buddies!

Aside from that respite, most of the rest of the last couple weeks involved a lot of OT at the House of Pain, a lot of packing and sorting of books, a lot of moving around of computer equipment, a lot of list-making and planning out the next few months, and a lot of anxiety. I was so filled with the  fear of being alone and that Hula would grow intellectually while I would stagnate, that it never occurred to me that all this might be a little fun for awhile. 

If the last couple of days are any indication, everything is going to be A-OK. Not that I'm any further along at being intellectually stimulated, but I've had fun with the remote, joined a club that just may have me jumping out of a plane by January, determined Baby Fred is a "go" come February, have a list of science and math texts ready to tackle in order to get me accepted at the U of F next fall, wrote up a plan to completely train Theo so that he's reached Ouija's level of obedience by December, made a commitment to not isolate as I so want to do, but to accept social invitations for the next three months, and have some ideas about redecorating that I might try before Hula and Baby Fred come home (courtesy of the Queer Eyes--I have no sense of fashion, decorating or direction).

Then again, you'll probably just see an update on that night I'm certain to have in the near future when I wake up at 2AM, disoriented from a bad dream and convinced my house is haunted, or that there are real-live and not-at-all-dead intruders whose intent is to cause me physical harm, or that I'm dying of a grave and swift illness that will take me by morning.

I am woman. Hear me whimper.

First Signs of Isabel