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09.30.04
I'm only happy when it rains (not really)

Last night, after being without power for four days, a lamp that once belonged to Hula's deceased father glowed red a couple of times. An eerie dim and deep red that caused me to think that perhaps Hula's dead father might be attempting to communicate with me from the beyond. If he was indeed doing so, would he yell at me about the way things turned out for us? After sufficiently creeping myself out, I wandered out the front door to see if any utility guys were working out there, but mostly just to get the hell away from that spooky lamp. I ran into my neighbor who also reported lights flickering. We were one of four houses in our area without power and it seemed unlikely that Hula's dead father was sending a message to her through a single lamp as well, and we rejoiced at the notion of blessed electricity being restored. 

We spied nobody from GRU, but remained hopeful and went our separate ways to further swelter in our respective homes.

Maybe three or four hours later, two guys showed up in a utility truck--they stretched out a long pole towards a transformer box on a telephone pole in front of my house and flipped switch. 

ELECTRICITY HAPPENED TO MY HOUSE IMMEDIATELY AFTER THAT.

Like magic. I couldn't have been happier if David Blaine showed up
himself with my name burned onto his stomach and bearing individually wrapped watts. Sweet Baby Jesus in heaven, while I love the candles and the lack of distraction caused by television and the internet, I am mighty tired of playing Little House on the Prairie over here. 


There is no reason for the picture of the goat other than I would like to have him for a pet and I'd more than likely name him Captain Crunch. Also, if someone could explain why this shows up in a Google image search for baby goats, I'd be much obliged. What the hell is going on there?

 

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