The mice that brought darkness to a small town…

There I was… happily working on assignments, with mind-numbing television, and a lovely electric fire for ambiance. Without warning, darkness descended. Damned ghosts, I thought (no pun intended).

I trundled downstairs, into the cavernous 130 year old basement to check out the electrical panel. Flicking breakers at random resulted in one room after another being rendered without power. “What is this mysteriousness*?” I wondered. As any modern social media addict will do, I ranted on Facebook. Within minutes, my phone rang. I answered, and the calling party hung up. Not too creepy, as I’m lighting candles all over my living room. The phone rings again. “Hello?” I answer, hesitantly. “Hi, it’s ____. Turn all your breakers off and get out of the house, now.”

Well that’s a fine how-do-you-do.

After being convinced that if I stayed in my house I would die a fiery death, I made a few more phone calls. Being a holiday, the thought of the cost of a 24-electrician was frightening. Enter awesome neighbhourhood friend. After dismantling the electrical panel, this was discovered….10300980_10152636860976568_2321431037697625543_n

Food on one side, bedding on the other. Mice. Turns out the little buggers had been piddling all over my breakers for years. Ermiony (please see previous posts) managed to deplete my mouse population, but not soon enough. And, clearly, my six cats are seriously slacking. Everything was corroded, and every time I flicked a breaker off an then on again, I was breaking them. Everything dangerous and broken were shut off until further repair and I settled into a weekend of semi-darkness.

As has already established in previous posts, my favourite hobby lately is napping. Having the stress of school, and potential house explosions and/or fires, you can imagine how much I slept when I finally crashed. When I awoke the next day (no need to name a time, that’s just embarrassing) I discovered that I had cut power to houses within a 10 km radius. For four hours! It had to have been me. There’s no other explanation.

Turns out it was a coincidence… or so they tell me…

*Insert multiple swear words in place of mysteriousness…

Duelling idiots

I’ve never hidden the fact that the general public pisses me off. I like people, individually, even in small groups. Heck, I even love some of them. But when you get nameless, faceless, masses of humans together, they all meld into one mind-numbing, for-the-love-of-everything-sacred-someone-hand-me-a-glass-of-wine assemblage.

Take driving, for example. Why, in the name of all that is holy, when there are two lanes in which one can drive, it’s inevitable that two cars will drive side-by-side at the same speed. They won’t even be doing the speed limit. It’s like one idiot started to pass another idiot, and then thought “hey, this could be fun…”, thereby hijacking every car in both lanes behind them.

Take shopping malls, as another example. Why do people feel it’s necessary to stop dead in their tracks when they know people are behind them. The worst ones do this, and then promptly turn around and glare at you if you made the mistake of bumping into them. By the gods people, I’m not psychic, but I might turn psycho if you try to make me feel like this was my fault. I did not want to crash into a total stranger, I usually try to refrain from touching people I don’t know. I’m not a germaphobe, but I do find it inappropriate.

The worst ones, however, are the sidewalk/hallway hoggers. You know the ones… The sidewalk, or hallway, is only three people wide, but three people walk abreast and don’t move out of our way. Sidewalk hoggers suck, because you’re usually forced onto the grass, or better yet, into the road – usually in front of on-coming traffic. Hallways, as you may recall, have walls. Last time I checked, I could not walk through them. So, by not moving out my way, you are now threatening to body check me into the boards (being Canadian, I had to use the hockey metaphor). Yet, if I do not move our of your way, stop dead right in front of you, and let you pass around me like I’m Moses parting the idiot sea, I’m the asshole.

On any given day, I experience at least two of these horrifying social graces. It’s no wonder I go home, hug my cats, and drink wine.

Reality check

As I trundle through every day, trying to keep my head above water, I will occasionally stop and wonder  what the hell I’m doing. I talk to my classmates every day, and am active on the social media boards, but every now and then it dawns on me… Holy crap, I’m in school and learning a whole whack of new stuff. (No wonder I nap when I can.) I just finished a project that had me create a website without touching existing HTML, and using only CSS code. I hated it, and then I loved it. I know I got help, but I keep bringing it up on the screen and I can’t believe I did that. Even my prof liked it. I thought it was simplistic, but he saw it as artistic. That made me happy.

On a personal note, I’m still happy. It’s weird. Yesterday, I stood in the arms of a man that I have fallen in love with, and was fascinated by the fact that this person exists. As I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him, I couldn’t help but marvelling that he was real. Flesh and blood. Free will – and he chooses to be with me. And he thinks I’m perfect. I still question his sanity, and double check how much he’s had to drink when he says stuff like that…

But, of course, the universe has to keep me humble. I’m now mortally wounded again, with the second sprain of my left ankle in three months. I’d love to say that I was battling zombie garden gnomes – because that has happened before, only that resulted in a fractured nose and concussion. It has been suggested that demonic possession could have been the source of my fall. I think that has a far more adventurous ring to it than “I missed a step”…

What the hell?

Okay, it’s bad enough that a whole new year snuck up on us, but how in the hell is it already the end of January?!? Valentine’s Day is not yet here, yet the Cadbury bunny is already laying eggs on television. The February thaw, followed by a deep-freeze from hell, has yet to happen, yet the spring clothing line is emerging in stores. On Facebook, some are posting that it’s only 52 days until Spring, while others are posting that that’s it’s only 47 weeks until Christmas. Incidentally, I want to smack the latter.

I often find other people’s priorities askew, but then again, who the hell am I to question them? I’m not a fan of winter, so I’m all for anyone who posts a countdown to Spring. I’m not a Christmas person, but I’m exceeding giddy to think that it’s only 277 days until Halloween. The events I tend to base my life on usually revolve around the Pipe Band world. Parades start trickling in at the end of June/Canada Day, the Maxville Highland Games are the August Long Weekend, from mid-August to the end of September we are busy, and then from the week before Remembrance Day until early December, we are absolutely insane.

This year, I’ve added school and a significant other into my life. I have a strange feeling that I’ll be wishing everyone Happy Christmas in a matter of (what seems like) weeks…