Elusive Creatures...

I discovered over vacation that my camera has a time-lapse video function. The other day I got a memo under my door that window washers were going to be working on my building. This video is the inevitable result of these two events.

I know the music's kind of cliched but I couldn't think of a song about window washers besides Barenaked Ladies' 'When I Fall' and that was kind of slow and depressing. Any better ideas?

My Greenish Thumb

This title makes me wonder if Tara still reads this and if she'll bring up The Cactus Incident. I guess we'll just have to see.

One elusive spring day (before the temperatures plunged back into the thirties and we were issued a winter storm watch) I went to Home Depot with a friend to check out paint samples for a semi-illicit painting project we've got planned. More on that later, depending on how illicit it turns out to be. Anyway, Home Depot. I friggin' love this store. The smell, the ridiculous size, the aisles and aisles of stuff I have no use but an inexplicable desire for- it's great. We headed right to paint and attempted to determine what colors of paint were most conducive to study and concentration. And also what colors were the prettiest. I have a few seasons of Trading Spaces watching under my belt so I'm essentially an expert. We grabbed samples of some possible colors (gray with purple accent walls, we are nothing if not full of school spirit) and some light bulbs for me. I tried to find a fuse for a beloved and recently incapacitated desk lamp to no avail. I demand that you care about my mundane day-to-day illumination activities.

And then, an astounding discovery - a display of water lilies that can be grown in containers! That's not even the best part! They were all labeled with the flower's expected color. I began looking through them to see what was available when what should I see but the most wonderful word possible when dealing with colors: changeable. Changeable! Changeable color flowers! Truly, we are living in the strange and glorious future with flowers that float in bowls of water and magically change color.

After purchasing an equally exciting teal hurricane vase from Target, I gathered my supplies on a garbage bag on the floor of my apartment. To begin the process, I immediately fumbled the bag the water lily came in, tumbling it end over end to the floor in a spectacular firework-esque spray of dirt and twine. Shit. Now I had a 50/50 shot of plunking this net bag in right side up. I decided the top was the side that appeared to have some sort of brainy growth beginning to sprout out of it. After all, most people have brainy cranial growths. And yes, I'm aware of the fact that plants sprout various appendages from both ends, and that the disgusting brain growth did look a lot more like roots now that I think about it, dammit, but what's done is done. It needs full sun so it steals some of Sasha's recently recovered sunny window real estate, and I keep my fingers crossed that I didn't doom my new plant friend to an upside down watery grave.

Now I've got to prepare for my weekend guest, Bailey. If you're worried about her safety based on the previous story, you need not fear. I've spent more time with fauna than I have with flora. Besides, it's much easier to tell if a Labrador Retriever is right-side-up. I'm sure we'll be fine.

Update: Hooray! I think I picked the right side! Of the plant!

The Creature

There is a creature that lives somewhere on my floor. Close to my apartment, if my aural depth perception does not deceive me.

All I know about the creature is that it has the shriek of a squeaky dog toy being stepped on. Not very intimidating, you might say. Yeah, you're right. But it is annoying. This thing shrieks constantly. Not normal baby cries, just squeaky toy wails. Normally this isn't a problem, but if I'm trying to study in quiet, this quickly drives me insane. I have yet to lay eyes on this being, but if voice is any indication it has no mouth, only a small vent that causes air to squeal as it rushes in or out. The very thought of this malformed maw horrifies me.

Yes, I know it's probably a child. I think I woke it up one night when I slammed lettuce onto my counter to break its lettuce-neck and make a salad. And I don't care.

Having said that, it's probably some kid with a chromosome abnormality that results in this hideous vocal permutation whose parents struggle daily with the difficulty of raising an atypical child in such a cruel, unforgiving world.

Either way, it' s damn annoying.