I realized recently that most of my friends and family have no idea what my house looks like, yet it is a house I have lived in twice for extended periods. The first picture was stomped upon by ghosts, but you can see my legs in the corner of the door. The rest of the picture shows some of our Halloween decorations (the ghost manikin with army gas mask/rain coat that was in the tree was moved into my closet last night to scare me... and then into the shower to scare people in the morning). The second picture is my room mate Seth on our roof. I guess I forgot how great our roof is until John and Corie came to visit last week and we went up. There is a good view of the National Cathedral from up there. We once fashioned a grappling hook to try to cross from our roof to another, but that is a different story. Also, there is an unexplained hammock on the roof.
I usually have coffee with Seth and Abby (who took the picture) in the morning. On the best mornings he tells me the plots of 70s horror/giallo movies I am too offended to watch, and she answers every question in the negative. On bad days, we retire to our respective rooms and return to sleep. This morning Jesse woke up around the same time as us, but instead of coming up stairs from his basement the first thing he did was go into the music room and play thrash metal riffs.
This blog entry was way too blog. I'll try to stop that in the future (by returning to my past self through a time vortex and warning me).
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This year I am wearing a Krazy Kat costume for Halloween.
As a treat, I am posting some Nancy Dupree songs. She was a music teacher in Rochester who, during the late 60s, let her elementary school classes make up songs about the things that mattered to them. The kids sang them and someone from Smithsonian Folkways archived them as the 'Ghetto Reality' ablum. I found the songs the other day, and now, as a Totality exclusive, I will share two glorious Halloween songs with you:
Nancy Dupree Choir - frankenstein
Nancy Dupree Choir - Bag Snatchin'
If you live in D.C., swing by my house. Jesse made a giant paper mache giraffe's head with demon horns and is going to walk on stilts and grab at children with lengthy monster claws. All this and our neighbor, who we thought was mean, gave us a giant bag of king size snickers bars to hand out, because she is going out of town. Paper mache guts will also be provided.
If not, I might go to Black Metal Mass tonight. Whether it is in a graveyard or abandoned factory, authentic metal kids with naturally feathered bangs will be there dressed in Medieval clothes, swinging battle axes and singing Norse hymns about the greatness of Thor and Odin!
On Asgard!
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I drove John to the airport this morning. On the way back I was pulled over for touching the white of the crosswalk at a stop sign, then they tacked on a hundred dollars for the expired registration on the car I was borrowing (total=$150). Then, at home, a letter from Bank of America was waiting on me. Seems they never made the transfer I requested to open a new account, and didn't bother telling me they cancelled it, so the account had accrued a hundred dollars in overdraft fees (total=$100).
Remember, in 80's movies when people's credit cards would be over the limit and the cashier at the fur coat store or fine dining restaurant would cut the card in half in front of them, and they would look destroyed? That is the kind of card I want; the one that makes me look destroyed immediately, but doesn't hit me with fees over time.
When did it become okay to charge someone 35 dollars on a ten dollar debit and give them a negative balance? If I don't have ten dollars, I surely don't have 45 dollars. Shouldn't that be illegal? Is it not usurious? Please, just tell me I have zero dollars in front of a bunch of people, so I can go on with my day and not spend the whole afternoon with four people from the bank. In the end, it would have been cheaper to go to a payday loan/check cashing scam place than the McBank.
I cancelled my account at the bank and renounced my residency in the District. My money is now found in a coffee can under my house (and has been invested in a civil war commemorative plate). I await refugee status approval from the Romulan Star Empire.
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