Fuzzies

It's been a lousy couple of days, and what always makes me feel better when I'm having a lousy day are lists of things that make me feel warm and fuzzy, so here goes.

• Knowing that Hot Guy Neighbor seems to go to bed at 10 at night, which seems so cute and early. Happening to catch that moment when his lights turn out. I don't know why, but this makes me feel extremely at peace. (And no, I'm not stalking the idiot. I just sit out on my roof a RIDICULOUS amount of my time home. Because I am a loser.)



• The little old guy a few houses down that came up to me with a huge grin on his face while I was trekking over to the corner store, and told me this story (in cutely broken English):
  
  "I have to tell you story. I did someting sneaky wit your car one day."
  *Getting a bit paranoid*
  "You know how the light of the street was off on off on? [The one street light was broken and would turn off in 15 minute increments] I was so sneaky. When it is off one night, I *RUN* up to you car. It is so tiny. I run up to it, and I measure it wit my feet. I so nervous that someone see me. I measure wit my feet fast. Den I measure *my* car wit my feet. Your car: 11 of my feet! My car: 16 of my feet! And den I see you get out of dis car today, and I tink to myself, I must to tell her dis story. For so long I not know who's car dis is, dis tiny car. And so today I tell you story."
  
  I laugh the hardest I've laughed in quite some time, as he grins to me proudly, with a cute little old-guy mouth only half-speckled with teeth.



• The new Feist video, which is almost too darn cute for its own good.



• A gratuitously long and cutely awkward (in that Napoleon-Dynamite-esque kind of way) conversation about expired condiment packets that I had with the vegetarian boy who works in my building one day.



• Thinking of people I'm slightly afraid of or intimidated by asleep in their bed at night, vulnerabilities unmasked.



• How my cat Zooey came over to me last night while I was crying, squeaked inquisitively at me like she sometimes does, and hopped up on my chest for the first time in nearly a year. How she rubbed her face up against mine over and over and, when she finally got uncomfortable laying on my chest, how she climbed up on the arm of the couch right next to me, and once she got situated, reached out her paw and placed it very gently on my shoulder.

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Clearly Payback for All My Nicknaming

I think I got called "Porch Pussy" yesterday night, and I'm still not quite sure whether to be offended by this seeing as I was, in fact, out on my porch with my vagina. So it mostly just seemed journalistically accurate.

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BACON: .It makes our life healthier!

(Apparently it's a cross-posting kind of week, but I couldn't resist--
my bacon was just too damn cute this weekend...
Read & see more HERE)

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Hell Yes, Mike White. Hell Yes.

"I believe life is magical. It is so precious. And there are so many kinds of life in this life. So many things to love. The love for a husband or a wife. A boyfriend, a girlfriend. The love for children. The love for yourself. And even material things.

This is my love. It is mine. And it fills me, and it defines me. And it compels me on."

- from Mike White's Year of the Dog

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New addition to my harem:

Eddies Argos of Art Brut, because his singing makes me feel sweaty and excitable, and because he sounds kind of like a brat when he sings and that makes me want to bite his earlobes.

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Nicknames from the Annoying Crazy Cat Lady Who's Always Out on Her Roof

I realized the other day, while mentioning a handful of my neighbors in conversation, that I have a propensity for nicknaming people, particularly my neighbors (and I tend to refer to them by their nicknames, even if I *do* actually know their real names). Perhaps this isn't unusual, but it nonetheless struck me as such.

A sampling of nicknames:

1. Old Guy Neighbor (real name: John)--Anyone who has read this blog is already familiar with Old Guy Neighbor. Let me just add, to the sordid variety of tales circulating about him, mention of his two newest irritating habits: a) meowing at my cats long after they've come inside--this is maddening particularly because I find myself PRAYING that someone will be outside while he's doing this so that I can watch it confuse the hell out of them, but this never actually happens; b) singing loudly to himself out the window, and not for short periods of time, sometimes for as long as 1/2 an hour--I find this *insanely* enraging for some reason, because when he does it, it feels like a little kid throwing a temper tantrum in a toystore... I feel like it's done in response to the fact that I haven't talked to him in a few days and he wants to make himself irritatingly known. Yesterday he timed it ever so perfectly while I was struggling to get a heavy chair up my spiral staircase by myself, and I was *so* annoyed by it that I actually muttered to my cats "I'm gonna fucking *STAB* him" for really no reason and then felt horrible afterwards (I blame video games and action movies).



2. Hot Guy Neighbor--also Taxi-Driving Neighbor (who doesn't actually drive taxis, that's his friend I've realized). Hot, a guy, and my neighbor. Voila--nickname.



3. The Bleeder (I know his actual name but will withhold it here for privacy's sake)--Another of my neighbors, so nicknamed because I actually ran braless and barefoot through his blood which was splattered all over his kitchen floor late one night after he accidentally slit open his wrist. He has this weird habit of clapping deafeningly loud in a tri-clap rhythm every once in a while, for no apparent reason, and it makes my skin crawl.



4. Harry Potter (aka. Neighbor Formerly-Known as Nice Neighbor")--Another neighbor. I blame my friend D for this nickname since when we were out drinking together one night, I whispered to him, "Hey, that's my Nice Neighbor sitting over at the other table there," and my friend D responded by asking, "Which one? Harry Potter?" And I'll be fricking damned if he ain't the spitting image. *Sigh*



5. Russian Mafia Guy--An ex-neighbor. He used to live below me and pump his bass really high to horrible shitty dance music. I would, in turn, stomp on the floor. He, in turn, would shout what could only have been threats and obscenities at me in Russian as he stood inside his sliding glass door and I tried to get into my car. Every time I turned over the ignition, I expected the imminent explosion which, thankfully, never came.



6. Tori Amos--Another ex-neighbor. She had a thing for playing Tori Amos. She looked absolutely nothing like her though.



7. Front Neighbor Who is Apparently Still in Middle School--This neighbor likes to blast the most *obnoxious* pop music in her apartment while her female friends are over, and they apparently sing and dance to it, at the top of their lungs. I am torn whenever I hear this, as I find it terribly cute when adults act like joyful little kids, and yet when I have to listen to them act like shitty middleschoolers at 3am, I find this a lot less adorable.



8. The Nice Short Guy Who Looks Like His Dogs--Self-explanatory.

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