Thursday, May 28, 2009

Impaled by a Cactus

Which is pretty funny considering I live in the mid-atlantic region, where cactus is not a native plant.

I move my house plants outdoors every summer. I have a 6 foot Madagascar Palm that weighs over 100 pounds. I hate moving that thing. It's a challenge every time avoiding all the stickers. This time I was dragging it too fast and it tipped over into my head. Those stickers broke off in my scalp. It's the biggest splinter I've ever had considering those things are about the width of toothpicks and half as long. I was able to work one of them out, but I think there's a little piece still in my head. I can't really see it because it's over my ear, but I can feel a little bump that feels bruised. I wonder if it will ever work it's way out of my scalp or if I'll forever have a piece of that damn plant in my head. I read that ingesting it is poisonous. It doesn't say anything about having a piece of it stuck in your head.

I thought I should tell people what happened in case I die a mysterious death. You can have Dr. House check for Madagascar Palm poisoning. Seems like a pathetic way to die — impaled by a house plant. But it would make good TV.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Good Things are Coming

Want to know how I know that? My neighbor moved out! 

For a year I lived with barking, barking, barking dogs. I swear those two dogs had the worst case of separation anxiety ever. I knew my neighbor's schedule by the time his dogs would bark. He was home a lot when I was so it wasn't so bad, but then he met somebody (or that's what I assume), because he was gone on the weekends all day and all night. He must have come home to walk the dogs at some point, but I don't know when that was because they weren't quiet for long.

Honestly, these dogs barked and howled for 15 minutes every hour. EVERY HOUR until the owner returned. I was getting use to it. I was able to sleep through it. But now that they are gone, I realize it wasn't a solid sleep because I always heard them in the back of my snoozing mind. Now I hear nothing. NOTHING. Sleep now is amazing, like it should be.

Goodbye barking dogs. I believe your leaving is a harbinger of better things to come.