Two posts in two days? Believe it, kids.

Did I miss the warnings about a tropical storm headed my way?

I love me some weather, but sweet-balls-of-fire! that thunder is terrifying.

Here's the deal:

My hands are a bit shaky.  I've had an interesting morning, and since I couldn't fall back asleep, I told myself I'd hop over to my desk and whip out my first journal entry in...um...since the fifth grade.

Okay, lies.

I have hidden and humiliating records of my high school crushes in the form of so-called-journals throughout Jr. High and the better half of my high school years.  Nasty, nasty stuff...

I bought a cute new journal yesterday at Marshal's, with the intention of keeping bible study notes, but this morning I had it in my head that I ought to start journaling.  Talking out my feelings, man.  It's supposed to be good for you, right?  Well, my hand grew tired three lines in, and my handwriting was annoyingly messy so instead I hopped onto ol' reliable -- the laptop -- where handwriting is always. awesome.

Moving on, and back to my quivering hands.

I woke up around 4:45 this morning to banging on my neighbor's door.

(A bit on the freaky side when your walls are paper-thin and you live in a city where the evening news is a constant stream of triple homicide.  Pity me, pity me.)

Anyway, it startled me awake so I sat up in bed and turned on a light to listen and make sure the banging was indeed next door, and not on my own door.  When it continued, I grew a bit nervous, wondering if my neighbor (a young lady who lives my herself) was alright.  I hopped out of bed and made my way downstairs to double check my locks since the banging was getting louder.  Lucky (not) for me, right as I was checking my locks, the keyhole to my own door began to jiggle

I just accidentally typed jibble.  Not jiggle. 
Jibble. 
That word is hiliarous. 
I think I just found Jody's new nickname.

Then my own door started gettin' the bang (again...hilar) and a drunken male voice started hollering for Jenny.  I pounded back on the door and assured him there's no Jenny, that he'd be much better off getting the bleep out of here, then pounced up the stairs to stare at Jody's gun and wonder if I'd ever have the balls to use it, should the horrifying opportunity present itself.

Anyway, Drunky-McGee slurred several Sorry's then moved back over to my neighbor's door.  Another ten minutes later, and he was gone. 

Yikes.

So since I like drama AND attention, I thought I'd best hop onto the world wide web and tell everyone how brave I was!

I'm so brave.

Only...I forgot to mention that all of this was followed with a tearful phone call to my husband, asking him to please make the scaries go away.

That's it.  It's raining like a motherbleeper and a puddle has gathered inside my living room.  Awesome.  The happiest of Saturdays to you all!