2013/01/28

Nothing changes, yet nothing stays quite the same... TMI post.

So, many of you will have already heard these stories once or twice, but I will repeat them here for the benefit of those who have not already been subjected to my indecencies.  The retelling of these stories will also serve to provide the background for today's adventure.



I guess I'll just lay it all out there and then fill in the blanks...

I don't like wearing pants.  It's not that I prefer to wear something else - like a skirt or shorts or even stretchy pants - I just prefer to be sans pants.   I rarely wear a bra anymore and quite frankly I sometimes go without a shirt, too.  This means I can sometimes found practically naked, in the comfort and privacy of our own home.

This was a lesson that the meter-reader learned one summer day when I was exercising in the back spare room.  If you don't want to bleach your eyes, don't go peeking into people's homes.  I am sure that this particular meter-reader will never again peep.

It also happens that I sleep naked.  This was never really a problem until we (us and our neighbours) shared the cost of a survey for our two properties.  The survey company gave us a date for completion, but nothing so accurate as a particular day for the measuring to take place.

As a shift worker, one day that summer, I happened to be sleeping in our room - the front room of the house - when I was rudely awakened by my dog growling.  I opened one eye and looked in the general direction of his gaze.  There, standing right next to partially obscured, but wide-open window was a member of the survey crew.   Petey, my dog, sensed that I was awake and immediately started barking.  I saw the crew-member startle and look behind him.  I'm not sure what the guy saw, but I thought it best to use camouflage best practices - not move and hope the sheets obscured my shape enough to hide me.

The third pantless-adventure involves four young men and some whispering.  I was laying on the couch at approximately 10pm one summer night when I heard some whispering between the houses.  With the houses in our neighbourhood less than three feet apart, I naturally assumed that it was my neighbour's grandchildren coming home from a late night sports engagement - a hot summer night, with all the windows open and they were so considerate as to be whispering.

The whispering went on for quite some time before I was curious enough to get up and see what was going on.  I was quite surprised to look out the side living room window and right into the left ear of a young man.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"What?!" he said.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" I bellowed.

At that point, I scrambled for the front door, out on the front lawn and turned the corner in time to see him and three younger buddies high-tailing out from deep between our two houses.  I chased the four boys down the block, turned and chased them down the next alley, turned and half way down the next block before I realized that I was wearing neither shoes nor pants.

At that point, I scrambled back home for my pants and told Laura to call the police.  I ended up chasing the boys using the back alley motion-detection lamps which illuminated their path as they scrambled past.

Needless to say I gave up the chase when I passed into a public park and river, which was not illuminated.  By the time I got home, the police were waiting.   I don't know what I intended to do if I'd caught one of the boys, but I know that one of us would have had more dealings with the police.

All of this brings me to today's happenings.

As is our usual morning routine, I assisted the boy with getting dressed, eating breakfast and shepherding him to the bus.  I was then riled up by the prospect of dealing with BellAliant in the never-ending saga of switching my cell phone from Pre-Paid service to "Post-Paid" service.  I've been trying to do this for almost a month now... and it's another long story.

Nonetheless, I headed out to the mall to get my cell sorted out once and for all and to get my lovely, flowing locks chopped off.  Sorry folks, my pre-New  Year vow has been broken. I simply cannot stand growing out my hair any longer - a hair cut was also on the agenda.

After getting my phone sorted out (with two free months and an $18 credit on the third), I was feeling pretty great.  But the prospect of getting my hair cut had me absolutely giddy.

Phone fixed, hair chopped and I was livin' la vida loca, baby!

I came home around 11 (our house has so many south-facing windows that even in the middle of winter the temperature indoors can be as high as 30 degrees C), stripped down and prepped my hair for bleaching.  I was about half way through the process, rinsing my hair at the kitchen sink when I heard Truman issue a low growl.

Please understand this - you could walk into my house, and my dogs might get up and greet you.  Or... they might just open an eye, deem you to be acceptable (whatever that means) and go right back to their busy snoozing schedule.  They rarely growl and even less frequently bark.

I glanced quickly out the dining room window from behind the kitchen sink and did not see anything, except Tru standing there wagging.  In the next split second a hand and foot came up the steps and in front of our dining room door... passing one window and standing in front of our door - which is also a giant window.

I'm not sure how much he saw, but I know he saw something as I ducked behind the bar.

And so my life's pattern continues.  Destined to be seen whilst naked, despite living modestly in the privacy of my own home.

It's quite reassuring to know that nothing really ever changes.  Oh, except my hair turned out pretty darn good this time!

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