Apples and Going Bananas

So, I had a hot time yesterday.

Played phone tag with the girl all day.

She sure has a cute voice. Sure wish I could put it with a face.

I know what she looks like. Sort of. It was over two weeks ago, and I only saw her for about twenty minutes.

Finally got a hold of her. We tried to find a time, but she is really busy, and I'm mildly busy. We were jokey about it, so that is a good sign.

She said she was going to bring her day planner to prove she is this busy and not just blowing me off.

I said I believed her, that I wasn't going to think of her as malicious right from the start. I told her I would give her a couple of dates to show how malicious she is.

We settled on a coffee date next Friday. She had to work that day, and I have my show at night. I don't know if she will then come see my show. Isn't it funny that I would feel really vulnerable having her see my show. It's like seeing me naked, only less funny.

Then, after rehearsal I called my roomie to see if he and his X were here, and should I join them for drinks.

He said get home. There has been a fire.

Panic isn't quite the word to describe what I felt. Oppressive does it better.

I thought that all I had left was the ripped blazer and shirt and jeans on my body. I thought of rebuilding, and how tough and expensive that would be.

I thought of my cat.

Pulling up to firetrucks spraying down your home is a unique experience. You sort of feel a sense of authority. Hey, that's my home, you feel like saying to them. How dare you spray water all over it.

You feel like you can just walk in the front door, and then you look at the seven to ten hulks who are the firemen, and you realize you have no place here anymore.

Obviously, my home is still here. My cat is alive.

One of the junk cars that this ditzy artist in the building keeps parked caught fire. It blew up. My car is usually parked two away from that one. Had it been there, I would have no car.

The fire burned up into the building. Huge black streaks adorn our exterior. It looks like an Outback ad.

The apartment was filled with smoke. So much, in fact, that you couldn't see across the room.

BGR started throwing open windows, and I searched for my cat. Thank god he is small and, when frightened, hides under the bed. It probably saved his life. Being so low to the ground, he didn't get asphyxiated.

We started up five fans, and within a half hour it was like someone had burnt dinner.

Everything still smells. I guess smoke damage is that you never get the smell out. Yeah!

Still, I felt incredibly lucky. I still have my cat, and my car, and all my stuff.

That momentary future, with nothing, was dark. God bless those that are there.

Another hug your children moment brought to you by the makers of Life!