So I live in a sexy old condo built over 100 years ago and named after a possibly-folk hero of old. I always seem to be attracted to these buildings…IDK why but they just feel homey.
I could tell u hundereds of odd stories and even had a few ghastly encounters.
Well I was doing the old SundayOff Sleepin when I was jolted awake by a feeble sounding firealarm. I was instantly aware and discerned that there was no damn fire. But I heard this…waterfall outside my hallway door….i had to investigate.
Fresh cigarette in lips…i undid the deadbolt and looked up. Excellent. I got blasted with the indoor sprinkling system that was flooding the entire hallway. I slammed the door and lit the cigarette inside.
Made a super dim instagram vid of it.
Eavesdropped as the maintenance dudes (very cute thru the peephole i might add) tried to figure out wtf. They slowed it down but….they strategically placed some industrial sized buckets all over the hallway.
I went back to bed….eyeing a sprinkler on the ceiling above my bed with a meanace on. I figured it was a nightmare so i tried to go back to sleep so I could wake up to the REAL 2PM
But…the firealarm started spazzing out in some weird brand of 2180s techno….so alas…i left. Now I’m hiding at my friends house…..and shopping on craigslist for scuba gear..
Think Johns, Dicks, and B.J.s have it bad? Try being named Maud in medieval England.
A lot of little
Henry has Hank. Margaret has Peggy. Susan, Sue. Daniel, Danny. We call these diminutive versions of names pet names or hypocorisms, if we want to get fancy about it. In English, we frequently form these names by shortening the given name and adding the –y soundto the end of it. Hence, Chrissie or Sammy. Hank and Peggy illustrate that there are other ways of forming such diminutives, of course. Such is the case for Maud. And this where things got a little messy–and hairy.
Billie Ann Doner is mom to 28 year old Casey. Born in ’86 with Autism & a severe form of Epilepsy (Lennox-Gastaut)
Casey and I just had the pleasure of meeting a beautiful soul. We were in the Vinita, OK. Walmart and, as is always our policy, we were making a beeline to the toy section first because Casey does his shopping and then is happy to ride along while I do mine.
As we neared the toy aisle I noticed a young boy maybe 8-10 years old come out of the toy section. We passed him but as we turned into the aisle I noticed in my peripheral vision that he had turned around and was behind us.
Casey was looking into each side aisle as we passed giving me directions.
“Nope, not this one, keep going…oh there’s Thomas the Train aisle, keep going.”