This is going to be a long entry, so if you’re bored by power outages, cute but naughty rats, and the idea of me missing my German cyber GF I’m beginning to suspect I’ll never hear from again, this entry will probably bore the hell out of you. :)

After having both good and bad dreams where Maliheh and I would be happily chatting when she wasn’t telling me how much she hated me, I awoke at 10:30 to the sound of the fan winding down and everything suddenly becoming deadly quiet save for the distant freeway traffic. I knew right away the power went out but wasn’t worried since it’s usually back on in an hour or two.

I couldn’t call anyone since my phone only works with the computer, so as Tom later said, this was our wake-up call saying we should get me a cell phone.

Around noon I went up the hill to see if Jesse was around, but of course he wasn’t. By 2:00 I decided to leave a note in the box on the tree at the fork letting him know that the power had been out for nearly 4 hours, but then I spotted his truck up at his place. So I walked on up and called out to him. The dogs only gave a quick bark or two, then quickly recognized me and wagged their tails happily.

“Yeah, come on up,” I heard Jesse call out, but then he came down a flight of stairs at the side of the house. I could tell he was drunk too, and that getting him to take some action as to finding out what was going on was going to take a little work on my part, LOL.

He asked what was going on and I told him that’s what I came to ask him since my phone was worthless without a computer.

During the half-hour or so I was up there with him, he told me 5 times that he just got in, he asked me 5 times how long the power had been out, and he told me 5 times that his dogs were married and that they’d had 10 kids together. rolls eyes

We were sitting in this little breezeway between his garage and a cement wall built to prevent mudslides. There are decks on both sides of the house, and I guess the actual living space is upstairs over the garage. The house itself is old and ugly looking, but the grounds weren’t as trashy as I thought they’d be. He even has some nice plants up there, some with flowers.

So he got himself a beer and me some water, then said he’d just come back from the bar and heard about some power outage around here, and that they were building a bridge nearby and they might’ve hit something while they were at it.

I suggested he call the electric company and see what they had to say about it, and he said he was “pretty sure” he paid the bill.

You better have fucking paid it! I’m thinking to myself. I wasn’t about to be put out by his drunken laziness or irresponsibility!

So being as drunk as he is, which I would say wasn’t overly drunk, but still obvious enough that he’d had a few, he said he wasn’t sure how to go about contacting the electric company, and could I do it? Resisting the urge to sigh, roll my eyes, and basically beat my head into the wall (and his too), I told him no, I couldn’t because it was in his name. So I told him to go see if he had a copy of his bill because there would be a phone number on it to call. So he ran up what seemed like two flights of stairs. One set was facing the driveway. He then went up a smaller flight of stairs heading away from our place and seemed to go around a deck and into a door heading towards our place.

When he returned with the bill I followed him towards the back where he has a small, but very private, peaceful and lovely little yard. There was a table and chairs as well as a swing hanging from 3 wooden utility poles. The lawnmower I swore I could hear at times wasn’t my imagination either. This area was grassy and I could see he kept it mowed.

He asked if I minded if he let the dogs loose, and of course I didn’t. I could clearly see, though, that if he really wanted to and if he really gave a damn about the peace of others, he could move the dogs into the breezeway area where they wouldn’t be so damn loud down here like they are in the winters. Or so loud further up the hill to whoever’s behind him. More than likely he has them in front to ward off any potential burglars, not that they wouldn’t find a way to get by them if they really wanted to. The poor dogs also only have one small doghouse that barely looks big enough for one of them let alone both of them. The dogs love their freedom as much as the rat loves his. They rolled around in the grass, played with each other, and demanded attention from us.

So anyway, we’re in the yard sitting in the blessed shade. He has even more privacy than we do because of the density of the trees and the steep hill alongside the place. He has no cement wall against the part of the hill in back which is like a vertical wall it’s so steep. I’d hate to be standing there if there ever was a landslide of any kind! You can see tree roots sticking out of the dirt. He doesn’t have as much open space as we do, though, since his place is bigger and the tree line curves inward in back. The only open space is in his driveway, so down here is definitely better for running.

It took him 4 tries to dial the damn 800 number on his cell, saying his fingers are too big for the thing. In a gruff voice, he asks what’s going on, gives his info and that sort of thing. “You people need to get your shit together,” he growls at one point, and I’m frantically shaking my head and mouthing the word “no,” till I realize they put him on hold and no one heard him.

I asked if he was gone on Friday nights and he confirmed that he was. He said he went to Sacramento (though he didn’t say where and with whom) and didn’t come back till early Saturday morning, and how’d I know? The dogs let me know, I told him.

He also said something about going on disability soon due to a bad back. Hmm…not sure if I like that idea. That’d mean less barking, but more of him. The barking is at least a little easier to drown out than his damn motorcycles and other engine gunning he does, even though it lasts longer. I like the idea of him being around more to deal with any potential problems, but it also gives him more time to be a pest.

“Not if his back’s bad,” Tom said, and so I hope it’s bad enough to keep him from being too big of a pest while we’re still here, as selfish as that may sound, LOL.

First he was told by the electric co. that everything was ok and then we headed down to his electrical box. He said the breakers looked ok and that someone would be out to check things out, and I walked back down here.

A few minutes later he came down on the ATV to say that he talked to someone else who confirmed that yes, there was a power outage in the area, it wasn’t just us, and it could be as late as 7:00 before the power was restored. Then he zoomed off, beer in hand and no doubt driving drunk to Sacramento this evening. Hope he doesn’t get killed. Again, I hate to sound selfish, but if he goes, we gotta go. And we ain’t quite ready to go just yet. Not with him working as just a temp.

This is why I like Tom’s idea of getting a travel trailer as a backup if God forbid our often shit luck ever faced us with homelessness that lasted more than the 36 hours we got of it in 2007. We still want a backup vehicle, too.

So after Jesse zoomed off with his beer and the dogs chasing after him, it was 90º both inside and outside. The heat and lack of breeze reminded me of that horribly uncomfortable night in Quartzite, AZ when we left Maricopa on our rough journey up to timber country. I decided to wait outside till Tom got back because I at least had somewhat of a breeze outdoors. Indoors the air was hardly moving at all.

Tom got in with the much-appreciated and much-deserved burgers and fries we’d been depriving ourselves of and looking so forward to, and we ate while I filled him in. By now it was 4:00 and we were contemplating grabbing the laptop and heading out in search of a hot spot to see if there was any news about the outage when the power finally came back on. I practically shouted for joy!

I showered and did the dishes, but held off on the laundry, knowing the well is going to need 8-12 hours of recovery time.

What is it with me and my giving a damn about people that don’t seem to give a damn about me? Do I subconsciously like the challenge or something? Is the chase really that much more fun than the capture? I don’t know how to figure myself out anymore. sighs Maybe I should try to be as unforgiving as I was for so long and quit caring about those who don’t care about me. I don’t hound them and stalk them like Molly does and try to force them to accept me or anything like that. In fact, I pretty much expect not to get very much from them if anything at all. But oh how I hope! It’s that hope I’d really like to kill. Yet here I am hoping Maliheh will one day contact me even if we don’t remain in touch and she just wants to tell me how much she hates me or something like that when my attitude towards her should be: fuck it. Just fuck it!

Do crushes do this to everyone???

I don’t know what country Nane’s in right now, but there were no updates at all on her Facebook page today. Even if I don’t hear from her again, I hope she’s ok. That one I do think I’ll hear from, though. Just not as much as I’d like to.

I keep thinking of the dream I had where I was in the blueberry patch with Maliheh and she was pointing out how Nane almost never comes to my blog when she was telling me I should focus more on those who care about me. She was right, of course. Nane hardly comes to my blog, and all her messages were replies to messages I sent her. I know I should take the advice she gave me in that dream, but if she herself truly doesn’t care, why would she come to my blog and not reject the friend invite? Hmm…life and its many mysteries!

Moving onto simpler things that make at least some sense, I said hi on Tammy’s wall and that things were better for us, and hoped they were good for her and hers.

“What a beautiful letter from you!” she wrote back, saying that she’s glad we’re doing better as she knows we had a hard time. She added that she and Mark are doing well. Lisa’s living with her longtime boyfriend, and Becky’s living with them and dealing with rheumatoid arthritis. They converted their basement into an apartment for her. She’s also getting a degree in business and is a front-end grocery store manager or supervisor. Sarah’s a licensed cosmetologist who owns her own business, but as I know full well, “owning” that business is really renting a space in a salon.

I still can’t say I give a damn about them. I don’t. I do remember some of the good times Tammy and I shared, but my interest in them doesn’t really go beyond just wanting to keep the peace going between us and hopefully not screwed out of anything Mom and Dad may want Tom and I to have after they’re gone.

Today was Mary’s 33rd birthday. I haven’t heard from her in nearly a year, but I hope she’s doing well and that she really does get out of prison next summer. And stays away from the bad boys and any thoughts of getting knocked up.

I love my little ratty, but oh the trouble he gets into! He came into the bedroom, wiggled his butt into the corner, stuck his tail up, and peed. shakes head and sighs And I thought this rat, like most rats, was keeping it all to himself in his cage. He also runs, jumps and climbs like no other rat we’ve ever had before. He leaps on and off the couch and bed like it’s nothing. The little devil also chewed a hole in my shorts.

As for meeting my October 20th story deadline – yeah, right. Keep dreaming! I still don’t think it’ll be much longer than a week or two, but we’ll see. I may or may not work on it throughout the weekend. I have other things I’ll be doing so I just don’t know yet. I want to hurry up and get it finished, but don’t want to rush it either.