Sandwiches and Spooks

        In keeping with my new found affinity for The Sopranos, today I ordered "The Godfather" at my favorite sandwich place, Tubs Gourmet Subs.  It's definitely worth the trip up Lake City Way (which is hard to believe, I know.)  I felt pretty bad ass eating this amazing Italian delicacy- obvi.

Diiiiiid I mention that we are moving into a building called "The Florentine?" Ayyyyy!

        I didn't feel so bad ass last Saturday night when we stayed at our friends, Carly and Joe's, house in North Portland.  One word.  Haunted.

I wish this was the only spirit I had encountered last weekend

        Now, don't get me wrong, I've lived in a haunted apartment building before... 

The Grosvenor Arms in Denver, CO

        There were funny little things about living at the Grosvenor Arms.  The elevator would take you to the wrong floor.  I would hear funny noises- who cares?  There were rumors of ghost sightings as well, and I actually hoped to see something, but never did.

        Carly and Joe's ghost has a name.  Ruby.  Ruby is nice- playful, even.  Shortly after we got to their house, they were telling us stories about finding shades twisted open when they were certain to have been shut,  windows and screens flung open that they didn't even know could open, footsteps running upstairs when all the pets and everyone else were downstairs.  All that stuff can either be dismissed as bad memory or creaks in an old house, perhaps. 

        I was standing facing away from a heating vent when I felt a tap on my lower back.  I thought something flew out of the heating vent.  I thought their cat attacked me.  I thought something fell out of my hood (sometimes I find food in the hoods of my shirts- duh.)  I turned and there was nothing.  Was Ruby playing tag with me or am I just a freak?  Don't answer that.  Still, this is a quirky little story that is easy to dismiss, right?  Fuggeddabout it.

        Then Sunday, when we were sloth-like on our respective couches and love seats all four of us witnessed something weird.  I was about to doze off for a nap, when I heard my empty Gatorade bottle making a ruckus.

I was laying on the couch that is empty in this pic

        I opened my eyes to give Eric a bad time because I assumed he had clumsily knocked the bottle off the table (poor Eric.)  What I saw was that his feet were planted firmly on the floor- nowhere near the coffee table.  Carly and Joe were just as inculpable.  I am not kidding, you guys,  not a single [living] soul, human, animal, or otherwise was any where near the freaking empty bottle of Gatorade.

        The bottle went straight up in the air about two inches, and landed with a whack (which is when I thought it was knocked over) and spun around, still upright, on the table before it stopped moving.  We all saw this.

        Weird, inexplicable things happen sometimes.  My advice is, hope for a friendly ghost, and always bring an emergency sandwich.

"Hey, fuggeddabout it!"

        Well this is awkward.  I haven't posted anything for over two weeks.  First, let me get you up to speed.

I'm not sure which is the more awkward feature in this picture: my neck or the Honey Buckets.

        I definitely almost died [again] on my way to work on Monday.  This was after we had to deplane just seconds prior to take off, and they actually told us this, "Well, there's a light on in the cockpit, and we have tried to reboot the system three times, but it's still on.  So, unfortunately we're going to have to ask everyone to deplane."  What the-.  Okay, don't tell me that!  Just make some shit up.  At least say the light just came on, not that you've been ignoring it for the last 15 minutes before we, you know, FLY.  Ding dongs.

        Also there was turbulence- which I hate.  I panicked, of course, and started sweating, so I had to turn the little air vent on full blast.  The lady next to me was giving me the evil eye, and I wanted to say, "It's this, or I puke all over your business casual. PS - nylons are so 1996 right now."  Same thing on the way home with the turbulence.  Son of a brick!  The worst part is they didn't have beverage service because of it, so I thought I was going to die totally sober.  

I should probably just wear a helmet at all times

        Now for the real reason I haven't been blogging: Tony Soprano.  Eric and my new obsession is "The Sopranos," and naturally I have started talking like I am in the organized crime business rather than the health care business.  Luckily, I haven't started carrying a gun.  I am far too spazzy to have any kind of concealed weapon.  I would accidentally clip people all the time just because I am a freak.  I have, however, developed a North Jersey accent, started cursing in Italian, eating exorbitant amounts of pasta, and drinking out of wine glasses with gold frosted rims.

         I am not lying when I tell you, I actually said, "Fuggeddabout it," to a patient today.  So yeah, this blogger has been MIA, but let me assure you, I have been narrowly escaping death and saying inappropriate things a minimum of 7 times per day.   Business as usual.

How you doin'?