Up! With People

Elevators. Who doesn't have an elevator story of some type - freaky (in either the scary, or sexual sense...both?). I recall a particular elevator at a timeshire in Hawaii ...that damn elevator was the cause of a major spat with an ex. Rings were thrown across the room, heated exchanges - the future of the relationship seriously challenged. It all started in the lobby when the doors opened to this tiny box of a people pusher. The innards were covered in a maniacal 70's carpet job of crayola red, magenta, black and burnt orange - floor to ceiling. The ex took one look and not a step closer. Wide eyed and in full anxiety mode...a "Uh uh, I'm not going in there" was muttered. I started to laugh (bad....bad move...)I stayed in the elevator (bad move number 2). We met at the room with doors slamming - - I was praised for my total lack of compassion. -Hey, I'd seen my share of stairwells...(stories there too...another argument in the stairwell of the Paris Hotel in Vegas...we broke up a few months later..)- I digress. It wasn't like the timeshare was a hole - - everything else seemed well equipped and on par with the times. How could they miss one major detail like an elevator - where most guests are bound to venture several times during their stay. Why not skip the fancy details of the laundry room. Who does laundry on vacation??? Again, I digress. Elevators. Today the power went out at work....it went on, and off, on...and off again. A co-worker who I refer to as the "Push Pin Nazi" (another blog) had the misfortune of being inside the elevator during power outage numero uno. The PPN told and re-told the experience: "I had my gym bag (good to have in an elevator) and my knitting supplies" Wasn't it dark in there? After some giggling and eye adjustment to the lack of light...I think I might have said "SWEEEEET - nap time" Who knows? Maybe I would've lost my shit.

Early Morning Cast of Characters

Fine. I admit it. I am an insomniac. Not all the time (denial...). There are periods of time when the "witching hour" beckons me. My alarm clock reads 3:23 a.m. I'm on one of those stretches right now - - they usually last for about 3 weeks. 3:23 a.m. every morning. Eventually I just open my eyes and before glancing over at the numbers I mumble "Fuck, here we go..." Actually, it has been a while since a case of the "323's". They usually emerge during times of stress and the fact that my house is deconstructed and mostly packed up could have triggered this latest episode. My cat has been trying to climb the walls - - chasing some imaginary creature - this alternates between exchanges with herself in the gynormous mirror that is propped up against the wall. The morning paper being thumped against the front door about sent me 3 feet into the air and out of my chair. Rattled much? I think I need some more coffee....don't you? It's almost time to get ready for work anyway - early day - Wednesdays are Homeless Outreach days and they begin early with some (more coffee) followed by hiking and playing in the dirt. Aztec Camera is on xm doing a cover of Van Halen's 'Jump'...and I'm off.

-a