As per usual with Okie-land's weather patterns, fall lasted approximately twenty minutes. The high temperature went from eighty-five degrees one day to fifty degrees the next. Our nightly low temperature was thirty-five degrees.

I mention this because I couldn't get the pilot light on my apartment heater to work.

Faced with the prospect of a bitterly cold night with no heat, I responded much in the way I always imagined the pioneers of yore dealt with the cold evenings on the prairie.

I pulled out my flannel p.j.'s and thick blanket from Target.

My parakeet, having always lacked the sense of adventure and humor needed to be poor, glared at me the entire evening with a look that said, "You know, if you made a half-assed decent salary, we wouldn't have to live like this."

So, you can imagine how pissed he was when the shower head blew off and flooded my bathroom the next morning.

I really thought my shower head blowing off was horrific (horrific enough for it's own entry), but groovebunny's entry on dealing with her dog's butt explosions made my little story seem like petty whining.

And sock-girlie is looking for a boyfriend. Her criteria: geeky with a slightly skewed sense of humor. My criteria: he must have a brother for me. Yes, I'll move.

And the weight-loss is now up to 39.6 pounds. Clothes shopping has become entirely too much fun and, even with the thrift stores, I'm laying burn marks on my credit card. Geez, will I never learn?