*sings* Raindrops keep falling on my bed...

Unlike most stories that involve a wet spot on one's bed, this one isn't about personal shame and embarrassment - which makes it a unique entry for this blog as well!

That wet spot appeared a few weeks ago, prompting me to completely flip out. It is not supposed to rain indoors! My feeble mind couldn't process it! What followed was chaos, as I dragged everyone around me into a panic as well.

My poor upstairs neighbor was dragged home from a social outing because the obvious guess was something in his apartment was leaking. He couldn't find anything, and suggested it was condensation in my AC vent. Ok, so all I had to do was turn off the AC for a while and wait for the handyman to arrive and fix it. Not hard, until I realized I now live in the south, which spends half the year actively on fire.

But I did it. I survived until the repair crew arrived. In my bedroom. At 9am. On my day off. With me still asleep. Since I hadn't answered the door, the building's maintenance man assumed I wasn't in and used his key. Awkward situation for everyone! Still, the fixing was happening. Yay! Life was perfect again!

So, yeah, it started leaking again. Harder than before. (Good thing I hadn't moved my bed back into position yet.) This time the maintenance guy cut a hole in my ceiling to get a look at the cause. It was definitely not my AC that was the culprit, so cool air resumed! The water was coming from up above. Once again my upstairs neighbor got questioned. Once again, no leak was found. I was left with a hole in my ceiling and a ladder in my bedroom, so I could get up in there the next time a leak started and see what was going down. That... that was kinda cool. I kinda looked forward to the next leak.

Last night, the water began to flow again. Once again, pans had to be laid out to collect water. At his point, my one pan had grown to three needed to catch all the drips. As it was the middle of the night, I wasn't about to call anyone. I slept on my couch - again - knowing I was gonna have to ruin someone's Mothers Day in the morning.

Woke up late. Checked the room. Didn't look like any new water. Took a shower. Emerged to a DELUGE! Water was coming down fast and furious. Three pans could only handle the main leak. New dripping spots were forming elsewhere on the ceiling, so this became a full-on five-pan leak!

I sent a tentative text to the maintenance guy. He was out of town, as expected. Texted my upstairs neighbor again, asking if anything new was going on. He was baffled that this was still going on, again asking if it was my AC. I told him the hole in the ceiling proved that wasn't the cause, and that promptly brought him down for a look. I think he was impressed by the calamity!

Seeing how the water was dripping down from high up, he returned to his apartment to make one more check for a cause. This time... guess what? He spotted a cold water pipe that was leaking like crazy. WE FOUND THE CAUSE! He shut off the water. The dripping stopped. Plans for repair are now underway. Life is good. All things now return to normal.

Well, not all things...

Family gets in the way of everything

So I'm back in DC again, on short notice and for a short visit, and I am once again shocked at how much time family eats up! I had sketches to do, dammit!

OK so it was good fun and nice bonding. STILL! I was counting on some down time to catch up. If I owe you an email or some sketches, I apologize. Email will have to wait until tomorrow, and the best I could sketch in the small window I had is seen above. (I will do better tomorrow.)

Today has been full of dark omens and miscues. For one, I have been trying to get in contact with my admissions counselor at SCAD. She called me and the message on the machine was simply "call me back." WHAT DOES THAT MEAN!? Freaking out, I call her back. Get her voice mail. I leave a message and try again a few hours later. Voice mail. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. I cannot reach this woman who is tormenting me with her elusiveness. AM I IN OR NOT!? Argh, gotta get on the road.

When I tried to shut down my computer so I could get on the road, Microsoft decided that would be the time to do 15 farking updates! While it did its thing, I went to talk to my mother (who was there recovering from a major medical miscue that ruined HER day) to kill time. After a while, I went back to find my computer powered off. Ok, so it's done! I pack up and drive to DC, encountering MAJOR ROADWORK - followed by MORE MAJOR ROADWORK with a chaser of MAJOR ROADWORK! One lane roads 4evah!

I get to my grandparents place and the first thing I see is a pot of dead basil. It seems my bro was trying to care for his girlfriend's plants while she was out of the country. He failed. So dead plants. What a welcome!

I get inside and no one seems to be around. This is a house of elders, so I assumed they were taking naps. I head upstairs to see my grandmother and aunt are no where to be seen. I decide to check on my Alzheimer's grandfather only to walk in on him getting a sponge bath from his nurse. Awesome. You know what, I'm going to skip the introduction and go set up my computer.

Power on. Booting up. KABLAMMO! There is gibberish on my screen instead of the welcome screen. AWW FUDGE! I power it down and start it again. "Windows did not start properly, would you like to run the diagnostic?" Sure. By this time, my grandmother and aunt are back from the store, so I go up and visit for a bit with them. I come back down a few minutes later to see a new error message telling me I am completely screwed and the only solution is to do a system restore. I say no. It again says the error cannot be fixed by Microsoft and my computer is ruined forever. GODDAMMITSOMUCH! Those updates blew up my computer!

So I do what any rational person would do. I refuse to listen to Microsoft and try to reboot again. The screen goes black. I wait. It flickers. I wait. It flickers some more. I get worried.

"Now configuring updates 1 of 3"

*facepalm* So either I mistakenly unplugged and packed up my computer before it was done updating, or Microsoft decided to fail miserably and pile on. At least my computer works now, NO THANKS TO THE DAMN UPDATES!

Relieved my computer actually works, I go back upstairs to listen to my aunt talk about her magical trip to Australia. (Jealousy!) Grandma calls down that a friend of the family is coming over. Yay! Then she comes down to announce another friend of the family is coming. Double yay! Also, overwhelming! We socialize for a while. Bro comes home and replaces one of the friends who had to leave. We party well into the evening before breaking up.

Now I have only two hours and change to get everything done by midnight. Bro then extends the invitation to watch Battlestar Galactica with him. Oh hell, I am not turning that down! I love BSG, and bro bonding is nice. (Here is where I learn that my arrival was very inconvenient for him as he's hosting an all-weekend geekfest in my room. Whoops.) I try to sketch during BSG, but nothing I get is great. It's time for his bed, I break away, and here I am.

I am exhausted!

Swing away Merrill. Merrill... swing away.

The theory here is that the hardest hitters in baseball also tend to have the most strike outs, as seen in the movie Signs. I may be completely uninspired and stressed out right now, but I'll keep swinging away. You'll just have to use selective memory to cherish my home runs and ignore my strikeouts.

This is one of my teeny 9"x12" paintings, which are used as style exercises. I painted it during an embarrassing Capitals playoff game. Going into the playoffs, all the sportswriters said the pressure was on the Caps' goalie. This was the day the goalie could rise up and show he wasn't the weak link! He could be a hero! Yeah, he turned non-corporeal and let through every decent shot that came at him. He was a miserable failure and proved all the naysayers right. It's THAT inspiring story that unfolded while I painted. Man, nothing is going my way.

After watching that epic failure, I immediately turned to the Orioles game - and watched an inning where they gave up seven unearned runs, including allowing a grand slam. The massively incompetent pitching let the Rangers bat around twice and score a dozen runs. (They also let a Ranger hit for the cycle.) After all that sucking, the Orioles finally got to bat and - one guy hit a home run!

Of course, in that analogy, the result is morale-destroying failure and loss in spite of minor success. WELCOME TO MY WEEK!