Thursday, March 31, 2005

To the person who found my site by using the search term, "ass boil treatment," you have my deepest sympathies.

Friday, March 25, 2005

Still shaking.

Around 11:30 PM, I walked out the door to take out my trash when a man across the street made a bee line for me when he heard the noise. He asked me if it was trash, and I said something like "no thanks." I was standing on my stoop and backed into the doorway since I'd locked the inner door behind me. This made me trapped between the man and a very cranky, stiff locked door.

He was still approaching, and I knew that it would take longer for me to open the cranky door than for him to reach me, so I didn't want to turn my back. He saw my fear, and said that my neighborhood was crazy with how paranoid we were, and that he just wanted to take my trash out for a few dollars. He was a big man, twice my size, probably stood a strong 6'2 and was very solid. He kept approaching me, trying to engage me, and that's when I took out my mace.

He stopped advancing.

I'm 5'4, petite, no match for that man, but all of a sudden I had somewhat of an equalizer. At least one that said I was aware that bad things can happen to me and that I was not going to be lulled into a false sense of security.

He told me I didn't have to get out my mace, and I said that I was maced right where he was standing by people who pretended to be nice, and that I didn't trust anyone.

I wouldn't have engaged him at all had the damn lock been reliable to just open and had I had my keys in hand. The only thing I could do was work a little psychological voodoo on him while I fumbled in my pocket and felt for the right key with my free hand.

He said a few more things, that his name was Craig, and that he was hard up. I said, "I'm sorry, but I'm really freaking out right now." I looked over my shoulder and waved to someone inside, and very obviously relaxed. I then moved toward the door. I said, "My neighbor."

There was no neighbor. I was waving to thin air. But he couldn't see that because he was standing at an angle. He stayed where he was, warded off my mace and the possibility of there now being more than me to deal with. By then, I'd located my keys. I backed away and put the key into the door, and went inside. I left my garbage bags there.

There is no question in my mind that he intended to harm me. He was disarming, charming even, but you don't walk around at 11:30 at night hoping to find a girl taking out her trash so you can make a few bucks by doing it for her. He was walking around, trolling for victims. He saw in me a perfect one.

Until I took out that mace.

He wasn't dressed like a bum. He was dressed to be disarming. I wasn't really freaking out, I just said I was so I'd seem like a harder target. When I got to safety is when I started the shaking and freaking.

For those who don't know, aside from us apartment dwellers, most of my neighborhood is well off. The rowhome on the corner just sold for over 600K. Not Beverly Hills or Upper East Side prices, but not cheap either. A lot of them are lavishly decorated, showing even more wealth to those who pass by. This neighborhood is surrounded however, by the ghetto. And when I say ghetto, I mean, crack infested boarded up, broken down ghettopocalypse. The 'hood is a step up from these ghettos. Because of that, the people here are frequently a target of crime. Especially, since we also are home to MICA. College students make very attractive targets since they obviously have money and don't want to "offend" anyone by being rude.

Tonight, I didn't care about offending this guy. I cared about not being mugged, raped, beaten up, or murdered. And because I didn't care about offending him, I wasn't. Perhaps his intentions were genuine, but I sure wouldn't want to find out the hard way that they weren't.

I went upstairs and knocked on my neighbors' doors and asked if they wouldn't mind walking me to the trash cans with their BIG FUCKING dogs. They were kind enough to do so, and leashed up the dogs who were all too happy to go on a walk. My neighbors were also armed with mace. As I walked with them, I realized how sweaty and hot I was. Adrenaline.

When I got back, I decided to call the police. They came a few minutes later, and I walked out to their patrol car and told them about my incident. They said that they would keep an eye out for him as they patrolled. I have no doubts that "Craig" was a predator. At least the police can hopefully prevent a crime if they see him, as criminals hate to be visible. Or, if there is a crime, I know that I did my part to try to prevent it.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Because I changed templates on this site, I'm having to go back to all my photographs and edit them. So to let you know, yes, I know it looks like shit. I'm sure there is a better solution than shrinkage, (isn't there always?) but right now what I can do is just make them smaller. I'm working the archives by date, from oldest to newest posts, so any posts that have my already too huge photographs on them blocking the text will be fixed. Some of them were already doing this on the old template, and needed fixing anyway. I wish I had the time to monitor everything on this blog, but I don't.

So, on I go, tweaking when I can.

I get my teeth cleaned tomorrow, and I'm going to talk to them about the pain that I still have in my face. Now, it feels deeper and is showing up in places like my neck, eye sockets, temple, back right side of my skull, front two teeth, and gums. Last night it got really bad. Not as bad as before, but bad. It even travels to the side of my tongue and to the roof of my mouth. All of course, on my right side where the work was done. This mostly happens when I lay down to sleep, during which I read for awhile first. I'm constantly trying to readjust the way I'm sitting so that the throbbing will stop. I take two Advil if I haven't eaten, and three if I have. There hasn't been a day since I've had this done that I haven't taken Advil.

I sent my first drafts of four concepts to the client for my current freelance job. I hope they like them. If they don't, I'll just create more. It's for a radio advertisement on an FM station that will be heard by millions of people in the Los Angeles area. So, I want them to be happy as it's a great opportunity for me as well.

My stepbrother, who is in the news business spent several days on a job with NBC as a field producer, camped on the lawn of the neighbor's house across from Martha Stewart to cover her homecoming from prison. This neighbor gave NBC an exclusive deal to set up on her property because she hates Martha Stewart. Imagine, press vans, trailers, news people, camera people, reporters, all allowed the best seat in the house by no one other than the person who lives across the street from you. Another reason to return those hedge clippers you borrowed to keep in good standing with the neighbors. You never know when you'll be coming home from prison and they let a major news organization set up on their lawn to record your every move. All the other press caravans had to set up and fight for territory while Dan and crew relaxed in the yard on lawn chairs. Of course, Martha sent out drinks and cookies to all the press EXCEPT for NBC. I didn't ask Dan whether it was purple Kool Aid or not.

I'd love to know what started off the neighbor feud. Perhaps Martha's dogs traipsed all over the woman's prize winning begonias, and it all went down hill from there.

Saturday, March 05, 2005

Tweak. Tweak. Tweak.

Still tweaking the template. It's time consuming, especially when your HTML skills are rusty. I can find my way around, but getting it the way I want it is another thing. I added the snapshot up top from when I was playing around with my digital camera last night. Yes, I know it's all clunky with the title, but it will have to do for now. It won't stay that way.

Atticus has his bones back, and celebrated by performing a spectacular flying leap from the top of a twelve foot step ladder in my bedroom onto my bed. Did I mention I was in the bed at the time as was my other cat Scout? Boys will be boys. However, it did look fun so maybe I'll try it next.

I'll do a real post soon, but must get out of my apartment. I think I'm going to change coffee venues today because I have to do some work on a freelance project and need to be anonymous. I've gotten to know the wonderful people at the Starbucks quite well. One, a film student, even gave me her script to read for my feedback. I love how they've chosen to share their lives with me. As a result, I know a lot about them. I'll be at my table writing and all of a sudden I'll see a green apron out of the corner of my eye approaching me to sit at my table and talk during their breaks. It isn't intrusive at all, since I can be there for awhile and need breaks myself from my own work. All of them are very smart. I attribute it to the location, which is in a very educated area.

The coffee shop I'm going to today is downtown and I will be completely anonymous. Well, kind of. When I worked on The Wire I was there every morning, and they knew I worked on the show. I became a familiar face to these downtown funky types. My mom, Jack, Alec, and I stopped in one day and they didn't seem to place me. I hadn't been in for a couple months and instead of fighting off morning fatigue I was with my family. I was also fully awake.

Since I'm working on "work," I want to change up the atmosphere and clear my head a little. Sink back into a corner of the place and let go. Become Anne the Copywriter, instead of Anne the writer.

Hey, it's harder than it sounds.

Especially enduring the weird looks I get when I put on the cape.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

My cat Atticus wanted me to pass this along to the person who stole his bones. He would appreciate them back now, and promises no questions will be asked.