Random Thoughts

Random Thought 1: I hate bad renters.

I think I have mentioned how much I love our little house here in Boise. I mean, it even has a white picket fence. How All-American of us.

Our House; Their House (I'll let you guess which is which.)

What I don't love is our oddball renter neighbors. Their house is a small box, probably a former miner's home built in the early 1900s. It has the potential to be a charming little box, but it is owned by some old crotchety man and his even older brother. They rent it out dirt cheap and seem to think that maintenance is some kind of new-fangled idea that doesn't apply to old, historic homes. The roof is in serious disrepair, and we know from the former renter that the walls literally crumbled from rot when she tried to repair some tiles in the shower. She (the quiet, well-intentioned renter) moved out as soon as she could get out of her $500-a-month lease.

Now it's rented to God knows how many 20-somethings (though I think maybe they aren't even 20). They parked a school bus, which probably has more square footage than the actual house, in the backyard. And they loaded the house with all sorts of instruments, including an organ and an old upright piano (the latter of which I am seriously coveting, even though it is ridiculously out of tune). I would call the gang of kids grunge, but I don't think that's the right term. I actually think Circus Carney is more appropriate, especially as the music we hear most often coming from the house and bus sounds an awful lot like a cross between Big Top music and the horrid music played by the ice cream truck. Wonderful.

And last night, I looked out my bedroom window (as I adjusted the fan for maximum coolness as well as maximum noise-deadening) to see two lanky, white, scrawny guys dressed in bras and undies, one with a black fishnet dress, the other with high heels. I'm really not sure what this was about. Some kind of theme party perhaps? Maybe it's their band costumes? Maybe they were heading out to The Rocky Horror Picture Show? Or maybe it's just the norm over there. I don't know.

At least it's never boring.

*******

Random Thought 2: There's something I hate more than my neighbors.

So, confession time: My skin hates me. I actually sometimes think I am allergic to myself. My scalp has this condition called sebborheic dermatitis, which can result in scaly, dandruff-like ickiness, especially if I am not totally diligent about washing it every day (as can happen after 6 days on a river trip). I have a tendency to get cold sores if I spend too much time in the sun (as can happen after 6 days on a river trip). I get rashes under my arms, along my belly button, beneath my bra line whenever I get too hot and sweaty or dirty (as can happen after 6 days on a river trip). Oh, did I mention I just got back from a fantastic 6-day river trip on the Middle Fork of the Salmon? Well, I did. And it was a great trip with a wonderful group of people. But now we are home, and I am paying the price.

River Self-Portrait

Friday night, I realized there was still this one little patch of scaliness on my scalp, in a place where it often gets scaly. I thought it was because it was right where my visor sat all week, so it was persistent and wouldn't go away. But by Saturday morning, it was actually tender and sore. I tried to scrub it with shampoo, but I hate inflicting pain on myself, so I stopped. Then it occurred to me that I better get Mr. J to take a look, just in case it wasn't a scale. He picked at it and pulled it out, as I often do with the icky scaliness. Then he stepped away and told me calmly that it was a tick.

I immediately proceeded to completely and utterly freak out (in the shower, mind you). So very grown-up of me.

All I can say is, thank God this happened Saturday a.m., as an hour later, I was dropping off Mr. J at the airport for a 10-day trip to the Netherlands. And there is no way in Hades that I would have ever been able to remove that stupid thing on my own. I would have ended up in a puddle of tears, naked and wet in the shower, too freaked out to do a damned thing.