What I Did On My Summer Vacation It's Summertime in Houston! Well, first of all, let's talk about the weather. It sucks. Seriously. At the end of May/early June, we had a series of what are now called (presumably in a spirit of inclusion) Derechos. I can't recall if they are given names, but they will cut down trees, wear high heels... sorry about that. (A moose once bit my sister.) A 'Derecho', so far as I can figure, is characterized by torrential rain and sustained heavy linear winds. Lost power long enough to have to bin all of the contents of my fridge, plus the rain caused the sewers to back up. Plus we lost hot water (big complex!) and chill water (the thing that makes the complex's air conditioning go). This was not happy-making. I put in a claim with FEMA, and they came through. (BTW, both hot and chill water are rather hit-or-miss in this complex, which is very nearly as old as I am, and preventative maintenance stopped long before my last dental appointment. Smiles) About six weeks later, we were visited by Beryl. Power down for over a week. Beryl was either a hurricane or a tropical storm when she hit town. (Like the storm supra but with cyclonic winds.) Major shit. I had a bunch of laundry in at the laundromat when the power went out. 'Well, why didn't you just move it into the dryer' I had more than one person ask. 'Or just wring it out and put on the line to dry?' (In the rain? Some people are just a waste of oxygen, to tell you the truth.) Binned the fridge contents (again), got a new mattress, new sheets and pillows, and replaced a dozen sets of work clothes. Put in another FEMA claim. Waiting. We're into the brief drought season here, before the hurricane season hits its full stride. The dewpoint is on the order of 75 degrees F, and the temp is running in the high 90s during the day. Nights are better, it will cool off to mid 80s. Still not happy-making. On the other hand, it's great to see people working together to pull through this shit. Everyone with a grill was frantically grilling and offering up plates to all comers. Some are obviously Cajuns. I, personally, was surprised to see some of the stuff cooked on a bbq. On the gripping hand, I now have randos coming up to see if I have 'Seasonings' or 'Dipping Sauce'. This place is a bare step up from an Elf-infested trailer park, but sorry, I don't keep Ranch Dressing. Ketchup? Soy? Oyster sauce? Hoisin? Nah! Dippin' sauce! GF's son got out of jail Thursday 8 August. Sad story – he went off his meds in February, got locked up without his meds and no medical or psych evaluation, got abused in gen pop. Trial reset in April, because the PDFender fucked up. Then weather happened (supra). Bounced around from Harris County lockup to Louisiana to Mississippi to Harris County to Mississippi again. He probably qualifies for frequent flyer miles. Charges dismissed. No hard feelings, right? Now, to get his meds straightened out... His mom (my GF) starts to move his stuff into storage, which I consider a good thing, as it has been occupying ~10 cubic yards of my bedroom, as well as all of my closet space. Then she starts packing up the TV, which I bought her just a couple of weeks ago as a belated birthday present. And then her clothes. And accusing me of having social diseases. Ha! As if I have a social life. Rear view mirror time. What's that line of WireCutter's? Oh, yeah. 'Psycho Chicks. We've all had 'em'. This has allowed me the opportunity to move my bed from an East-West orientation to a North-South. It seems to help, or maybe it's these lab-grade Placebo tablets I've been taking. Dunno. (Is joke. Is actually lab-grade RUSSIAN 'spasebo' tablets, thank you very much). Work's been slow- to - reverse gear. I've had to switch my cell provider, and am still in the process of switching my new account to my old phone number. And my old hardware. OKAY! I admit it! I'm going for a Lifeline cellphone, 'cause it's, like, free, and I's poor. And also, getting rich in years. (APPROACHING MIDDLE AGE. Perhaps if I adopt a retrograde orbit...). Health continues in its normal fashion as expected having 1.5 lungs and 1.5 foots (seriously, I mean I'm missing half a lung from TB, and half of a foot from being run over by a bus, but one and a half feet rather raises the question of 'feet of what?') Transport continues to be bicycle, bus, and occasionally Mayor Brown's Lionel set. I'm trying really hard to maintain an attitude of gratitude, but it ain't easy. I discovered that it wasn't actually auditory hallucinations, just that the (now ex) GF would keep the radio on 24/7, 'but low, so it won't bother you'. Goddam Clearasil commercial radio, eight songs on the cart, plus ads and PSAs makes an hour broadcast. Lather, rinse, repeat. The drums, the drums... I'm not going mad, Mad I say, No not at all. Not at all My unit is on the perimeter of the complex, so I am gifted with cars idling with efficient subwoofers and lousy fit-and-finish on the body panels. A hallmark, I am told, of the 'Houston Sound' is a constant ululation near the 40 Hz range. It is not pleasant. It induces migraine headaches and feelings of paranoia. I'm also just by the only pedestrian gate serving some 200 units. You may or may not know that waves come in sets of seven -anybody surf?- but the gate does likewise, slamming in sets of seven I'd been depending on my cell phone mobile hotspot, which is now a thing of the past. But I have hopes that I can find a provider that doesn't wish to ass-rape me for my desired bandwidth and demand. Pray for me, Brothers and Sisters! And while you've got that channel open...USE IT!