September Gurl

I think I'll be taking a little time off in September this year. That is, if I can get the days off that I'm gunning for. Maybe a week off to relax, de-stress and decompress, and a day or two to go somewhere other than where I've been. I'm craving like mad to go back up to New York City, record shop, see worthwhile movies, eat at Sonali, but realistically I think Washington D.C. will probably be more along my budget this year. Also Al has a cottage down in Nags Head this summer and he's invited Joe and me to stay with him for a few days, and maybe even Mike, too. Either way, I need a break -- at least one break before I completely crack my gourd when the holiday season rolls in and I'll (potentially) be in a full lead position dealing with all that hassle. I really feel like I haven't stopped going in circles since the move, pretty much since January or February or... gadzooks, has it been that long? Christ, no wonder I feel like I've been beaten with a stick. It's time once again for that annual soul-purging getaway that always somehow does me a world of good. And I do love D.C. I'll be quite satisfied with that.

Time now for an update on the new house weirdness. Other than the mystery stain in my front driveway, I appear to also have a tiny space roughly 6 inches in circumference just inside my back door that I have come to refer to as my "dead zone". Or "deceptively-dead zone" is more like it. I have an invisible area right in front of my back door where insects as varied as spiders and roaches to ants and houseflies wander in like that little town in Village Of The Damned and drop down as if dead, only to come back to themselves once they are removed from the "zone". And I haven't a single rational explanation for it.

This fly certainly appears to have kicked the bucket, hasn't it? Lying on its side, little creepy fly legs folded into itself. But I knew better. For you see, I know. After this photo was taken I gently picked up the fly with a paper towel and opened the back door to toss him out into the garden, but before his little fly body even hits the ground he spreads his wings and zips straight up and off, in complete control of his senses once again. Strangest thing I would have ever seen, if I hadn't already seen it the 2 or 3 other times this has happened.

So anybody got any ideas about what's up with all that? Could the previous tenants have bombed the house for bugs, but like, only in a 6 inch area by the back door? Or are there other, more -- dare I say -- suuuupernatural elements at work here? Quite frankly I'm scared to stand in that spot. Maybe I should go in with a rope tied around my ankle and have Joe pull me back out. Or better yet, send my minions out to steal neighbor's pets out of their back yards Thomas Edison-style and perform my experiments on them instead. Hm. My next door neighbor's grandchildren are bouncing on their trampoline right now. Hey kids! Auntie Mel's got a popsicle for youuuu!