Can't Replace or Relate, Can't Release or Repair

Here is the top of a bridge railing on Glendale Street.

So, let me try harder tonight not to be such a damn downer. Here is the portion of my blog where I am all full of the goodness of my fellow person and can see a little piece of beatific light in every human being I meet...At least for another hour or two, until I go back to my cranky, distrustful self.

Remember how when we left our heroine last night, she had just escaped the clutches of the creepy tow truck driver, and was all spazzy about her disabled transport device and the unknown fate of her beloved camera? Well, let me relate to you a heartfelt, feel good story that took place right here in bucolic Iowa. I am a girl who isn't very good at fixing things and even worse at asking for help. My friend K. knows this about me and totally worked around it. She emailed me at work today to say that she would take me car battery shopping after work and her housemate J. would be happy to install it for me. Awesome, huh? But wait, it gets better. Then she called me to say that J. was worried that I wouldn't spend the money I needed to buy a decent battery, so they just went out together and bought one and were headed to my house to install it. Wha? That's the kind of shit that can almost make me cry, it's so sweet.

As a single mom, one of my biggest fantasies is to have help. You know, that kind of assistance you get when you actually have a partner in crime? This, for me, was almost better. Who doesn't want some magic elves to show up and just fix your broken shit and make your problem go away? I am the luckiest girl alive.

The camera dilemma hasn't been so easily solved. I stopped into the Dublin Underground on my 3 o'clock break to talk to the owner. He's known me since I was eighteen, so he was sure that if they had found a camera, and it was mine, he would have known it. Damn, out of luck there. I can only think of a few scenarios for its disappearance. One is that I forgot to put it in my bag at the bar and someone swiped it. Two is that it fell out of my bag in the tow truck, but nothing else was missing. Now, I'm not one much for physics on account of all the math it requires, but don't you think that if my bag tipped over, other things would have fallen out with it? Three is that when I got home, I was spazzing so hard about the battery and the money it was going to take replace and wah and wah, that I took my camera out of my bag and put it somewhere logical, like in the freezer, and didn't even remember it. If I could invent one device to save my disorganized ass on a daily basis, I would make something where I could call every item I owned by a different number on my phone and it would make it beep or ring, so I could find it wherever the hell it was hiding in my house.

I will wait a day or two to replace my camera, just in case it does show up. Remember? I'm a sucker for false hope? I can't imagine being cameraless. How else am I going to obsessively document everything I see and experience? The big drag, is losing all the photos I took last night. There were some awesome ghoulish shots of me and K. and her dog freaking out about trick-or-treaters. I got good photos of costumes. One guy was dressed up like Ariel. (the Little Mermaid) He was a totally hot Asian guy, so the red wig looked especially nice - that and his big clompy, white tennis shoes under his fins. I even got a perfect picture of the condom dispenser in the men's bathroom at the Dublin. Oh, the humanity!

Hey, you know. One of these days here, I might even write about the fun things that happened on Halloween.