The broken mirror.

2007-06-06 12:05 a.m.

It's midnight and I'm browsing around on Flickr looking for interesting photos of funny cats for a group I'm in. (Yes, my life really is that exciting). Suddenly there was this *BOOM*! It sounded like an explosion. The windows in my house shook. A car screeched past my house and spun out as it tried to take the corner at a high speed. I ran over and looked out the window. My car's reassuring alarm light was gently blinking and I exhaled. Whatever the bastard hit, it wasn't my car. I could see something small laying in the middle of the street. Then I saw people slowing emerging into the street. My neighbor James saw me in the window and waved to me. As I am the self proclaimed Ninja Night Watch I grabbed my keys, threw on my spa jacket and went outside to meet my neighbors. We're all in our thirties and I'm amazed how my neighbors are still dressed, while I'm in thrashed yoga pants, my Peeking Duck t-shirt and barefoot. It becomes obvious we've all seen too many episodes of CSI. We start analyzing tire marks, examining broken branches and measuring oil stains. The thing I've seen in the street turns out to be the side mirror of the car that went crashing down the street. He hit something hard but we have a hard time figuring out what. One guy is crouched down on the ground walking like a duck as he identifies the debris. I walk behind him, careful of my bare feet. "This is the side mirror. He're the moulding that goes down the side of the driver's door. This is the plastic from his parking lights. This is from a headlight. A nut, this must have come from the bottom of the car," he says pointing out each piece. I walk further up to where another guy is inspecting the side of an old Ford truck. The truck is so big and old it's difficult to tell if the extensive damage on it is new or old. Across the street is a storage pod. I take the tiny LED light from my keychain and inspect the side for damage. The hollow sound from the explosion made me think he hit this first then rebounded off the truck before disappearing into the night. We stand in the middle of the street in a close circle discussing our theories. We talk about where we live, what we saw and what we heard. When we run out of conjecture, we all start to wander away back to our homes. "Good night!" "Good night." "Good night." We sing to each other. These are people who I probably walk past on the street, see in their cars and have only spoken to through a brief nod of the head. It takes a drunk driver destroying property for us to connect. It makes me almost glad it happened. However, if he had hit my car I probably would feel different.

Phases

2007-06-05 12:51 a.m.

Phases I've Gone Through that I Can Not Rationally Explain:

1) The whole black bracelet, petticoats and lace top thing.
2) Sweatshirts with the neck cut out.
3) The whole Celtic music thing.
4) The entire summer I word that black hat across my back and never on my head.
5) The two years I was called Raven Mayfaire (don't ask).
6) Bartles and James wine coolers.
7) My obsession with classical requiems.
8) Stirrup pants.
9) Vampires (Oh wait, I'm still in the midst of this one).
10) Naming my car after people I thought were really cool. Hence Dorthea the Toyota Carolla.
11) That custom made tuxedo jacket I found in a thrift store and wore to work every day for a year.
12) Bolo ties.
13) Gay films set in 19th century Britain (there's more than you probably think).
14) Headkerchiefs or hanky heads. Luckily my luscious locks prohibited me from wearing them too often but I dated too many hanky heads.
15) Band shirts with grandpa's plaid Pendleton shirt tied around my waist.
16) The four years I sang Italian arias in solo contests.
17) Running around the woods in the middle of the night in low cut blouses.
18) My obsession with black patten leather shoes.

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