Katie Doyle, Girl About Town

Wednesday, Oct. 20, 2004 - 11:16 p.m.

I am thinking of starting a list of patently stupid sayings. Like, "every day above ground is a good one," which is only true if you are so mindnumbingly afraid of death that you will go to any length to avoid it because that way lies a terrible, soul-sucking void bent on having your soul for lunch on a mealbreak that lasts an eternity. And even then, I have my doubts.

My car got broken into on Friday night. My social security number, every single business card I had (3 boxes full), cell bill, and bank statements which I had forgotten to take inside repeatedly were stolen, as well as my frigging ashtray and the $7 which had been happily residing in it. I can see taking the damn money, but I'm pretty fucking pissed off about the ashtray. It had notes, phone numbers, and needed keys inside it. Fuckers.

The business cards had my home address and phone number on them, so you know I'm also real thrilled about that. I am, in point of fact, totally, completely, 100% fucking Freaked Out about it and periodically having total meltdowns over the fact that some asshole who already broke into my car on a public street now has my home address (in a desirable neighborhood in the hills), my phone number, and since my cards say I make and sell jewelry, probably some ridiculous idea there are things of extreme value (to anyone other than me and TB) in this house. If this dick or dicks wasn't shy about smashing my window on a public street right in front of a house, he's certainly not going to be shy about breaking a window to get into a house on the top of a hill, way the hell up from the street, fully hidden from view. Let this be a lesson to the rest of you folks. See? This is how nice a person I am - I am willing to live life's hard lessons so that you folks don't have to. So do not squander this hard-earned knowledge, please. Take your bank statements and pay stubs out of your car when you get home. And don't leave your business cards in there, either. Maybe you should also consider taking your ashtrays in, too, since apparently ashtrays are the new stereos. ::sigh::

I'm really rather irritated, frankly. This totally shot down my carefully constructed theory that leaving your car's floorboards full of trash - wrappers and bottles and empty soda cans - would deter any would-be thieves from breaking in, on the premise that a) there was clearly nothing worth stealing in the vehicle, and b) in order to actually utilize the car in any way, the thief or thieves would have to clean it out first, and since we all know thieves are lazy piece-o-shit assholes, they would not want to do so and thus would skip on to the neatly well-maintained car ahead of it. Damn it, we can not have nice things.

So now I have a smashed window, which I have plastic-bagged and duct-taped over, because apparently, I'm ghetto like that. It's a good thing too, because the drought here in perpetually sunny CA decided to take a little vacation and dump 3 days worth of rain on my leaky handiwork. And not just the lame drizzle that usually passes for "rain" here in LA, either; actual cloudsplitting, drench your ass in 10 seconds, almost-Texas-style rain, which we haven't had in the Valley in probably 10 years. Stupid El Nino.

The thieves also took a pair of prescription sunglasses in Wayfarer II frames, which will teach me to throw my hat to the mad, Risky Business winds of fashion. Said sunglasses are useful to absolutely no one but me, as I am blind as a friggin' bat, but I had a laugh on the stupid thieves: the left temple came unglued from the metal hinge during the glasses' sojourn in my glove box, and so are utterly useless even for regular lenses. Take that, you scumbag losers. Of course, they also took the Aviator sunglasses which were in there, too.

Now, lest you think I watch waaaaaay too many Tom Cruise movies, let me just say that in my defense, both pairs of sunglasses date back to the late 80's or very early (as in 1) 90's. And, okay, fine: I used to have a tiny little fascination-type thingie over Tom Cruise. But rest assured, that has long since been laid to rest, what with all the aliens-have-infested-my-body Scientology crap, the outta control ego, overexposure, and the same nihilistic character he plays in every single movie he's done since Risky Business. I mean, people: that stuff gets old. And TB is much better looking and a far better actor anyway, so I'm good with what I got. :)

Bygones.

Peace out,
Katie

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