*bleeds*

This morning I woke up about 6:00 to the sound of the wind outside. Rather lovely. Hooting around the windows and the eaves and whatnot, making this lonely sort of wailing noise. Kept going back to sleep and waking up again (and eventually sleeping past my alarm which didn't go off, but it's a weekend so it's not terribly important when I get up as long as it's not, like, two in the afternoon), and the sound of the wind was there the whole time. Still windy. Again, lonely, but nice.

Well, nice except that windy = dry, and dry = bad weather condition for Jenny.

You see, about five minutes ago I blew my nose (yep, still sick, although I think I'm beating it -- maybe my immune system's finally come back after years of being in the toilet!), then blinked at my fingers, which were spotted red. Then looked at the tissue and blinked more, because that was spotted red too. Then I realized... oh, yeah. Nosebleed. Dang.

On the plus side, though, whenever I have a nosebleed I get to fill the bathroom sink with a few inches of water and then lean over and watch the blood drip in. It makes the most beautiful patterns as it spreads out and mixes with the water.

linky linky

http://micro.magnet.fsu.edu/primer/java/scienceopticsu/powersof10/

<keanu>Whoa.</keanu>

Hmm.

That was one of the more interesting showers I've ever taken... although it wasn't the shower that was interesting so much as what went before it.

I rounded up my towels and stuff and went into the bathroom, tossed my dirty clothes on the floor, hopped into the shower stall, picked up the shower sprayer dealie...

There was a ladybug on it.

I am a total wimp when it comes to ladybugs. I mean, yes, they're bugs, and usually I'm all 'eww, icky icky!' when it comes to bugs... but ladybugs is different. I didn't want the poor thing to drown, or to be stuck in the bathroom for the very short rest of its life, so I somehow managed to get it to crawl off the sprayer onto my washcloth, set down the washcloth and keep the ladybug ON the washcloth long enough to get back into my clothes (shirt inside-out and backwards, which amused me), pick the washcloth up again, carry the thing out to the front door, open the front door, and blow the ladybug out into the environment where it belonged.

When I opened the door, I couldn't help but notice the cop car parked directly outside the house.

Directly, in fact, underneath my bedroom window.

If it had been there for more than about ten minutes, then it had been maybe seven feet from where I sat at my computer. If it's still there now, the same thing applies.

Have I mentioned that cops freak me out? I don't trust cops. I'm for the most part law-abiding (okay, so I've downloaded mp3s, but if they wanna arrest everyone who's done that then they're gonna need to build a few thousand more prisons), I don't intend to get on the wrong side of any laws any time soon, but... I don't trust cops. At all. Maybe because my dad was a cop for a bit, and worked in the police business since before I can remember. Cops scare me.

I pretended not to notice the cop car that was parked maybe ten, fifteen feet away from the front door where I stood; I just blew the ladybug off my hand, shut the door, and went back to my shower.

Cops and ladybugs. Geez.