Prom Again

Today I went prom dress shopping with two girlfriends, R and H.

I found a gold, lace spaghetti strap mini dress at the second-hand clothes market.

For $5.

There were lots of other dresses to choose from as well. The green lace, the hot pink satin, the white ruffles. Some were size 22. Some were size 2. But, the gold lace dress fit perfectly.

I'll be wearing it to our '80s prom this coming Saturday along with my gold 3-inch heels and a strand of pearls.

Simba, the Kitten

We've had a rat roaming around in our ceiling for a couple weeks now. Obviously, the rat we killed a while ago had family who decided to continue sharing our home.

I've been oscillating between going the poison route or the cat route. Poison route means its a one time deal- no long- term care of a cat, but it isn't a long term solution if rats keep moving in. The cat route means no dead rat smell in the ceiling and a furry friend to come home to that keeps those pesky rodents away.

I was leaning toward the poison option mostly because I've been hesitant to up my level of domestic responsibility. I was quite comfortable with level 1- house plants (which we don't have yet.....and the gardner takes care of the yard....). Getting a cat is the next rung on the ladder towards level 3- dog, level 4- significant other then kids at level 5.

After expressing my hesitancy over a lunch of rice and beans at the office cantine, my fine co-workers pushed me to take the leap to more responsibility. And so, this afternoon I went to a colleag

ues house and came home with a kitten. In keeping with the fine (recently established) tradition in my family of naming pets after beer brands, we now have Simba (a Congolese brew) which also means lion in Swahili. A fitting name for a cat, if I do say so myself.

What's a girl to do? Part 2

April 17

Text from stalker man:

"Honey...I'm sorry, just understand my emotion and see how you can manage me. Don't play with my feelings 'your grace is sufficient for me'. You occupy my thoughts, please do something before I fall sick, even Hello! When I look at you, I feel good and I remember when I was in the United States."

He was in the US? Okay, so maybe he doesn't need me for a visa. Still, I find the text to be creepy. I asked Coach B if he'd given out my number, and he said he didn't. But, he did know who the guy was and said he was a good tennis player and had played in tournaments in Europe. Interesting, but still creepy.

This time I actually tried to text him back, but as fate or chance would have it, the text wouldn't go through. I took that as a sign.

April 21

"Charity, good afternoon, I know that you are well! In fact, I don't know what to say....but, I count on you because I love you. Be happy."

Again I tried to text back, this time to say, please stop texting, since my avoidance maneuver was obviously not working. The text wouldn't go through again. My dear friends suggest I inform our security officer about these texts. I didn't feel threatened enough, yet.

April 22

"Hello, sweet heart, 'My husband doesn't like that...' (What I said to him when joined me on my walk home after tennis one day pre-texting drama). Give me the chance to be this man. 'Be my guest'. Kiss.

Getting creepier....

April 23

"Honey I know that you receive my messages and I'm confident in a favorable response because you said "Hello" this morning. You know, one must live the caprice of love to know how many times one can suffer. You are beautiful and I love your style, your way of dressing is fantastic. Give me your hand. My father says silence is gold. Peace.

There was someone who said hello to me in the street that morning and I automatically responded with hello, but didn't even look at him.....ugh. This is getting to be uncomfortable.

April 27

I received two texts, but the second one was the tipping point. "My love, I am in bed alone and I know that you are also alone in a pretty bed at the same time (it was 6:30 pm, and I most certainly was not in my bed, not even near it!). I am thinking of you...one day if GOD wants. Night."

Okay, enough. The next day I told the security officer at work who called the guy up and told him to never contact me again or else my agency would write a complaint letter to his agency. He seemed to accept this and I have not heard from him since.

I think he was at the tennis court this weekend when I came to play, but he left without saying anything. Hopefully, this is the end of the story!