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You fine me, you die

Upon moving to my retirement community I was issued a book of rules, which I was warned if I did not follow I would be fined. “How quaint”, I thought, “it’s like a mini city”. I found it charming how seriously these residents take their committees and even the interview they forced me to endure prior to my move I found humorous. I found two rules in particular enormously amusing. These were the ones that the community chooses to highlight numerous times throughout the 16 page tome. The emphasized rules state that no resident is allowed to back their vehicle into a parking space and no pickup truck is allowed on premise during specified hours. After many hours of discussion and contemplation I came to the conclusion these rules must have something to do with the plentiful flaura within the community. I also determined these rules would have no effect on me as I have no truck, nor to I prefer to back into my parking spots. How very wrong I was. I been fined for violating not one, but both of these rules. As I am unable to present my case in front of the fining committee, I was told put together a formal document explaining my innocence. For your reading pleasure I have included it below.

Dear Sir or Madame:

The purpose of this document is to present why I was wrongfully issued two Notices of Violation on Saturday, 1/6/07. As I will be out of town during the week of February 13th, this document should be presented to the Fining Committee in my absence. The violations will first be outlined and then refuted below.

The first violation was issued due to the accusation that a Ford Pickup truck with tag # S31-0HR, which was allegedly registered to my unit, was parked on property at 1:30 am. The second violation was issued at 7:10 am of the same day. A Ford Pickup truck with tag T06XAD was backed into a parking space, endangering the shrubbery below its monstrous exhaust pipe.

I do recognize both counts as direct infringements of policies listed in both the Vehicle and Parking sections of the Bay Colony Club Handbook. These rules state that not only are vehicles not allowed to back into spaces due to the aforementioned endangerment of flora, but in addition no pickup truck is allowed on premise between the hours of 11pm and 8 am. However, as I had no guests on the date in question, these violations are the liability of another. Upon my return home on 1/6/07 at approximately 1:00 am, I noted a red pickup truck was backed into the parking spot registered to my unit. I contemplated calling Security, but due to the late nature of the incident I opted ultimately to wait until a more reasonable hour, as I am sure Security opted to do when they did not present the violations at the time incurred. Later in the morning on Saturday, the truck had been removed. Although, the vehicle in question was illegally parked in my spot, the guest was of no relation to me. Once the records are re-checked I am sure they will reveal that no guest was registered to my unit on this evening and furthermore, if license plate numbers were properly recorded, the actual resident in violation should be revealed.

As a new resident in Bay Colony Club I have found the experience to be extremely gratifying. The landscaping is well maintained; guards are courteous and helpful, the office prompt in offering their assistance, and the residents friendly and caring. However, this incident does raise a level of concern that guest records are not correctly assembled. The notice of violation that I was issued states that the vehicle incurring the violations was registered to my unit, which was in fact never the case. Furthermore, the guilty vehicle was permitted on premise approaching the aforementioned illegal times. Had this been highlighted upon their arrival, perhaps this incident could have been avoided. I am hoping that this is in fact a rare occurrence rather than the status quo. I do appreciate the time you have taken to issue my violations and process my rebuttal.

Warmest Regards and Happy New Year,
Marissa Brady

I can’t stop

Okay, I know I recently posted about my fear of becoming a Cat Lady. Since my only readers already know me anyway, there is no hiding it, I can’t get enough of these little fuzzy critters. Here is one more I just want to share. This week we got a small group of cats named after Rock and Roll legends. Of course they were my faves. Of Ringo, Zeppelin, and Marley, Marley was my favorite. He had that Rasta vibe going on I feel. He did smell a little smoky as another volunteer pointed out. Anyway, here is this little furball. Don’t you just want to pinch his cheeks and snuggle?? Okay so he isn’t so into me taking this picture of him, but keep in mind I have this blinding flash that I cannot figure out how to tame, poor guy…

Yeah I am that girl

Today I ventured out into the world in broad daylight to enjoy what is sometimes referred to as a lunch date. This was not a lunch date of the romantic persuasion, but more of a business endeavor. However, lunch dates are not the topic at hand, but more how I manage to turn every day-to-day situation into ones of the utmost awkwardness. It all began when I met up with a fellow alumnus for a brief lunch meeting to discuss an event we are planning to host. Upon entering the sandwich/smoothie establishment we had selected, I excused myself to use the restroom. As I found my way to the back of the restaurant I should have been alarmed by the numerous boxes and cleaning supplies piled precariously around the restroom door. I should have foreseen this as a flight obstruction. However, I did neither of these things and upon my decision to exit the restroom I realized that I was stuck. Perhaps I had slammed the door with such force that it lodged the boxes into a position that barricaded the door? Or maybe a rebellious sandwich maker opted to play a nervy joke on a young lass merely looking for a midday meal?

After considering these options and reaching no conclusion I began to panic. What if no one came back to use the restroom? What was my new acquaintance whom I had met moments prior thinking being that I had been missing for several minutes? As I pushed at the door and tried to wriggle my way out of this disaster I then began to wonder to myself why these situations happen only to me. Does fate think its funny to lock me in bathrooms and try to find my way out? To lock me out of movie theaters when on a romantic date? To spill my drink in lunchrooms? To trip on rugs at job interviews? Does someone think these embarrassments and inconveniences just roll off my back? I can assure you they do not. I may laugh and attempt to play these things off as revitalizing humor, but make no mistake I am keeping score. Fortunately, I was able to escape and though I am sure my lunch date was confused, at least she was polite. But let it be known I am expecting some sort of good karma to be coming my way in the near future. And I will not rest until it is received.

When to Call it Quits

Since College I have become progressively more lame and although I am only 22 I am pretty sure I am on the express train to becoming a cat lady. Here are a few signs that I may soon call it a day and buy a few cats:

1. There are more floral designs in my apartment than an entire Laura Ashley catalogue
2. My affinity for sheep collectibles
3. The fact that there are more stuffed animals on my bed than people in my cell phone
4. I own more cardigans than tube tops
5. I now currently spend more time in my home office than the entire world combined spends indoors
6. I am starting to enjoy the Enya part of spinning because the other parts are just too loud
7. I am getting used to being alone
8. I feel that doilies would not seem out of place in my home
9. I don’t flinch as much anymore when people ask if I am a “cat” person
10. Then of course there is my adoration for precious fuzzy kitties

If you happen to ring me up and you hear any sort of meowing or hissing in the background please immediately hang up and call 911. This could potentially get serious.

Scrunchie Woman

As displayed in an earlier post I was experiencing some feelings of discontent this evening. Thus, in an attempt to better myself I proactively decided to clear my head by attending a yoga class. Apparently people do this sort of thing to feel better about themselves and find inner peace and harmony. It is here that one becomes in touch with her inner soul and maintains a balance between her own peace of mind and the karma of the world. However, while the rest of the class twisted and writhed themselves into little pretzels of Zen, all I could think about was the fact that the check in woman was wearing a scrunchie. With every backward bend and every spinal twist, all I could see was this be-scrunchied pony tail sashaying in the breeze. No one has a ponytail that actually gains this much momentum on its own. How was it swaying around with such power and force? Does the scrunchie add enough weight to cause the ponytail to have additional swing? Needless to say with the addition of tapered jeans, Nirvana was NOT achieved. After being tortured by my thoughts of disdain for scrunchie- woman I discovered that she was actually the nicest woman EVER. She told me to have a wonderful night and to take care. Due to her friendly demeanor, I was then plagued by feelings of guilt for feeling so strongly about her hair accessory. In conclusion, I think I have finally realized I am not good at yoga. As much as I try to empty my head, no matter how much I try to focus on my powerhouse or my third eye all I can think about is scrunchies. Maybe I am just not meant to be calm. Maybe I am just meant to be all worked up. However, I will keep trying, maybe I’ll pack some Nag Champa or Patchouli to increase my yoga street cred. That ought to help a bit.

Post Holiday Blues

I got the blues. I am not the kind of person who gets depressed during the Holidays or stressed before, but once that tree is down and the ball has dropped I immediately begin to plummet. It really isn’t fair to have so much fun having packed into a one month span of time. And now that my Valentine’s Day will be spent at the Springhill Suites in Schaumburg, IL I do not even have a pink jello shot balla affair to look forward to. I just have several months of Palm Tree laiden loneliness. I made a New Year’s Resolution to be more positive about my stint in SoFla. I mean it really could be a lot worse. Obviously I could be ill, or homeless, or I could have a mob hit out on me. But as it stands I have a stable job, a cute (a bit granny-ish, but cute) apt, a swimming pool, and food to eat. I have all the essentials. Except for my friends and family. Over the past two Holidays I have come to realize just how important these two factors are in my life and overall happiness. Althought I haven’t been exactly my jolly self since migrating south, it has been bearable due to frequent phoning and e-mailing to those from which I am separated. But as soon as I step off that little plane at LaGuardia its like the joy joice will not stop flowing. This past week I was shown by each and everyone of my friends and family members that not only do they love me, but they know me well enough to be there for me in just the ways that I need. My mother was always there with the essential back rub, my father the essential glass of wine, my sister, the essential “i will just agree with this girl so that she doesn’t kill anyone”. My brother with all of the wisdom and sage advice he can muster. I was never without the imperative ice down, olive or cheese snack, witty comment, or inside joke. And of course the fact that I had to leave this cozy oasis of comfort and joy has caused my world to once again come crashing down. Fortunately, I had two of my very best friends help me catch my flight back to the Fort because without that support I think I may have opted to spend the rest of my life on a street corner or hidden in the Met like that wonderful novel “The mixed up files of Basil sometherother” . I love meeting new people, but I have to say there is something so wonderful about being with people that know who I am without having to explain myself. I know I am too young for menopause, but I get hotflashes okay? I have a really odd obsession with small, plump, fuzzy animals. I wish I were Jewish and not Catholic. And I really love that my friends and family not only accept this quirks but actually humor them. This one is for you guys. I love you All and I hope that in time I can be there for you as much as you have for me.