So, today I came home from Oregon. What did I find when I arrived? Sparky was missing. I couldn't believe it at first. I didn't believe it! I searched all around the fourplex, in and out of storage areas... nothing. Somebody (or somebodies, more like it) decided that it was a good idea to take my scooter, which I use to save the environment and therefore everybody, which had a flat rear tire, and a lock through that tire, and no headlight. In order to make it move, they would have to hotwire it, since it requires a key. Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable. I had a chat with officer Elias today about it, have a case number... oh, there will be hell to pay if it shows up at a local pawnshop.

Besides Sparky, who is like my son, the rear storage area (where my landlord, Michael Jackson (no kiddin') keeps ladders, buckets, etc) was wide open and an entire roll of carpeting was outside, and into my carport area. Furthermore, a roll of photographs of my downstairs neightbor were placed on the hood of my car. Wtf?

My downstairs neighbor has been gone for a week as well, and she comes back tomorrow. Apparently her car was broken into (the back window was smashed), so I should count my blessings that Blue Steel didn't have a scratch. Still, so much trouble. Should I buy a house in Wallowa and work remotely from now on? Hanging out with my Seattle homies will be a problem, though.

Ugh. Rage. I can't believe that happened. Sparky, I'm sorry I bought a car, but you're just not built for the wintertime, and you could only go 10 miles before a recharge. Please come back! I didn't mean for you to run away. I... love you, Sparky.

Well, Andrea's coming over in a little bit and I'm installing Half Life 2. One of those, if not both, is certain to make me feel better. I'm also drowning my sorrows in Delerium Ale (link to coaster), an excellent seasonal Belgian beer that costs too much.