just returned from a stint at a local laundromat. my washer/dryer just ain't a'big enough for my comforter; and since it had been probably around a year since the damn thing had been washed, i thought it high time to make my way there. i had avoided going to the laundromat for weeks since i didn't want to be a target for the sniper duo; but i thought today the coast was clear, and i ventured out.

this time, i went to the laundromat in Westover. usually, i go to la lavanderia where i am literally the only english-speaking person in the place. not a big deal as long as i know what i am doing and don't require any assistance. mi espanol no es bueno y'know, despite 3 semesters of spanish and two years of life in miami being mistaken as someone who actually was a native speaker. (and don't ask me about my famous Zayres flea bomb/por matar los insectos tale or you will cough up a lung.)

anyway, only two guys total at the laundromat today. one guy who, i am quite sure, thought i was a psycho (lord help me, i opened the door of the oh-mi-gawd-sized washer to put in some late soap and some water spilled out, and suddenly, i am branded as the bad girl of the laundry) because of my lack of ept when it comes to industrial-sized machines; and one guy who basically looked like bootsy collins meets eldridge cleaver. (you had to see the knee-high, lace-up boots.) i read my library book about The Mitfords (and talk about a dotty family – whew, those sisters were strange agents!) and just tried to bide my time.

a thousand quarters later, i am so very glad i finally got off my ass. clean comforters are good comforters. and i think i am going to curl up with mine now.

BC loves Grammar Rock and History Rock. but right now, she loves to sing “Busy Propositions, always on the march.” oh, what a difference a letter makes.

this just in: Dog shoots owner

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in between the glamourous duties of my life (things like cutting 3 weeks' worth of coupons, doing 5 loads of laundry, changing sheets, and other assorted domestic-goddess tasks), i have been riveted by the never-ending reports about the capture of the alleged snipers. i will not believe that these are the guys until all sniper-like shooting stops and these guys are totally caught with the goods, but i am not ashamed to say i have been praying for this capture for weeks.

the fact that some intelligent and intrepid soul stopped to realize that this was a car in question stymies me. i usually have such an incredibly low hope level about people willing to stick their necks out for others. (only because i do and i do and mine gets stepped on or chopped off, every single time.) yet this person did it.

additionally, for some wacky, kooky reason, one of the alleged culprits sought out clergy and talked not only of his recent exploits but of exploits in alabama as well. thank G-d the clergyperson told police. this may be one of the few times i can say i am so glad there are clergy walking the earth.

but if the culprit claimed to be G-d, then why on earth would He need clergy? ok, so i am being a bit cheeky here. but you know, i am so very annoyed by these bastards. i am sure when all is said and done, we will hear about how these poor people were somehow fucked with during their formative years. because someone, somewhere mistreated you in some way during your life, you feel the need to take it out on others. gee, i never got picked to be a popular kid. gee, kids picked on me because i was short/tall/fat/thin/different race/different religion/different planet. etc etc.

boo fucking hoo.

there are millions, probably billions of people who experience this stuff every single fucking day, and somehow, they rise above it. i remember being taunted when i was young because of my religion/ethnicity. i never decided that mass murder or mayhem was a career option for me. why? probably because my parents would have killed me. but seriously, what makes some people rise above these things and others not?

if anyone can recommend a book on that sort of issue, i would be most appreciative.

in the meantime, bully for those who stuck their necks out!

in case anyone is interested, a friend gathered these from the washington post. if you are so inclined, be generous.

“Sonny's Kids,” a fund to benefit needy youths, was set up in memory of James L. “Sonny” Buchanan, c/o Sandy Spring Bank, P.O. Box 10666, Rockville, Md. 20849.

Sarah Ramos Memorial Fund, for Ramos's husband and young son: Sarah Ramos Memorial Fund, 14904 New Hampshire Ave., Silver Spring, Md. 20905.

James D. Martin Educational Trust Fund, a fund to benefit Martin's son. PO Box 10547, Silver Spring, Maryland 20904.

The Lori Lewis Rivera Family Fund, c/o Temple Sinai Nursery School, 3100 Military Rd. NW, Washington, D.C. 20015.

A trust fund has been set up to support the education of Premkumar A. Walekar's two children. Checks should be made payable to Sligo Seventh-day Adventist Church, 7700 Carroll Ave., Takoma Park, Md. 20912; mark donations “Walekar Trust Fund.”

A fund was also established for the 13-year-old boy shot outside Benjamin Tasker Middle School in Bowie. Contributions should be sent to: “He's a Fighter Fund,” c/o Riggs Bank, P.O. Box 96758, Washington, D.C. 20090-0560.

National Capital Area Healing Fund, c/o United Way, 95 M St. SW, Washington, D.C. 20024. Donations also can be made through the Web site www.unitedwaynca.org or SunTrust Bank branches in the Washington area.

The Victims' Rights Foundation, Attn: Sniper Victims' Fund, 814 W. Diamond Ave., Suite 200, Gaithersburg, Md. 20878.

A fund to assist victims of breast cancer or violent crime, established by the family of Linda Franklin…Linda G. Franklin Memorial Fund, Mount Olivet United Methodist Church, 1500 N. Glebe Rd., Arlington, VA., 22207

A fund to assist the wife and six children of Kenneth Bridges…Ken Bridges Memorial Fund c/0 Milligan & Co. CPAs, 105 N. 22nd St., Second Floor, Philadelphia, PA 19103

as if i am not nauseous enough today.

gentlemen have come to clean the chimney out. we need a new damper in the fireplace ($375 please – cha-ching) because there is a dead squirrel in there.

well, that answers the question from the other day: what is making that g-d-awful smell.

i just realized that there are no electrical outlets in my newly-redone bathroom. there used to be at least one that i know of.

this cannot be good.

i just saw the picture of the woman killed today, and i realize i knew her. i didn't make the initial association when i first heard the name – linda franklin. but i was hoping when i saw the picture — no, that can't be linda from swim class. i ran upstairs to my swim bag where i knew i had her name and phone number. please don't be it, please don't be it. i was literally saying that out loud, over and over.

it was linda from swim class.

i feel sick inside.

linda was a cool chick. she worked for the FBI doing computer security type work, anti terrorist work. we were in a swim class together – water walking – last spring, and she was my walking buddy. many of the women in the class were breast cancer survivors, and she was as well. she had a sensational sense of humor about her cancer, and we really clicked. we talked about breast cancer, about her work (as much as she could tell me, of course) – her work was something i knew would interest BS, and i kept meaning to call her up and try to get together. but life got in my way, and i never got to do that.

i feel sick. and i am merely an acquaintance. g-d knows what her family feels. i read that her husband bent over and tried to shield her body after she was shot.

i have no more words.