Please excuse my hair in this photo. It's doing something wonky... and yes, that is definitely a word.
Dress: eShakti
Cardigan: Halogen (via Nordstrom)
Earrings: Random store in Rome
Shoes: Rockport
Bracelet: Trollbeads
Sweater Clip: DIY
Headband: Nordstrom
This story begins, as many do, with a little known fact about myself. I snore. And not dainty, aw-shucks-isn't-she-cute snores, but my-God-in-heaven-how-did-this-trucker-get-in-my-bed snores. I don't do it often (as far as I know...), but when I do, Mr. CP understandably has trouble sleeping. Such was the case night before last, which is how Mr. CP came to be napping yesterday afternoon. I had a couple errands to run, so I quietly exited the house and started skipping my way down the steps (we have about 20 steps that lead up to our house from the street). Imagine my shock when I got to the bottom of the steps only to see a a homeless guy asleep/passed out/dead (I had no idea which at that point) at the base of the stairs. I really didn't want to wake Mr. CP up. It was my fault he was exhausted, after all. So my initial inclination was to try to step over the homeless man, but he was rather a big boned fellow, if you catch my drift. I also didn't want to risk pissing him off, as there are some rather volatile homeless people here in Seattle. I contemplated climbing over the fence into Neighbor #1's yard, but the fence is about six feet tall, and I'm really, really not at all agile. I thought about trying to climb through the ivy into Neighbor #2's yard, but that sounded like an even dumber idea than trying to scale the fence. Spiders?! Nuh-uh! No way! Not gonna happen! So I just sort of stood there... staring down at the homeless guy... willing him to wake up. Which he didn't do. I quietly ascended the stairs back into the house, and woke Mr. CP up from his peaceful slumber. At which point we both descended the front stairs... and stared at the homeless guy... and willed him to wake up. Which he still didn't do. Neither of us wanted to wake him, so we rock-paper-scissored to see who would call the Police Department (I lost... BLAST!). Because I wasn't sure whether the guy was asleep or dead, they put me on the line with the Fire Department... who came out with a giant truck, an entire crew, and three or four EMTs. And that, my friends, is how the Fire Department came to be at our house for the second time in two weeks. It turned out the man wasn't dead, just drunk and passed out, thank goodness. They were kind enough to bundle him up and take him to a local shelter, where I hope he's faring better.
Oh, yeah. I almost forgot to mention that the crew that came out yesterday was the same crew that came out when our pipe burst. I'm pretty sure they think we're raging fools. They were speaking to me veeeeeery slooooooowly like I was about four years old.
