I am drinking a Summit Winter Ale anticipating tomorrow, when we will no longer have President Bush, but President Obama! Here is to a greater America, in which we can accomplish greatness. Because I am celebrating the end of the Bush-era, I wanted to paint my toenails, so I searched for my blue nail polish. Instead of finding my blue nail polish, I found the social security card of a man who died in my old apartment….that’s what this post really is about..
So, in February of last year, I moved out of my place with Court because I needed space and time to think about where our relationship was headed, etc, etc..I am living with him again, in our tiny one bedroom and our adorable kitty. Anyway, I moved into another tiny one bedroom, which was oh-so-cute, but had a little bit of trauma unbeknown to me. Apparently the previous resident was bi-polar who had violent outbreaks and had recently gone off of the medication. Well, one night he broke into the upstairs apartment which then had three girls living in it–and hid naked until they came home. He attempted to rape one of them, and attacked her so badly she had to be hospitalized for her injuries. Fortunate for her, her room mate was able to call the police…well, long story short, the police ended up shooting and killing him. The girls moved out. I moved into his apartment, and found his social security card along with some ‘blood’ stained walls in the kitchen which are below where he was shot. I always felt a little off at the place, and then I found that out about halfway through my living there. That would really only happen to me.
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plopfizz's journal
