Those are the sounds made by my unwelcome newest housemate.
Beau, the dog, was certain of his presence before I would admit we had a mouse in the house — I'm still convinced he's a lone mouse — but I couldn't deny it any longer when I stared the mouse in his tiny, furry, adorable face in the living room. Beau seems intent on conquering the mouse himself, so I called for him. He doesn't listen well. The mouse took the cue better than my faithful guard dog and scurried back to a hiding place.
Is this a wish list? Not exactly. I have on many occasions had people ask me, "Wow, where did you get that (article of clothing/pair of shoes/necklace/useful item)?" — usually, I can respond that I bought the item locally (and mostly downtown), which surprises some people. More than a wish list, it is a guide on how to shop locally for most anything you need, with special attention to small businesses and locally-made goods. It's not a complete list of places to shop in town, it's more a list of places I frequent.
October has become a bittersweet month for me. Halloween is my favorite holiday (one point for October), I had a hard time falling asleep last night because the whole town had that haunted feeling with rattling window panes and howling wind (minus one), Juneau is all ours again (plus one), and it's PINKWASHING MONTH (minus 50).
Though the biggest debate seems to be over whether the potential Vista Drive development is in North Douglas, West Juneau or Douglas — it is quite confusing for someone fresh to Juneau, or anyone who hasn't lived on the Island, so let's give our new City and Education reporter a break — the debate raging in my head was whether or not to call out the concern trolls.
This weekend, a friend and I went out to dance at a local bar, accompanied by a couple male friends. We were content to dance amongst ourselves, but both my friend and I accepted invitations to dance with another patron, a friend of a friend. His actions that night reminded me that identifying as a 'nice guy' is not the same as being a nice guy.
Actually, I'm a good sport in the sense that I'm a very graceful loser when I fail miserably in a sport (and then quit it), because I have discovered that I have no natural talent for sports and getting upset when I fall, miss, trip, go too slow or otherwise fail would lead to much unhappiness.
Proof of my poor abilities, despite my desire to be one of those sporty and fit types, is in the abandoned athletic gear that has cluttered my homes.