2/20/06

12:21 p.m.

Hey there, bloglit! Just a quick note to let you know I'm still alive. I know I've been neglecting you. I just sent LHM back home to Cali. He's jsut a really big distraction.

Ahem.

Anyway, I'm on call at the ME's office every night this week, so I should have some pretty good stories for you.

One funny thing:

I sent Pippie up to do an interview on Monday and she ended up getting caught in a blizzard. She was on the freeway and traffic was at a stand-still for hours. I got a call from her at about noon informing me she wasn't there yet and she had to pee really bad.

"Do you have a bucket?"

"No."

"Sheesh, girl! Have I taught you nothing? What about a Burger King cup or something?"

"Hey! I DO have a Burger King cup!" She said excitedly.

"Just be careful not to spill. Trust me on this."

I hung up the phone feeling a little jealous that I wasn't stuck in a blizzard peeing in a cup among voyeuristic truckers.

I'm weird that way.

2/15/06

9:28 a.m.

This morning I got a call from Pippie. As I'd mentioned before, she's working cases for me on occasion as well as being a coworker at the MEO. She's currently on a surveillance north of here and was checking in.

"So, Polly, I found your blog this morning."

Silence. Oh, fudge.

"That picture of you is hot."

More silence. "I...how did you find my blog?"

"Well, hell, girl. I'm a detective!"

Damn. That's true, you are. "Um...you understand... Please don't tell anybody at the office!"

"Aw, don't worry about it. Your secret's safe with me...for now. But you better go in quick and change all the mean things you said about me or I might change my mind."


"I never said anything mean about you! I just talked about when you stuck the giant Hershey's Kiss in your sweater and pretended it was an accessory nipple."

"Huh. You realize that you're mine, now. I own you. Which reminds me...there's this really nice watch I found at the Outlet Mall the other day. It would be a great gift for Pippie Day."

"You're birthday is coming up?"

"No. Pippie Day."

"Oh."

So, bloglit. I am now Pippie's slave...cabana boy...French maid...

I'm sure she won't take advantage.

TESTING...

Hi, Bloglit.

I've been informed by many sources that y'all haven't been able to post comments since Friday. (And here I thought you didn't love me anymore.) I lost a couple of entries I tried to post in that time, too.

So, this morning I smacked the side of the monitor a few times and I'm hoping the problem is fixed. Please comment if you can. If not, email me and I'll try yelling expletives at the rotten thing. I'm sure that will work.

Polly