Sunday after Friday the 13th

I begun my Monday on the road. At 12 midnight I was driving back home. I had a busy Sunday. I visited a police station. I left home with the intention of watching a movie in theatre alone. I trusted someone who later turned out not to be worth the trust. I woke up at 7:30am Monday morning.


I have become a mutant version of my former self.


It was an interesting weekend. Saturday was ecstatic, Sunday sucked (and not gently with passion using the lips and tongue but violently with intent and using mostly the palate and the teeth), but I saved the day and broke even for the weekend.

Imagine this, you meet someone at a random social gathering. You the meet this person not so randomly on a social network. You go ahead and meet this person at an arranged social gathering. You also invite this person to a friends house for a party. At this juncture, aren't you allowed to assume that you can trust them by inviting them to sleep at your place after a tiring party night? Well, I did. But I took my beloved techies (Ippy, Lappy and Droidy) and my wallet close to me. As I often say, paranoia and grace have kept me these many twenty-something years.

What I didn't anticipate is one of my friends coming up with a macbook and keeping it next to him overnight with a stranger around. So in the morning the macbook has gone. And a phone from the next room and an external hard disk and some money from my friend's wallet. Ippy and Droidy might have gone but the good Lord made me paranoid enough to be a light (but easily satisfied) sleeper coz the thief tapped me to see if I was awake.

So my Sunday was wasted trying to trace them (without much success) and reporting the matter to the police station.

I felt disappointed. First, my friend trusted that my house is the sanctuary its always been, and suffered loss for that trust. Second, my house is my sanctuary. For every person who lives alone or with people they have chosen, home is a SANCTUARY - a place to go to when the whole world hates you, a place where no one can ask you why the world hates you. To be pilfered in your own sanctuary is a gross violation of some principal but as yet unnamed tenet. I now have so much more faith in humanity.


The cop wrote "markbook" - I cannot, at this point, figure out what words would express what I felt.


So, to remedy the day, I went to watch Thor in 3D. I'm a sci fi fan, so I loved it. The effects especially. The thing with sci fi movies, unless its Star Wars, we don't care for or expect much of a plot. Just throw in a good looking person, a responsible person, some kind of moral of the story and a good ending and we'll be content.

This weekend I had two opportunities to get back at two people who I think would have deserved it. The thing is, there are certain people who seem unable to resist me in person but can come up with all manner of nasty approaches online or on phone. These two fell into that category. So I randomly stumbled upon them, and did nothing, well, nothing much. Seems I could be, perhaps, in some dimensions related to this one, vaguely probably considered to slightly convince a few as to my possible ability to be, in all uncertain terms, nice.

Random thought - to a not so random week. I also find myself wondering what a specific someone is doing, whether they're having fun, with who, and generally whether all their toes are intact.

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