There's this old guy outside who wants his bedroom slippers!

Spent a decent amount of time last night looking at Arlington's crime statistics, thanks to my friend Jeremy who's also moving there and pointed me towards the site. We both decided not to get freaked out about the fact that oh my god, there's CRIME!?! But rather, to get over it and focus on HOW MUCH. The Weyborn house, my favorite at the moment, has very little residential burglary crime. I must repeat this sentence to myself rather than, "Residential crime makes up 2% of that neighborhood's crime." In either case, both Jeremy and I decided that an alarm system is a must-have. As with my Vobeast, I don't really expect that no one's going to steal my car because of it, but I DO think most criminals will be *deterred* from even trying. I cannot fathom how icky it would be to have your house broken into; you'd be stuck living there with the creepy unease of knowing that someone else has been in there doing whatever they pleased.

Hoping to look at said Arlington house tomorrow, but Sam my Real Estate Agent Friend, seems to be undergoing severe drama and busy-ness (which I have yet to be briefed on) and has been amiss in calling or emailing this week. Given my lack of patience, it makes me a little antsy. WANT HOUSE!

And on a completely different but equally important note, why is it that when I blog at work I can do italics but when I blog at home it won't let me? I have a Mac at home and even when I right-click the text, the italics option is shaded, meaning I'm being denied. I tried settling for bold, but it bolded the entire blog. It's annoying and until I figure it out, you'll have to settling for me YELLING the occasional word or just being *lame.*

Back to watching season 2 of The West Wing and trying to ignore the realization that while the rest of the world is ogling the Rob Lowe eye candy (can he PLEASE use his whole mouth to speak?!), I seem to have the steamy twitches for the arrogant, stubborn smart ass Deputy Chief of Staff. I mean really, what does this say about me? It must be good writing in the show, cause I spent the better part of my life loathing this fucker cause he was the sleazebag boyfriend from "Adventures in Babysitting." Wow, on second thought, I've revealed about eight things too many in this paragraph. Better go have a lie-down.