Wednesday, January 27, 2010


Lovely Erin

Yesterday at 8:30 in the morning (Pacific Standard Time, 4:30 in the morning 1-27-10 in Fiji) I knocked on the door to my lovely case manager's office, Erin (pictured above in all of her loveliness), for our appointed monthly case management session, which she is required to document and keep up to date, or else her bosses would wonder why she was not keeping up her on her case notes, fire her, resulting in her becoming destitute, and ultimately homeless, winding up living in a place like this in the Shelter Care Plus program, start drinking and shooting heroin and smoking crack, begin turning tricks, and dying before reaching 29 years of age.
So I was doing her this favor, and I had already requested that she read the story found on this very blog below, "How Hardy Ruined My Life," so we could discuss the implications involved therein. She did that, but unfortunately for me, while on her way to that particular post she passed "The Demise Of The Garden Club," and skimmed through that post as well.
Well I'm very happy to report that through the power of self examination, reflection, a dose of honesty, caring, and dare I say, a touch of love, we both came to an accord, my position as her favorite reinstated, and a firm pact to eat McGriddles together each Tuesday morning from now on (she says she's tired of the beans and salad of the Hippie Kitchen, and I can't say as I blame her, something about not enough trans-isomer fatty acids for her taste). We both left the meeting feeling much better about ourselves, and each other (at least I did), and the rest of my day was peaches and roses.
She did point out what may have been some small inconsistencies in the two stories, or posts listed above, that directly concern my dear friend Erin, which she asked politely for me to clear up if I was so inclined. She wanted for me to make clear that these... corrections... were being made of my own free will, and not hindered by outside influence, and had nothing to do with the 9mm semi automatic handgun she had brought with her into work that morning in preparation for our meeting.
So here goes, corrections to mistakes I may have inadvertently made while composing "The Demise Of The Garden Club," and "How Hardy Ruined My Life."
Erin does not have a squeaky voice. Nor is it in anyway shrill, screechy, squealing, piercing, high-pitched, or in any way be categorized as a caterwaul. She has a lovely voice for a girl, and she is a wonderful and vibrant singer of songs as well.
Oh yes, she in no way, shape, or form... chirps.
Nor has she ever chirped. She is chirpless.
Erin is not evil, nor lazy, and does not employ a sociopathic attitude toward the plants in our garden. As a matter of fact she has volunteered to restart the Garden Club once she learned that the plants were actually thriving due to our recent bouts of rainy weather. I insisted she not worry about it, and that I would take care of the garden until she got caught up on her case notes so she won't be fired, become destitute, etc. etc. etc.
She only drives me crazy one quarter of the time rather than half. An important distinction.
She wanted you to know that Paul did not really chop my head off, as that would have been against the law, state and federal, an definitely a direct violation of the Skid Row Housing Trust's Code of Ethics for Residential Service Coordinators. Definitely.
Erin did bring in that DVD for my niece's birthday, in direct contradiction to what I conveyed in the Hardy story. I'm so bad.
She says she will find the time to read my blog on a regular basis, part of her effort to reinvigorate her attitude toward her work. I think we should all applaud her admirable attitude and honesty, and I hereby invite everyone to read my blog to achieve similar results.
I want you to know that winning the Case Management Appointment Contest is a big thrill. Especially if you are the only one to enter for the month, like I did, and am the actual winner of said contest by default. A very big thrill!
Erin wants you to know that I did not provide photographic evidence of Hardy stealing her away from me, and that the photograph presented was doctored to look that way, being taken at the 2008 Christmas party here at the Las Americas. I vow to tirelessly work to discover who could have perpetrated such a blatant hoax.
Erin also wants you, dear readers, to know that the picture presented in "The Demise Of The Garden Club," of the garden she and Paul would have killed if I had not intervened, was not in fact that of our garden out back. That was entirely my mistake, and I apologize profusely, and have posted the real picture of our garden above.
And last, but certainly not least, and not part of the demands made upon me by Erin, but of my own initiative, I make the following assertion: Erin is indeed lovely. Very lovely. The loveliest.
Now please Erin, point that thing somewhere else.

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