Maybe my luck really is changing?

Horrendously complicated long story short: I dropped my cellphone into the toilet.

Not good. Pride hit bottom after THAT one, I assure you. [splat] Jesus.

Bad things happened. Then the weird got weirder. Out came the hairdryer, apart came the phone. [whirrrrr] [fritz-snap-whonk] Then I resolved that I buy a new phone Monday.

Nosirree, Bob! WORKS peachy fucking keen! Dried out after a few hours of not fucking with it, and all is good! But if it was one of them newfangled fancy-ass showboat phones, I'd bet that it'd be dead now. WHEW.

And I somehow managed to fluke out and park in the one block of Commercial Drive that wasn't a no-parking zone for tonight's festivities. Yippy-skippy! I's a lucky gal!

I'm wiped so I made an early night of it, and now I'm going to hunt for a scary movie on TV and enjoy a glass of wine.

Two photos. One, fog lingering last Sunday morning over Burrard Bridge. Two, the skeletal lady with the cool house across from Grandview Park at tonight's Parade of the Lost Souls.