yur govmint at work

No, no, no. I'm not gonna talk politics. I'm just going to let you know that I got an automated phone call from the city the other day informing me that we on the lower North Shore have been designated a Federal disaster area for the October 4th flash flood. This means that had my flooded basement actually caused me any damage that my insurance company did not pay for***, I would have been eligible for a low interest loan to fix that shit up. Go, Mr Obama's minions! There's an office set up to process this at the Salem city hall annex. Not that I needed to know this, but I did listen to the whole recording.

My city government, in totally unrelated news, is rolling out these new test recycling bins that are bigger than my actual trash barrels. You could fit hella stuff in them. Unfortunately, only a few streets got them. Including the one around the corner from me, but not mine. I am stuck with two little tubs the size of a milk crate. So every recycling day, I walk past the neighbors' giant bins with seething envy, cursing their good fortune. I would *love* to recycle everything possible, but sometimes my bins are full before pickup day and I have to throw plastic in the trash, like a very, very bad girl.

And finally, my mayor (and former blog subject) is bitching because apparently the UN has been resettling refugees here and the school department is stuck trying to educate kids who come from tribes with no written language and/or who have never set foot in an actual school before. This costs, as you may imagine, lots and lots o' money, and our mayor thinks the UN ought to be ponying up some cash or else stop sending people here. It is kind of bizarre that the UN would single us out as some place to resettle people who heretofore were herding cows or some such. Wouldn't some place a.) warmer and b.) less,um, aggressively urban be less of an adjustment? Arizona! They should send them to Arizona! They like immigrants there!

Oh, I kill myself.

xoxo

I forgot the motherfucking footnote again. This isn't even funny.

***I don't think I told you, but the day I was bailing out my basement, the insurance guy finally called me back noon-ish and I told him I had it under control and wasn't going to need to hire anyone, so Ididn't need his help. And then I hung up without finding out whether it *would* have been covered. So I still don't know. D'oh.