Why Don't the Good Stories Just Stay Good and Be Done With It?
Okay, this sucks, in many ways that I'm pretty sure I'll not even be able to fully capture.
Let me break down the facts as I know them right now.

Its Tuesday night now, early Wednesday morning. Heather's bike was recovered last Friday night. Between the time the bike was returned to the Heather and now several rather unsettling (huge understatement) events have occured.

The first is most likely not tied to the last and the bike theft, and none of the events may be connected at all. I'm not sure which is the most settling of the options. Not that any of them are settling in any way shape or form.

First, another friend's bike was stolen Friday night from about a block away from Heather's, from inside a courtyard of 18 or so apartments. Not the work of a passerby, someone who knew it was there.

Second, on Sunday night (I think), Heather had come home, gone to bed and was woken up by the police after midnight. They'd recovered her purse and some of its contents (including her fakey). Only thing is that she'd not even known they'd been taken as she'd had them with her when she went to bed that night. Someone had entered her apartment while she was there, sleeping, stolen her purse and cellphone and gone.

What if she'd woken up? What if she'd attacked the person? What if? Holy shit, this was right next door to my old house, a place we'd routinely leave unlocked all summer long. This is my neighborhood, this is where I like to think I could leave my wallet on the bench overlooking the beach and get it back. And there's a B & E in this place? Damn, I think we're just about ready for some pissed off and armed local neighborhood watches. Get some pitchforks, a couple of good smoky torches, one or two good hangin' ropes and we got us selves a vigilante posse.

Seriously, I hate to think of a good neighborhood like this one going to shit. It would actually really sadden me alot even though, in all likelihood, its no more than three or four people doing all of this and more likely its one or two.

I was expecting Heather to tell they took her bike as well but no, it was chained up. Inside her apartment.
When did Santa Cruz turn into New York City? No wait, New York City's safer than Santa Cruz now.

At least we don't have any more of those vampires. By the way, these folks say they found the cave they used in the movie, check out the pics and see for yourself. I might have to take a trip up there and see for myself in person.

And no, I don't know how I got from a veritable crime wave in Seabright to vampires and caves. But I did. Oh well, beats more war stuff. By the way, I'm getting a stronger and stronger urge to watch Wag the Dog. Its the most unsettling of thoughts, that all of this, real as it maybe and likely is, is just a ruse to distract us from some other agenda.

But Violence on TV's Fine
I don't have time to get into it right now as its late and I've got another day of furtive looks to avoid tomorrow. But, tonight was, I think, the season finale of The Shield was intense, unrelenting, driven and pulse quickening. Very, very well done and a superbly twisted and contorted story that, in Paula's words, is like reality TV but its actors. The Commish would get eaten alive by Vic Mackey.

So many of the elements. Its a show that enthralls you. When the commercial breaks come I find myself finally noticing that my mouth has been wide open in surprise for about ten minutes. It is, without a doubt, the best show in television. Although Alton Brown's Good Eats on FoodTV's a close second.