Wednesday night personal

Lucas watching "Rat Busters." Here they're busting pigeons.

Back from gym. No new "Restaurant: Impossible" tonight. I've settled on "Rat Busters NYC." I'm not into UFOs or house renovations (not tonight), and I don't care whether there's gold in Fort Knox or not. (To base a whole show - "Brad Meltzer's Decoded" - on speculation about whether there's still gold in Fort Knox is a big a waste of time, in my opinion.)

E.'s still waiting to hear something definitive about his new place. Today he called the Renter's Paradise agent and she told him he had "nothing to worry about." I certainly hope so. To back up a bit: Last week E. had asked me about co-signing a lease with him, if necessary. I said I would, but on second thought, I really don't think I should. (Let his sister do it.) I'm afraid - and have good reason to be - some new bad-boy BF might come along and E. would move in with him and leave me stuck with paying the rent on his apartment. That would really piss me off. And I can't afford possibly parting with an extra $800 a month for however long. His sister manages apartment complexes for a living. Let her co-sign, if it comes to that.

But, of course, I'm hoping for the best for E. and don't mean to dwell on the down side. Tomorrow's his 44th birthday, by the way. I'll get him a card.

Even if E. turned out to be a reliable renter - and I think he would be - I still wouldn't want to be a co-signer. I'm tired of being his protector. Let's be on a more equal footing. It's enough that I found (through CraigsList) the agent at Renter's Paradise who's helping him. I thought they'd be compatible, since they're both transplants from Brooklyn. (She'd told me she was from NYC and I detected a Brooklyn accent.) I just hope for E.'s sake the uncertainty is over very soon.

Today I chipped a corner of one of my front teeth that had already been chipped and bonded. (It's not that noticeable but will have to be fixed.) I forget about the tooth, even though my dental hygienist warns me every time I see her. Today I was gnawing on a pork chop bone, and shortly after that I realized what had happened (my tongue felt the jagged edges). I'd fried up some delicious marinated pork chops the other night and taken them to work for lunch. From now on, I'll bake pork chops in the oven with sour cream, fresh onion, and mushroom soup (Mom's recipe) till the meat "falls off the bone," as they say.

[The pigeons in the bucket were too young to fly, and Rat Busters is more merciful with young pigeons than with young rats. Click on photo to enlarge it.]