(H)ey, yo, MOVE it.

I've been identifying myself lately as a "hard, urban dweller." Maybe not always the "hard" part, but either way, I've lived in Philly for over a year now, and here's proof of this blessed lifestyle transformation:

- I drink coffee at least four days/week. Large coffees. No of that small , watching-my-figure business. Cutting out sugar- next goes cream.

- By my estimate, every fourth word out of my mouth (mainly when commuting)is one that the FCC wouldn't allow at their most lenient. It cracks me up, cussing. The combinations, such as "I'm a grown a-- man", "F--- that s---" (personal favorite), and, as noted by my little brother, "Hurts like a son of a b----". What do these even mean? If nothing else, cussing provides comic relief.

- I have seen at least three or four different mice today: one at work, two or three at home. After my initial yelp and "HEY!" they still hung around. These yelps have been less frequent, although seeing those same few mice run amok in our dining room has not. In fact, I just heard one in our wall. I might be getting to the point where we are co-existing peacefully, like when I had a hamster, kind of. But this means that extermination will get all the more difficult, as we're getting used to each other. My terms are these: don't crap everywhere, don't crawl on me, and don't give me hantavirus. Especially the hantavirus- I don't have health insurance.