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Which I didn't intend to be a pun, I promise

Someone broke into our house at some point today while we were both at work. They stole some stuff, but most of the really valuable things were, fortunately, large and heavy, so Reuben's best musical equipment is all still here. They also didn't know expensive jewelry from worthless junk, so stole a bunch of clip-on earrings, probably valued at, like, five bucks a pair, and left my $400 tanzanite and diamond necklace, some gold earrings, and various other genuine-gem earrings. They did steal two video game systems and my tablet PC (and this will be the second time I've had to replace the tablet, grr), but left behind my little iBook (I guess they don't like Macs). And my iPod was cleverly hidden in my gym bag, so that's still here, along with all the four other computers and most, if not all, of the rest of the computer equipment--though it looks like they may have stolen one or two $50 video cards.

At least there's some irony to enjoy--it's a pretty unpleasant sensation, to come home and find that the house has been broken into. The cats are ok, and we really didn't lose that much, but jesus. They left the board they pried the sliding glass door open with in the middle of the goddamned living room.

Pictures may be forthcoming.

This is, absolutely, a cry for sympathy.

---Update---

Still not sure how they pried the glass door open, or why they would leave a wood post in the middle of the living room. The post doesn't look damaged enough to have been used as a prybar, but maybe I'm underestimating wood. Looks like they came in through the kitchen, possibly grabbed some stuff and then went to the bedroom. They took the pillowcase off of my pillow and presumably used it to gather stuff into. They, or he, took the change next to my nightstand. They pulled out select drawers, by random it seems. They missed all the valuable jewelry, but they did take my digital cameras, the gamecube and controllers, and the ps2. They remembered to take the power adapters for the systems.

Since they jacked my cameras, I stopped at the Target and got the crappiest digital camera they had.

Broken latch
Board in the living room
They got the gamecube controllers
Bye bye cameras
Let's ransack this room with all the papery things
Not interested in photos of me as a kid?
Bed pulled out to look for...something
Nightstand torn apart
Abelard and empty jewelry case
Got the costume jewelry, alright.
What, they didn't want Jessica's jammies?

The neighbors didn't see much of anything. Just a black Ford Focus parked suspiciously outside around 10am. The policeman who came seemed to think we were pretty lucky, and that it was just a (very) stupid kid. After all, he grabbed the gamecube? How much is a gamecube these days?

Pictures of dinoaurs are, I agree, extremely nifty.

I'm glad someone else thinks so, and I'm sorry that I don't actually have any pictures of dinosaurs.

Last night Jessica and I had a lovely trip out to the Tyler Mall.

"Hey, do you want to go to Ruby's and then do a little shopping?" Thus were spoken the words that ended my life.

We spent around 25 minutes in Macy's while Jessica tried on several pairs of shoes, but seemed unable to get the attention of the addled employees. At least one of the other patrons repeatedly talked to us, which really breaks my imaginary antisocial bubble. "Isn't shopping for shoes fun?", said the fellow customer.

After that fruitless shopping search, we got to go into Express and Ann Taylor Loft (when I type those, my penis shrivels up a little, embarrassed that I can remember the names). "Wait," I thought to myself, "do those places have shoes?" Indeed, no. This was shopping for yet another sweater. In September. For a wedding in Newbury Park. In September. The dog days of summer.

"It might be cold inside."

After more useless rack wrangling, unable to find a sweater to her liking (who knew that there was a sweater Jessica didn't want to own?): "ok, let's go to Nordstrom."

Oops, we overshot Nordstrom and ended up in the Body Shop. She "needed" some stuff from there, naturally. The air in The Body Shop stings the nostrils with its citrusy, waxy, somewhat ass-smelling odor. After selecting some useless makeup type thing, she had to buy yet another type of balm in order to get some kind of "points" on her "card."

Then we get to Nordstom. The friendly guy got her, and I'm estimating here, a MILLION pairs of shoes. Each was unsatisfactory. Toes crushed, too big, too pointy.

My favorite line: "hmmm, these are really more like trouser shoes."

I reckon that the salesman had a punching bag in the back that he hit everytime he had to go back again.