Remember the Happy Hippy?

Well, I'm still fascinated by him, even had a dream about him last night where he brought me strings of yarns in all different colors and was showing me what they all meant. I took them as allergy markers of what he had. Yes, whatever that means. Now that the weather's getting warmer, everyone's getting out around the courtyard more, so I've seen Happy a few good times -- always happy, always doing the usual in an unusual way. I wanted to write observation here about him, even today, but I just haven't said anything.

But luckily, girls tend to search and work in packs, and one of my exceptionally gifted team pack leaders (who will remain anonymous) has found out a few more things about the Happy Hippy and emailed them along. Let's read on:

"I was out fact finding on the happy hippy today and thought I would keep you apprised. I found out three additional pieces of information to add to our files:

"1. He doesn't know who Etta James is, even though he claims to be 'old school.' So, he has bad taste in music apparently. Might be a rocker afterall as completely unversed as he is in blues and jazz. I bet he has an old Pantera cassette in his apartment or something equally horrific. Tesla? But don't laugh too hard because I think my husband owns every CD put out by Tesla and has even seen them in concert multiple times.

"2. He is apparently heterosexual, as he referenced an ex-girlfriend. She gave him a cat who is now 13 years old, so we know at least 13 years ago he dated -- apparently quite seriously if the giving of living creatures was involved.

"3. Since he has a cat that he apparently loves (he sets out bowls of water for bird baths so the cat can watch them through his freakishly clean windows -- have you looked in, er I mean AT, his windows lately? They're freakishly clean), he probably isn't a serial killer. Serial killers usually get their start by torturing animals.

"So there you go. Add it to the files."