Steffi left for Stitch 'n Bitch tonight around 7:30, leaving me alone in the house with Trinity, the cat, and some clean-up to do. After washing the dishes and putting the kitchen in order I moved on to the living room to straighten up a bit. At some point I couldn't help myself and had to bother the cat, picking her up (which she'll only tolerate) and petting her as much as she'd let me.

As soon as I scooped her up off the floor, a rather loud, electronic melody began playing. (No, she had eaten neither our clock radio nor the cell phone.) At first I thought it was an ice-cream truck making a rather late tour around Fidelity Court, but then after just a few more notes it became clear that the tune was "Happy Birthday" -- and it wasn't playing outside, and it wasn't going to stop, either. I moved into the kitchen where the sound appeared to get louder and started looking for the source of the infernal beeping. I pulled the refrigerator away from the wall, opened cupboards and drawers, and nearly began to pull my hair out.

Eventually, I had to enlist the help of my neighbors, who were just arriving home when I spotted them out the kitchen window. They came in after I told them I was about to go insane looking for the Hidden Mouthpiece of the Unending Happy Birthday Song of Death and that I couldn't think straight. With their unaddled ears and some guided searching, we soon discovered the cookie tin in which one lone, relighting birthday candle was piping out its siren call. In a crazy, gleeful fit I separated the candle from its plastic, musical base, finally killing the awful racket. My neighbors went home heroes, and I recovered what little of my sanity I could dig out from behind the fridge.