To all window-smashers: If you're going to fucking break my window and rifle through all my shit, you might as well fucking TAKE SOMETHING other than my sense of security, 'kay? Thanks, asshole(s).

Beware, not leaving anything in sight doesn't mean you won't be standing on the sidewalk at 2 a.m. wondering what the fucking hell happened here? And how do I get a cop without dialing 911? [Answer: call 411, ask for the non-emergency line for the police]

It hasn't sunk in yet. I mean, brand new car, nothing stolen, just a heck of a lot of glass in my passenger seat, some on my seat, and a few pieces in the back. The window smashers opened the glovebox, didn't like my collection of empty cd cases, my map of Oakland, my tiny binoculars, or the registration to the car. They opened the arm rest thingy and took out all the Clif bars I have stashed there for emergencies. But they didn't take any. They didn't take the ibuprofen, the Fastrack, or the St. Christopher medal either. Not even the quarter. What was the point?

Now I'm going to get bugs in my car, and you know how I feel about that. Really, at this point, I'm just distressed about the glass (how do you get rid of glass?) and the bugs.

Be careful what you wish for. I complain of non-drama, and look what I get.