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Archive for January, 2001

01/31/2001

by @ Wednesday, January 31st, 2001. Filed under Life

did – wrote to me, basically saying that she was never going to visit either of our sites again and that I shouldn’t respond to her email. Naturally, I was left surprised with a big cartoonish question mark over my head. I mean, what the fuck did I do? It reminds me of when the cats are sitting around, and Tubby for no reason whatsoever kicks his hind foot at Miz Poo, so she turns around and smacks Spanky – who was minding his own business – upside the head. I swear, I was just sitting there minding my own business… Boy, do I hurt. I don’t know what I did to myself, but both my calves are stiff and are aching. I’d blame it on the fact that I spent three hours cleaning the upstairs (are ya shocked?? I cleaned upstairs, and IT’S NOT UPSTAIRS CLEANING DAY! Do you feel like your world is a little off-kilter? Well, mine too – as I was dusting the living room, I was musing about how much I was looking forward to seeing Survivor 2 tonight; that’s okay, though, I’ll just watch Temptation Island instead!), but they were hurting before I even went upstairs to clean. I’m sure it’s due to the fact that I’ve been exercising for something like 3 weeks without a day off (’twas a personal challenge to myself). Oh, poor, poor pitiful me… Speaking of poor, pitiful me, a special smack upside the head goes to Fred, who suggested I take some of his hydrocodone last night – we’re both coughing a lot these last few days – knowing FULL WELL that one of the side effects of said Hydrocodone is CONSTIPATION. Well, I won’t share any details (for which I’m sure y’all are eternally grateful), but do you think I need to have my system clogged up the day before Weigh Day? I THINK NOT. Speaking of Temptation Island (which I was up there somewhere), I have a prediction about tonight’s show. I’ll be interested to see if I’m right. Remember how at the end of last week’s show, Ytossi wanted to make a tape for Taheed, but he didn’t want to make one for her? My prediction is that she’s going to say something in the tape she makes for him that gives the producers a heads up that they have a kid together. I got the distinct impression last week that she’s ready for the game to be over. Anyone else get that impression? I just realized this morning that they’re rerunning Survivor 2 against Temptation Island. Tough decision, but I know I’ll be watching T.I, since I’ve already seen S2. Oh, and lest I forget – thanks to whomever nominated me for the Diarist Awards! (Now don’t forget to go vote if you have a journal. Again, it doesn’t have to be for me, but do go vote!) —–]]>

01/30/2001

by @ Tuesday, January 30th, 2001. Filed under Life

iet journal for more). By the time I was done exercising, it was 8:39. Since I didn’t have to wash and dry my hair, I figured that was plenty of time, especially since the hair salon is only about 3 minutes away. Well, because of Fred (have I mentioned that EVERYTHING is that man’s fault?) who had to call and read a hilarious email from Moira to me, I ended up being 7 minutes late. It was no biggie, though, ’cause I’ve surely waited longer than that for Bev to show up, more than once. I thought Bev would fall on the floor in a dead faint when I told her I was going to grow my hair out. I’ve had the same hairstyle since she’s been cutting my hair, and god knows the poor woman is probably bored to death with me. She ended up cutting two inches off the back and sides of my hair (Fred’s going to come home and say "It looks shorter. I thought you were going to let it grow!" He’ll never believe me when I explain that to grow your hair out, you have to keep cutting it until all the layers have caught up). And then she blew it out straight, which I will just NEVER get the hang of. How is it that they can do magical things to your hair in the beauty salon that you can never duplicate at home? Maybe it has something to do with the 45 tons of hairstyling goop she put in my hair, ya think? How cool is it that they’re running the first show of Survivor 2 tomorrow night? I just may have to check it out again. Maybe this time I’ll remember more of their names. I wouldn’t count on it, though. So, I’ve been reading a huge backlog of magazines for about two weeks now, and I ran across this picture in either US or People, or possibly even Entertainment Weekly: mag scan
Any idea who that blonde in the middle is? I, personally, thought it was one of the Dixie Chicks. Fred knew at first glance who it was, though: Alexis Arquette. I don’t know about that Arquette family. And I’ll never understand how David Arquette got Courtney Cox to marry him. If he’s not the most annoying guy in Hollywood, I don’t know who is. So Fred and I were talking about one of his employees last week – Paul – and told me that he (Paul) told Fred that Sela Ward is on his list of 5 famous women he’s allowed to boink, should the opportunity ever arise. C’mon, you KNOW you’ve thought about it, so don’t sit there and look all disapproving. Naturally, I asked Fred who’d go on his list, and off the top of his head he came up with about 40 names (okay, slight exaggeration there). For the most part they were kinda freaky looking chicks – Debi Mazar, Fairuza Balk, and Heather Paige Kent. He also had Drew Barrymore (who is pretty cute, in my opinion) and Angelina Jolie on his list – though he only thought Angelina Jolie was "hot" in Hackers. The upside to hearing his list of boinkable women is that every time I see one of them on TV or in a magazine, I can point at them and say, in an exceedingly snotty voice, "Oh look, there’s your GIRL." The downside, of course, is that either I look freaky like the women on his list, or I look nothing like them at all – I’m not sure which I’d prefer. Sadly, the only names I could come up with for my list were Jack Black and Matthew Perry. Sarcastic funny guys – yeah, they’ve got NOTHING in common with my husband, do they? Oh, I just thought of someone else – Denis Leary. Hubba hubba! As we were talking about our lists, all I could think of was the Friends episode when Ross came up with his list. He ended up bumping Isabella Rossellini for someone else at the suggestion of either Chandler or Joey, their reasoning being that he was less likely to ever run into her because she was an international star and from Italy (?). At the end of the show, he saw her in Central Perk, and Rachel encouraged him to approach her, saying that she (Rachel) would consider it a freebie. Ross walked up to her, showed her his card listing his five women, and explained the deal to her. She looked at the card and said "But my name isn’t on here." Ross said "Oh, it’s not a final list!" She looked at it, front and back, and said "But it’s lam-ee-nay-ted!" Every time I hear the word "laminated", I hear her saying "lam-ee-nay-ted!" I have a sad, pathetic life, don’t I? Why must I carry that entire plot around in my brain? Well, here’s another one. Whenever I hear the word "familiar", I think of the scene in Parenthood where Martha Plimpton has told Dianne Wiest, who just got home with her date, Paul Linke (who coincidentally played Officer Grossman on CHiPs, the finest series ever aired)(aside from The Brady Bunch, that is)(I was going to marry Jon, after Donny Osmond got married and broke my heart) that she (Martha Plimpton) is pregnant. Dianne Wiest pours a drink and says, more to herself than to her date, "I’m too young to be a grandmother! I was at Woodstock!" He says "You were at Woodstock? I was at Woodstock!", and she looks at him and says "I THOUGHT you looked fer-MILL-yer!" I hear "fer-MILL-yer!" every single time someone says "familiar." "Jesus christ, she’s recounting plot points from TV shows and movies! What’s she going to do next, describe her dryer lint in excruciating detail?" Thank you! Thankyaverramuch, ladies and germs! I’ll be here all week! —–]]>

01/29/2001

by @ Monday, January 29th, 2001. Filed under Life

01/26/2001

by @ Friday, January 26th, 2001. Filed under Life

this link. Go check it out, and if the cat isn’t in his bed, go check out the gallery. What an adorable cat – I have one of his pictures set as my wallpaper, and every time I look at it I grin. But don’t tell Miz Poo I’m admiring another cat, please… Speaking of Miz Poo, we had the back door open yesterday while we were eating dinner, and when it got rather cold, I shut the door. All the cats were inside except for her, and she always runs away when you go out to make her come inside, so I figured I’d leave the door closed and check on her in about ten minutes, sure that she’d want to come in. Naturally, I completely forgot she was even out there. Two hours later, Fred opened the door to go outside, and she shot through the doorway, her eyes big and dark with the horror of it all. No doubt she thought she’d be spending the night out there, or perhaps the rest of her life. After bitching about it for a few minutes, she settled down for a long nap, none the worse for wear. I’m always accidentally leaving someone out there – Spot spent an entire night out there in the summer, and Tubby has spent many an hour out there. They’re all still alive, so don’t feel too sorry for them. I’m off to sit on my lazy ass and read, so y’all have a good weekend! —–]]>

01/25/2001

by @ Thursday, January 25th, 2001. Filed under Life

01/24/2001

by @ Wednesday, January 24th, 2001. Filed under Life

knows better. Lucky for her I’ve calmed down to a growling grumpiness, or it wouldn’t be a very good time to be the spud. Before I go be grumpy in the other room, preferably under a quilt with a good book, let me share the latest Miz Poo picture with y’all. what the...?
She was sitting at the top of the stairs, looking down to see what I was doing. Looking at this picture almost makes me not grumpy. Almost, I say. Now pardon me while I go lay on the bed and be grumpy with my husband, then grumpily watch Oprah, and possibly later I’ll send a grumpy email to Miz Moira (yes, you!). Hmph. —–]]>

01/23/2001

by @ Tuesday, January 23rd, 2001. Filed under Life

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01/19/2001

by @ Friday, January 19th, 2001. Filed under Life


"For the love of god, woman, can’t I take a freakin’ nap without you flashing that bright fucking light at me??" —–]]>

01/18/2001

by @ Thursday, January 18th, 2001. Filed under Life

really huge dark-red sweatshirt, my usual black cotton pants, and on my feet were the cornflower blue slippers I ordered from Land’s End back in November. I’m quite the stylin’ bitchypoo, I really am. Did y’all watch Temptation Island last night? Oh, you couldn’t’ve dragged me away from the tube if you’d tried. I don’t know why I like the show so much, ’cause it got me really pissed both times it’s been on. I know there’s a couple who’s going to be kicked off the island sometime soon because they have a kid together and lied about it to the producers, but I don’t know which couple it is. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s Ytossi and Taheed (is that his name?). I honestly have no idea why on earth this couple is together. Every time she talks about him, all she says is what an asshole he is, and how he’s screwed around on her, and that he likes to make people think he’s a nice guy, when he’s really a jerk. They don’t seem to even like each other, and so I’d say the only thing keeping them together is a kid. Oh, and EXCUSE ME, but did you see the guy who proclaimed himself a "leg guy"? And he said that the chick he was on a "date" with had, on a scale of 1 to 10, 8.5 or 9 legs, and his GIRLFRIEND was "right behind her." Man, what an asshole. The whole bunch of them are dumbasses, now that I think about it. Is it just me, or is talking shit about the person you supposedly love a major betrayal? I mean, it’s one thing to tell your best friend what a jerk your partner was last night ’cause he did blah blah blah, but it’s another thing entirely to tell everyone you see that he’s a two-faced asshole, or that her legs come up short (so to speak) when compared to someone else’s legs. I predict that Ytossi and Taheed won’t end up together, and Mandy (is it just me, or is she a tad freakish looking?) and Billy won’t, either. You heard it here first, oh yes. Later. Okay, I’m back from my doctor appointment. As usual, it was better than I’d feared and worse than I’d hoped, if that makes any sense. I think the worst part of the whole thing was sitting in the examining room completely naked under a kicky pink paper top and a white paper drape on my lap, waiting for the doctor to come in. Oh, wait. I guess the worst part was actually the rectal exam. Shudder. At least I don’t have to go back for another year! So, someone out there sent me Mary Karr’s Cherry, which I received via UPS yesterday. There was nothing on the invoice to indicate who it was from, or a card or anything. Whoever it was, I’d like to say thanks. So, thanks! You rock, you know, and I can’t wait to read it! —–]]>

01/17/2001

by @ Wednesday, January 17th, 2001. Filed under Life

BUT, as Fred pointed out, when you turn it just a bit, what do you find? This: book club I was being subjected to porn without realizing it! Can you believe this? How many catalogs are out there, perverting the minds of innocent, unsuspecting people? I’m thinking of suing. (Kidding) While I was at Wal-Mart yesterday, I picked up three sweater driers, because the spud got a bunch of sweaters for Christmas, and some that Fred bought from ebay at a wicked bargain price, and as y’all know, when you wash sweaters, you can’t hang them up to dry, ’cause they’ll stretch out of shape. So, I bought these driers, which basically are a screen-type material on a rack with short little legs. You put the sweaters on the racks, which are stackable, and air can get to all parts of the sweater and it dries rather quickly. With me so far? So I got the sweater driers set up yesterday, with a sweater on each, and stacked them in the corner of the computer room, out of the way. Not ten minutes later, Miz Poo was sniffing around the stacked sweater driers, and not two minutes after that, she’d made herself at home on the top one. She stayed there most of the evening, purring loudly as she snoozed. Did I get a picture? Need you ask? miz poo on the sweater rack This would be when Fred was poking the underside of the sweater drier, driving Miz Poo crazy. I would have gotten a short movie of it, except that it was really too dark, even with the light on. That Miz Poo, she’s a cutie-pie, yes? Maaaaan, I have to go to the gynecologist’s tomorrow for my yearly torture. At least I can impress them with my 80-pound weight loss, though Dr. N is a plain-spoken woman and I’m afraid she might look me over and say "You may have lost a lot of weight, but you’re still a fat-ass!" You know, if I didn’t need those birth control pills so much, I’d probably NEVER go. I bitch and complain about how they’re not available over the counter (yet!), but it’s the only thing that gets my ass in that office every year. Or maybe it’s those attractive paper gowns.
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