Those motherfuckers at Yahoo have, well, go read this, and if you’ve got a Yahoo id, follow the instructions. I went and looked at my information and was THRILLED, let me tell you, to find my home address listed (though I guess you can’t really see the information in another person’s Yahoo profile). I also switched my email address to my hotmail email address. If you don’t have a crap email address, you ought to go sign up for one with hotmail or yahoo or any of those free email services that you can use if you place online orders or register for anything, to reduce the spam that comes in to your primary email.

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We were watching the end of Survivor last night (MAN, I can’t believe they voted that person off. Damn it!) and during the commercial break after the vote and before the scenes from next week’s show, Fred got the camera and went out to take a picture of the full moon

OH! I guess maybe that’s why the cats are acting like total freaks these past few days – not only is it heavily hormonal around here right now (ie, THAT time o’ the month), but it’s also a full moon. That always makes ’em act twice as crazy.

                                                        and as he opened the door, something went running away from the patio. He turned and told me he’d startled a skunk, who ran across the yard and hid under the shed. I came out to check it out, and as I was peering across the yard toward the shed, Fred pointed toward the fence and said "There’s something on the fence!" It was a cat, and we deduced that it was unlikely there’d have been both a cat and a skunk in the back yard at the same time, so probably what he’d thought was a skunk was more likely a second cat. We went back in (to find that we’d missed the damn previews) and Fred wandered off to take more pictures of the moon. We settled in to watch The Shield, which I taped Tuesday night, and about halfway through the show, I thought I heard the sound of a cat meowing. I paused the tape, and we listened. It appeared to be coming from outside, so we went to check it out.

It was the same two cats, and they ran halfway across the yard, then turned to watch us. There was a gray one, which we’ve seen in our yard before, and a long-haired tortoiseshell. The tortoiseshell was making those growling, hissing, I’m-in-heat-do-me sounds (I’ve never actually had a cat who was in heat, but I know the sounds of "do me, you bastard" in cat language, for some reason). We called and called to them – I don’t know why we thought they would come over to be petted, they obviously had more important things to do – and finally Fred walked toward them, and they jumped the fence into the neighboring yard to howl and hiss and have hot kitty sex.

I think they were attracted to our back yard because I keep a bowl of dog food on the patio. Last Fall, when we were briefly dog owners, I noticed that the birds liked to eat the dog food we left out there for the dog, so even after there was no dog to eat the food, I kept the dish filled for the birds.

Don’t look at me like that.

Well, apparently not only do the birds like it, but the neighborhood cats do, because I just filled up the bowl (I’ve switched to the cheapie dog food) Tuesday, and this morning it was mostly gone. Doing my part to nourish the neighborhood kitties, yes indeedy.

I was teasing Fred last night for not being the particularly complimentary type, and thus when I went to sleep, I dreamed that he said "Bessie, you’re almost as pretty as -" and then he compared me to someone famous, but I can’t remember who. When he woke me up to help give Spanky his medication, I told him about it, and then gave him a mock-dirty look.

"Well, it COULD have been a compliment!" he said teasingly. "For instance, if I said you were almost as pretty as Phyllis Diller, that would be one thing. But if I said you were almost as pretty as Cindy Crawford or Sean Young, that would be another!" And he smirked at me, the joke being that he LOATHES Cindy Crawford and Sean Young and thinks they’re the most hideous creatures to walk the face of the earth.


Friday Five:

1. If you could eat dinner with and “get to know” one famous person (living or dead), who would you choose? Okay, this is going to sound cheesy as hell, but y’all know I’m just about the nosiest person alive, right? With the caveat that he’d have to answer every question I asked truthfully and completely (it sounds like I’m implying he’d lie, doesn’t it? I swear, I’m not!), I’d want to dine with Jesus, so I could pump him for information about how everything truly happened and how he felt every step of the way. See, the thing is that the bible was written by men – it’s not like the hand of god came down and scribbled the whole thing personally, so how likely is it that the whole life, death, and resurrection of christ is correct in every detail? Not likely, I think.

(Close your email clients, because I don’t want to hear that I’m going to hell.)

Failing that, I’m not sure who I’d choose to have dinner with. I’d say Stephen King, but I think I’d just sit there and go "Heh. Heh. Where do you get your ideas? Heh. Heh. You write good books. Heh."

2. Has the death of a famous person ever had an effect on you? Who was it and how did you feel? Another cheesy answer coming up. I was really freaked out by Kurt Cobain’s death. Not because I thought he was a particular genius – I wasn’t much of a Nirvana fan, really – but because he was so young and had such a young child and wife, and to me (though it shouldn’t have been) it was a real surprise.

The thing is that I’ve been really lucky and never suffered from any type of depression more serious than a day or two of the blues. At my lowest, I’ve always known that things would eventually get better. When someone feels that life is too full of pain to go on, it confuses me, because I can’t really understand it. Which is to say, I understand THAT people feel that way, but I’ve never felt it myself, so I can’t relate.

Also, I was stunned by the death of Princess Diana, because it was so unexpected and I loved her so much when I was growing up. Hell, I actually HAD a Diana ‘do when I was a kid, and I spent the entire day watching the wedding on TV when she married Charles. It seemed like maybe her life was starting to come together for real when she died. I had no idea she’d even been in an accident until I came out to the dining room table and glanced at the cover of the Sunday paper. I gasped "Oh my god!", and Fred came running to see what was going on.

3. If you could BE a famous person for 24 hours, who would you choose? Someone with an awesome body and a great singing voice. Sara Evans. Sarah McLaughlan. Martina McBride. I’d say Madonna, but honestly? She scares the bejeezus out of me.

4. Do people ever tell you that you look like someone famous? Who? I’ve been told I resemble Rosie O’Donnell, thank you. Could be worse, could be Phyllis Diller, right? Really, though I’d much prefer to be told I strongly resemble some sex goddess like Michelle Pfeiffer, I’ve always thought Rosie was pretty cute, so I’m not complaining.

5. Have you ever met anyone famous? I met Stephen King when I was 14 or so – he was signing books at a theater in Lewiston where one of his movies (I want to say Cujo, but I don’t think that was it) was premiering, and I was absolutely tongue-tied. My mother had to step forward and tell him how to spell my name. I also saw him many years later after t he Rock Bottom Remainders played in Portland (and Dave Barry as well.

Other brushes with celebrity – I saw Tim Burton and Lisa Marie at the baggage claim in the LA airport the second time I flew out there to visit the (ex) in-laws. I recognized him and knew who he was (this was after Batman, but before Edward Scissorhands), but when I pointed him out to the in-laws, they hadn’t a clue.

I also saw Jean Smart with her kid at Disneyland during the same visit.

Hey, check out this cool picture of the moon Fred took yesterday morning:

Have a great weekend, and happy Easter (if you celebrate it), y’all!