2003-04-17

* * * Yesterday, Fred and I were discussing where to open a business checking account. He was for Regions Bank, and I was pushing for AmSouth. I will always love AmSouth, because their customer service is head and shoulders above any other bank I’ve dealt with since I’ve lived here – any bank I’ve ever dealt with, period, except for our credit union – and in my opinion, really good customer service is worth the extra few dollars a month. And since I’ll be dealing with making deposits and such, I won. Whee!

* * * Fancypants spent yet another night out last night. When Fred went to bed, he told me that Fancypants was hanging out on the patio in one of the chairs. I was instructed to “talk sweet” to Fancypants, and he’d let me pick him up and carry him inside. “Talk sweet” as opposed to yelling “Fancypants, get your ass in here!”, I guess, which is what I usually do. Heh. When I was done checking email and looking at forums, I got up from the computer and went out back. “Helloooooo, Fancypants! Hey, buddy, whatchoo doin’?” I said in my special Fancypants voice. He responded by hopping down off the chair and stretching. He let out a special, trilling, Fancy meow. I moved closer, continuing with the “Oh, such a Faaaaancy boy, yes you are!” He swaggered around, swishing his tail and purring loudly. I bent down to pick him up, and somehow he levitated from where he was to the middle of the back yard. I called out to him again, and he ran to the edge of the yard and jumped to the top of the fence then disappeared. Bastard. I came back inside and went to bed, and I hoped that it would rain, and the little shit would get soaked. But it didn’t and he wasn’t, because he’s a bastard. * * * When we were in Decatur Saturday, walking around the Founder’s Day Festival, we saw this little car and I had to take a picture. I think it’s an Austin Healy, and it was so tiny that I just wanted to stick it in my pocket and take it home. Seriously, I think it would have just about fit in the back of our Jeep. Sometimes laying on the desk, snuggled up against me, isn’t enough for Miz Poo. So she climbs up on my shoulder and then flops over (just assuming I’ll catch her – and I always do) and just lays there until my arm starts to hurt and I make her get down. Is she the most pampered cat in the entire world, or what? She is definitely back to her old self, though maybe a little more irritable. She was laying on the bed next to Fred last night, and Tubby jumped up on the end of the bed. She spent the next several minutes hissing hysterically and growling at him until he decided he’d had enough and jumped back down (Tubby, that is. Not Fred). Another picture from our trip on Saturday. I have no idea why, but the name of the restaurant just cracks me up. Probably because it makes me think of Randy “Dawg” Jackson. Tubs in the sun. The way he spreads the toes on his back feet is mighty cute, isn’t it? Tubby and Miz Poo. Sitting in the sun! Looking at the forbidden front yard!]]>