The Fancypants, as you may have noticed is a long-haired kitty, and not only is he a long-haired kitty, but he also spends a lot of time outside. He’s always had several matted places on his side and back, but after he recently got wet, it got worse and the mats were impossible to brush out. We thought about it for a while, Fred called around to different places, and finally we decided to go for it and have him shaved. He’s his usual Fancy self. He’s always been pretty laid-back, so this didn’t bother him too much. The other cats, though, have been pretty freaked out. Miz Poo and Spanky, in particular, have been sniffing at him and then hissing. It’s as if they’re thinking “He SMELLS like the Fancy one, but he just doesn’t LOOK right!” We’re going to get into a regular grooming schedule with him, so hopefully this won’t have to happen again. He’s awfully funny to look at, though. He moves like he always did, and it’s funny as hell to see a big, fluffy tail swishing back and forth, and a big fluffy head, with a skinny little body in between. Poor Fancypants!

So, as I mentioned in the little blurb I put up yesterday, I didn’t update yesterday because I was in a great amount of pain. After taking six months off from lifting weights (dumbass!), I lifted upper body weights again on Saturday, and woke up with every muscle screaming on Sunday. I tried Tylenol, aspirin, and ibuprofen, and nothing took away the pain. Sunday night I said to Fred, “At least this is the worst of it!” Wrong-o. I woke up yesterday morning wishing someone would put me out of my misery, and I ended up spending most of the day on the couch, moving my arms and shoulders (and chest) as little as possible. Last night, I took a narcotic pain-reliever left over from Fred’s surgery about a year ago (and yes, I know you’re not supposed to do that, but I already did it, so don’t give me shit about it. Y’all would have done it too, trust me.) both to get rid of the pain and to help me sleep. I slept like a rock, but even after sleeping until 10 (with some time spent awake in front of the TV once the tornado sirens woke me up) I’m kind of groggy today. But the pain is much, MUCH less than it was yesterday, thankyajesus. I was even able to haul my ass out to the garage and ride the bike for 20 minutes, so all is good.
From the most recent Entertainment Weekly: Madonna: The new kabbalah-inspired kids’ author told VH1, “Now I’m starting to read to my son, but I couldn’t believe how vapid and vacant and empty all the stories were. There were like no lessons… There’s like no books about anything.” If that ain’t the pot, like, calling the kettle black, I don’t know what is.
On Sunday we went to a huge cemetery in Huntsville – Maple Hill Cemetery, if you’re local – and spent about an hour walking around taking pictures. Fred’s going to put the bulk of the pictures up in an entry today or tomorrow, but I called dibs on a couple of them. We’re waiting for you, Nance! Obviously, as I told Fred, a sign that I should be buried at Maple Hill! I’ve always said that when I die, I want to be cremated and have my ashes scattered over the ocean off the coast of Maine. I didn’t want to think about my body moldering in a casket six feet under the ground for eternity once my soul was gone. But after walking through the cemetery and seeing graves for people who died over 100 years ago, I’ve come to think that there’s really something awe-inspiring about the fact that years and years after these people have died, when everyone whose lives they touched are gone as well, there’s a small plot of land dedicated solely to them, a plot of land that will be there for years and years to come.]]>