2003-07-18

Crazy Cat Ladies Society. You bet your ass I’ll be requesting one of those shirts for Christmas. Speaking of shirts, have you bought your Tubby shirt yet? Sundry did. If you bought a Tubby shirt, take a picture of yourself in it (or if you bought something else, take a picture of yourself holding it), and send me the link. Or the picture, and I’ll post it. Heh. I could put up a separate page and call it “Tubby Lovers.” Bet that would get me some interesting Google hits.

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I watched the Affleck/ Lopez interview last night before bed. As I watched, I thought to myself “You know, maybe he really doesn’t have such a big head…” and then they showed him next to Jennifer Lopez and holy COW the man has a humongous noggin. If I were Jennifer Lopez, I would be VERY frightened at the thought of birthing an Affleck baby, if noggins like that run in the family. “Noggin” is a funny word, no? Anyway, it’s not like there was any exciting, shocking information disclosed during the interview (she does the cooking, he doesn’t do the dishes, she loves being “the caretaker”, he wears the pants), but it was interesting to see the two of them together. She was a giggling fool, but she seems to have stopped with the constant and annoying “Y’know what I mean?” which was so apparent in the Diane Sawyer interview. Ben Affleck referring to Matt Damon as “A weepy, weepy man” cracked me up.
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I have a bunch of reader questions that I haven’t answered and they’ve been sitting in my “questions” folder for months and months (I did answer a few of the health/ weight related questions in my diet journal a few days ago; you might be interested in those). Reader Pauleen asks: You and Fred seem to have the best relationship. I wish my husband and I were as “friendly” as you guys. Anyway, I was wondering whether you and Fred ever argue. Is there anything about him that really gets on your nerves (and vice versa)? We bicker from time to time, but we rarely actually argue. There are little things about him that get on my nerves and vice versa, but if I could change one thing about him, it would be the farting. He’d probably say the same about me.
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Reader Aly asks: How did you come to the decision to publish a public journal – not only this one, but also your OFB chronicling your weight loss efforts? [snip] I was wondering what made you want to go public. You and Fred both go to great lengths (and I’m glad you do) to protect the obvious personal information in your lives, like address and phone number, but you’re so open and honest in your journals about other aspects of your lives. Y’know, that’s a good question. I know that I had been reading other journals for at least a year, and talked about starting my own for probably 6 months before I finally sucked it up and bought the domain. I can’t say for sure what made me want to start my own journal – I think that a large part of it was seeing whether I could come up with something to write about several days a week, and I actually wrote almost every day for the first few months before going to a Monday – Friday schedule. What made me start my own diet journal was that I was simply afraid that diet-and-exercise talk in the regular journal would bore the hell out of people, so I pretty much split that part of my life off into another journal. As far as being open and honest in our journals, I do have to say that it’s always easier to be open and honest when you’re sure that no one you know in real life is reading. I’ve had to go back through my archives at least three times to delete stuff, unfortunately. Once when I discovered that a member of Fred’s family was reading his journal, once when someone Fred works with discovered his journal, and once when a member of my family (other than my sister Debbie, to whom I gave my url years ago) emailed to claim that they’d found my site by searching on their name (which is impossible, since I never used their full name anywhere on my site). At this point, though, I’m of the “fuck it if they don’t like it” attitude and I won’t be removing anything else from my journal. Hm. Did that answer the question? Let me know if it didn’t, Aly!
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Reader Lindsey asks: How did your cats get their nicknames, specifically Miz Poo? I have no idea how Miz Poo got her nickname, although it probably started with baby talk along the lines of “She’s a little pootie-pie, isn’t she? Oooooh, such a pootiepootiepootie! That’s MIZ Pootiepoo to you!” and so on. Yes, I’m a dork. Spot doesn’t really have a nickname, although Fred calls him “Buhhhdy” sometimes if Spot’s being particularly friendly (“friendly” for Spot includes not screaming and running for cover if you twitch your foot in his direction). It’s fairly obvious where Tubby got his nickname, I think, although I think it can be pinpointed to me saying something along the lines of “Get your tubby ass out of my way!” to him (Why must cats always walk 6 inches in front of you and then suddenly stop with no warning? Why?). Spanky is usually called “Boodie-boo”, which also came from baby talk (this time from Fred, who would say “Who’s a boodie-boo? Who’s a boodie-boo?!” to Spanky when he was little). We also call him Gomer because Spanky’s got a total “Duh?!” look on his face 99% of the time. And lastly, Fancypants. I remember this, because I’m the one who came up with the nickname. We were laying in bed one night talking about Fancypants, who was swishing and prancing across the end of the bed, meowing his sad, high-pitched meow. “He’s such a sassy thing!” Fred said. “Look at him!” “He’s a Fancypants,” I said, and Fred responded by laughing long and loud, and deciding that that was the perfect name for him.
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Reader KAPD asks: Just wondering how long you’ve worn contacts, I’ve considered them, and just curious about your level of prescription? I got my first pair of contacts when I was 13. They were wickedly expensive – maybe $75 or more per lens? – and the first time I had to take them out myself, it took me about an hour, because the thought of touching my eyeball freaked me out. Still does, actually. Though sometimes they can be a pain in the ass (“Then you’re putting them in the wrong place, Robyn! Haha!”), I much prefer them over my glasses. And since I know nothing about how to read a prescription, this is what mine looks like (why did I blur my name? I have no idea. It seemed like a good idea at the time):
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Reader J asks: What do you do with your flock of kitties when you go away on vacation??? I just got ours back from a boarding facility – I think they hated it, I worried, etc. Usually, we have Fred’s father come and feed/ scoop a couple of times (depending on how long we’ll be gone), and it usually works out pretty well. They check to be sure all the cats are present and accounted for, and we know that if the house has burned down or been broken into they’ll give us a call. When we went on vacation last Fall, we hired a girl who worked at our vet’s office to stop by and do the feeding/ scooping for $10 a day, not because Fred’s father and stepmother don’t do a perfectly good job but because it’s a bit of a trek for them to come from their house to ours. Unfortunately, the girl doesn’t work at the vet’s office anymore, and we don’t know how to get in touch with her, so we’re back to asking Fred’s dad to do it. Have a burning question? Ask!
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This picture reminds me of the part in Casino when De Niro does the The dealers are watching the players. The box men are watching the dealers. The floor men are watching the box men. The pit bosses are watching the floor men. The shift bosses are watching the pit bosses. The casino manager is watching the shift bosses. I’m watching the casino manager. And the eye-in-the-sky is watching us all. voiceover. The Momma is watching The Poo. The Poo is watching The Tubs. The Tubs is watching The Bird…. ]]>