Month: May 2004

* * * So, ever since we spent 12 hours driving to Memphis, hanging around Memphis, and then driving home from Memphis the week before last, we’ve really REALLY not been looking forward to making the 4 1/2 – 5 hour drive to Gatlinburg. We bitched and moaned about how long the drive would be, we talked about staying home (but not seriously), and then on Tuesday Fred said “I’m kind of looking forward to the drive. It’ll be fun!” But come Wednesday morning he called me from work and said “God. I do NOT want to drive for five hours tomorrow. Wah!” “Baby,” I said. “We are not canceling our vacation! No other place on earth can provide me with the high levels of sugar that are contained within the boundaries of the Gatlinburg/ Pigeon Forge area! We are GOING, so quit your bitching!” But Fred, he is a resourceful person and he came up with a way to get to Gatlinburg fast. Very very fast. Like, in a little more than an hour. And it didn’t even require a transporter machine! It’s a Dakota Piper. Fred is one of three owners of his company. One of the other owners – longtime readers will remember the man known as “Tex” – has his pilot’s license, and he’s not only visually rated, he’s also instrument rated and a whole bunch of other ratings that mean nothing to me. He actually teaches other people to fly. He’s flown 800 hours in the last year and had nary a single scary incident. AND he owns a small plane with two other guys. “Think of it!” Fred said. “We can leave the house at 8:00, and we’ll be in Gatlinburg by 10:00! We’ll have the whole day, and all day Friday, and all day Saturday, and then he can pick us up on Sunday!” Because I am a brave soul and because I have no desire to spend five hours in a car when I can spend one hour in a plane, I agreed. (I didn’t tell y’all I was flying because I knew you’d worry. Aren’t I sweet? Also, I knew you’d tell me horror stories about your aunt’s brother’s nephew’s cousin’s sixth cousin once removed who knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy who flew a small plane directly upwards into the sun, and the plane melted and fell apart and the guy who was flying the plane ALMOST DIED!) We left the house at 8:00, got to the tiny little airport near Decatur, and were taking off around 8:30ish. Tex on the left, Fred on the right. Fred was the “copilot”, and promised to scream for help if Tex keeled over and had a heart attack. The runway. The Tennessee River, on the other side of that line of trees. You can’t really see it, but believe me – it’s there! Passing through the clouds. Fluffy clouds. Hey, look! Clouds! The horizon (and more clouds). Mountains… and traffic and houses and stores, oh my! We did a sudden sharp turn when we were about to land at the Gatlinburg/ Pigeon Forge airport (which is actually located in Sevierville) and it felt like the wing was about to touch these houses. Heading for the runway. All in all, it was a pretty cool experience. It was like being in a flying SUV. I sat in the back seat, and had plenty of leg room (though, granted, I have short, stubby legs). There was a storage area behind me where we put our luggage. It was pretty smooth flying most of the way, though we went through a couple of big clouds that were bumpy. Rather than being scared, I laughed my ass off – it was like being on a roller coaster. I was honestly not scared for one minute of the flight. And I think we’ve been spoiled rotten – I don’t ever want to have to drive to Gatlinburg again! Once we were at the airport, we got our luggage and our rental car (yes, that’s money we wouldn’t have had to spend if we’d driven, but we decided our time was worth it – and then some!) and were headed for Gatlinburg in no time. Two hours after we’d left the house, we were ordering lunch. An hour and a half after that, we checked into our hotel room (they let us check in early), and we headed downtown to do some looking around. We spent an hour or so in the aquarium (I took a buttload of pictures, which I will put up at some later date). We bought some coffee, we looked in a few stores, and after a few hours, we headed back to our hotel room, but not before stopping for… Fudge! Oh, I almost forgot! We were looking through one of the many many t-shirt stores that Gatlinburg has, and Fred poked me. When I looked at him, he nodded toward the back of the store, where there was an airbrushing booth. Leaning on the counter of the booth were two girls. One of them was wearing a skirt so short that had she been standing straight up might have just covered her ass. But she wasn’t standing straight up – she was leaning forward on the counter, as I mentioned. And her bare ass was sticking out for the world to see. She MIGHT have been wearing a thong, but I couldn’t tell for certain. I swear, I felt like I was seeing live porn right there in front of me. I have no idea how old she was, either – everyone under the age of 30 looks like they’re about 12 to me now. I guess that’s one of the signs that I’m getting old, eh? Friday we walked back down into Gatlinburg, stopped in almost every store, and then went to the Ripley’s Moving Theater, because they had new movies this year. This is a ride where you get 3-D glasses, and you go strap yourself into a seat. When the movie starts, your seat moves as though you’re on a roller coaster, or whatever the movie is showing. It’s usually pretty cool, but this time around both the movies were particularly violent, and when I woke up Saturday morning I had bruises on my thighs and arms from being thrown around. I hated it, but Fred loved it. Go figure. We ate lunch at Blaine’s (we always eat there at least once – Fred loves their steak fajitas), then spent another couple of hours walking around downtown before heading back to the hotel with our purchases. Fred ran our bags up to the room while I started the car, and then we went to Pigeon Forge for a few hours before going back to the room and hanging out for the rest of the evening. Saturday was more of the same – shopping, people-watching, eating lunch at The Alamo. We had talked about going on a hike, but since it rained Friday figured it would be rather muddy to go hiking, and opted not to. Sunday morning Fred woke up to find that it was raining like hell. He called Tex to see if we’d still be able to fly home. Tex checked the something-or-other and told Fred that it should be no problem. We showered and packed and ate the last of our fudge (okay, that would be ME), then checked out and headed to the airport to wait for Tex. Twenty minutes later, he was there, and we were loaded and on our way. The trip back was a lot less smooth than the trip there – it was very cloudy and we had to go through a large number of clouds, which was very very bumpy. I wasn’t worried, though, and we were home by 12:30ish. This is the first time we’ve been gone for a few days since we got Mister Boogers, and he was very VERY vocal in expressing his displeasure all afternoon yesterday. Fred went out into the garage to work out, and Mister Boogers sat by the garage door and howled and howled until I went to pick him up. He actually slept on the bed with me all last night, too. Which sucked a little, because he’s a total bed hog. Good thing he’s cute. “I SO don’t hog the bed. Much.” ]]>

my baby!!! There’ll be no birthday cake tonight, but we’ll make up for that in Gatlinburg, I’m sure.

* * * Warning: Mild Paycheck and The Sopranos spoilers in this section – it won’t ruin the movie or show for you, but it does give a little away. Proceed at your own risk. Speaking of Fred’s birthday, I think that Fred must have knocked something loose in his fall down the mountain last week. I swear, he’s aged 20 years in the last week. First of all we were at The Rockabilly Cafe eating lunch when we were in Memphis last week. A woman walked in and looked around, and then said to us, “Do we seat ourselves?” I started to answer her, when I realized to my horror that Fred was leaning forward, CUPPING HIS HAND TO HIS EAR to illustrate that he hadn’t heard what she said. Who does that? Aren’t you legally required to be at least 73 before you can complete that particular move without being ironic? Secondly, we were watching Paycheck Saturday night, and ten minutes after the bad guys see Uma in the bathroom first crying and then smiling, after Uma had left for work and then the bad guys were in the apartment trying to figure out what message Ben Affleck had left for Uma, AFTER the one bad guy said “Look at the mirror” and then sprayed something (hairspray?) on the mirror, Fred said “Ohhhh, he left her a message!” and I gave him a look and said “Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.” Which is when he challenged me with “What, you knew?” and I responded with “Yeah.” and he said “When did you figure it out?” and I said “As soon as she turned the shower on.” and he said “Oh”, making it clear that he’d had no idea at all until the bad guys discovered the message. Thirdly, Sunday night we were watching The Sopranos, and we watched the part where Chris-tuh-fuh was at the gas station and he saw the family in the crappy car, and like TEN MINUTES LATER, Fred said in a confiding I-don’t-want-to-ruin-this-for-you-but-I’ve-figured-it-out tone, “I think he saw the family and realized he didn’t want to live like that”, to which I could only respond, “No shit, babe, ya think??” So, yeah. Clearly he knocked something loose. That, or it’s early-onset Alzheimer’s. One or the other. * * * I spent the morning cleaning the hell out of the house, because Fred’s mother and stepfather are going to be feeding the cats while we’re in Gatlinburg. I moved the last few boxes of Fred’s book from the corner where they’re been sitting for ten months, and I found about 300 cat toys and ten pounds of dust. Our cats have WAY too many cat toys, that’s all I can say. We’d better buy them a few more when we’re in G’burg! * * * The And3rson family medical problems continue. Miz Poo, sitting on her pillow on my desk yesterday, held up her back paw to lick it, and I realized she had some weird kind of wound. It almost looked like she’d torn or chewed off one of her toe pads, but all her toe pads were present and accounted for, so that wasn’t it. It wasn’t hurting her, because she let me look at it to my heart’s content. After talking to Fred we finally decided that maybe she’d cut herself (Meester Boogers knocked a lightbulb off the counter last weekend, and Miz Poo immediately came running to investigate, so we figure that’s when it happened), and I tried to rinse the litter out of the wound, but had no luck. Fred took her to the vet’s around 5:00, and he cleaned it out (poor Miz Poo!) and examined it, and it was definitely a cut. Fred told him we were going out of town and wouldn’t be able to give her antibiotics over the 3 1/2 days we’d be gone, so the vet gave her a shot, told Fred to soak her foot in salt water a couple of times a day, and to put Polysporin on it. I swear, with the money we’ve spent on vet bills on Miz Poo alone, we could be living in a mansion. Good thing she’s so damn cute. * * * Since I share EVERYTHING with y’all, I am pleased to announce that after an entire month of breakthrough bleeding and a week of a semi-painful period, I appear to completely through with bleeding from the nether regions. Whoo! (Oh, hush. You KNOW you wanted to know!) * * * So we’re leaving for G’burg early in the morning. I may slap up a quick entry before we go, I may not. We’re taking the laptop with us and will have wireless internet access at our hotel, so I may post entries while we’re gone… and I may not. Who knows? I’ll see you when I see you – definitely by Monday. * * * Such a happy, happy boy. (Love the kitty toes!) ]]>

Nance!!!!

* * * So, the spud arrived safely in The OC yesterday. When we got to the airport, the guy working the ticket counter said that he could get her on an earlier flight to Atlanta so she’d have a little more time there and wouldn’t be rushing from gate to gate. We opted for that, so she ended up leaving on the 2:08 flight instead of the 2:45. After processing her ticket information, he handed over her ticket and a pass so that I could go to the gate with her, which is when I had to say “Um, wait. I thought I could pay so that she’d have someone take her from gate to gate?” The guy said “Oh, did you want to do that? You don’t have to, since she’s 15, she can just get from gate to gate on her own…” Which is when I had to look at him as though he were on drugs, because hell-O? Did he really think I was going to send my head-in-the-clouds 15 year old across the country without someone to hold her hand and tell her where to go? I think NOT. Anyway, I paid the $75 and we got through Security without being wanded (very VERY lax security, in my opinion. I could have TOTALLY gotten a pair of nail clippers through without them even noticing!), I bought her a few snacks for the plane, and we only had to wait about ten minutes before it was time for her to board the plane. Then I came home and spent the day worrying, of course. Her flight landed in Orange County at 9:26 my time (and according to Delta.com, it landed on time), but she didn’t call until almost midnight. Which is my own fault, I suppose. I told her several times to call when she got to California, but didn’t tell her to call as soon as she got in. But anyway she’s there, she’s fine, and now Fred and I can commence swanning about the house nude all the time. Woot! * * * I sure am MIGHTY FUCKING TIRED of going to the FUCKING doctor’s office all the damn time. The mole I had removed from my stomach last Thursday has been draining ever since. It started to look infected to me sometime on Saturday and BECAUSE I AM STUPID AND I KNOW IT AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO TELL ME BECAUSE I KNOW IT ALREADY, OKAY? I took the advice of SOMEONE and tried self-medicating with a lose dosage of Doxycycline, since it’s an antibiotic. It never did get worse, but it also never got better either, despite the Doxycycline and cleaning it with peroxide and putting Neosporin on it. Finally, since I wanted to get this taken care of before we leave for Gatlinburg, I decided to call this morning and they were able to get me in at 10:00. The nurse practitioner gave me QUITE a look when I told her that I had dumbassedly self-medicated, but I admitted that I’m a dumbass before she could say anything, so she didn’t have to TELL me what a dumbass I am. Anyway, she prescribed an antibiotic ointment and an antibiotic to take by mouth, so hopefully this will clear up pretty quickly. On the up side, my gastroenterologist called last night and said that all my bloodwork came back just fine – no autoimmune hepatitis, no lupus, no nothin’, so he’s pretty sure it’s a fatty liver. I have to go back in six months to have my liver enzymes checked again. Which is good, because I did a search on autoimmune hepatitis, and guess how they treat it? With steroids. No steroids for me! Yay! * * * Such a purty boy.]]>

there’s a pretty little thing waiting for the King down in the Jungle Room…) was awesome and I want me one o’ them. Everyone needs green shag carpeting on the ceiling! After the tour, we went back across the street so I could buy an Elvis shot glass (shaddup) and a few other things, then we went to eat lunch at the Rockabilly Cafe. We all had cheeseburgers and they weren’t bad. Fred also bought a fried nanner sandwich for us to share, and let me just say, yuck. Too much butter, too much peanut butter. It was gross, but the spud seemed to like it. (For those of you who have no idea what a fried nanner sandwich is – it’s a peanut butter and banana sandwich, fried like you’d fry a grilled cheese sandwich, only in a ton of butter. Elvis loved ’em, or so they say.) (Let us not mention the fact that my mother once made me a peanut butter, banana, and MAYO sandwich and amazingly it was REALLY GOOD (yes it was!). She told me it was another favorite of Elvis’.) Once we’d killed a couple of hours at Graceland and eating lunch, we still had time to kill (did I mention we went to Memphis because Fred’s mother had an all-day appointment at a hearing clinic?), so we went to Border’s and looked browsed for an hour or so. Then we went back to the hearing clinic to pick up Fred’s mom and had to wait for a little while, and like the idiot I am I didn’t bring a BOOK with me (it’s sad but true that I have a book with me when I don’t need one, and don’t have one when I do. Damnit.), but I did get to stare at this sign: Yes, it amuses me that they carry sushi at the gas station – though I’m one to talk, since I buy my sushi at TARGET. So I’ll shut up now. Anyway, we left at 6:20 am and got home at about 6:50 pm. It was a long damn drive with not much to look at and not one I’m eager to do again anytime soon! Fred’s got an entry with Graceland pictures, here. He’s also got a funny-ass entry for Sunday.

* * * The spud has been packed to leave for California since yesterday morning. It took her maybe fifteen minutes to pack and now she’s sitting in her room watching TV and impatiently waiting for it to be time to leave. It’s going to take her about 7 hours to get there, with a layover in Atlanta. She’s been flying alone since she was 10 years old, but I note that I don’t get any less worried about her flying alone the older she gets. At least when she flies from California to Rhode Island, she’ll be with her grandparents and I won’t have to worry. At least THIS year the Terror Alert hasn’t been raised… YET. * * * I got more funny cards in the mail from my awesome Secret Goddess – who happens to be Debbie – AND a hilarious comic strip. She’s absolutely spoiled me rotten these past two months, and she rocks! ]]>

1. So, how’s your day been? So far, so good. I’ve been up for about half an hour, showered, dressed, and we’re about to leave to take Fred’s mother to an all-day appointment at a clinic in Memphis. She won’t hear of us staying with her through her appointment, so we’re going to Graceland! 2. We all know how much you love yellow, but if you absolutely had to choose one, what would be your least favorite color and why? Drab olive, because I always have a visceral “GOD what an ugly color!” reaction to it. 3. Now, explain again why it is that you and Fred don’t share a bedroom? (Kidding! 🙂 Heh. Brat. But for any new readers who are interested in the answer, you can read it here. 4. Can I have one of your cats? I’ll let you pick. Ahem. You know, we still haven’t buried Tubby’s ashes… 5. You are hereby ordered to give up one of the shows you watch and write about over on Couch Potato. So which one is it gonna be? Why, why, WHYYYY, Heather, why would you cause me such pain? ::sob:: Heh. Actually, at this point I’d happily give up American Idol. I don’t really care who wins, since my favorite – Jennifer Hudson – left weeks ago. 6. If you had to work outside the home, what would your ideal job be? Something around cats, that kept me busy, and didn’t include spending the entire day at a desk. 7. You’ve been commissioned by Fred to create a soundtrack for his life, and you have a five song minimum. What songs do you pick? Birdhouse in My Soul (They Might Be Giants), Safety Dance (Men Without Hats), Steal my Sunshine (Len), Blue (Eiffel 65), Love Changes Everything (Andrew Lloyd Webber). 8. Are there any other animals besides cats that you could see yourself co-habitating with comfortably? What one non-domesticated animal would you love to have around? (Pretending it’s cleared for safety first and housing and food are no issue.) I’d like to say I could be happy with a dog, but I’m just really not a dog person. Dogs require too much attention. I’d love to have a big ol’ fish tank, and maybe some hamsters (they crack me up!), but that’s really about it. As for a non-domesticated animal? That’s easy – a meerkat! 9. Looking over your wishlist, which five books would you really like to have and what about them interested you in the first place? Like a Charm, by Karin Slaughter (I read her previous two books and really enjoyed them), Eventide, by Kent Haruf (Kent Haruf is just the most amazing writer. I’ve read everything else he’s written, and each of his books are simple gems that I absolutely love), The Enemy, by Lee Child (I have a little crush on Jack Reacher. He kicks ASS.), Down Here, by Andrew Vachss (I have a crush on Burke, too – is it weird to have a crush on fictional characters?), and Dead to the World, by Charlaine Harris (one in the Southern Vampires series, which I absolutely adore). 10. What’s Miz Poo doing right now? Snoozing on the pillow on my desk after an exhausting 20-minute grooming session. 11. What are your current short-term goals? Mostly to get the final four chapters that I have to write for Erin’s book done. To keep up with the Smart & Sassy questions as they come in. Mostly, to make it through today without going completely nuts.

* * * We’re off to Memphis. There may be an entry tomorrow – then again, there may not. Who knows? * * * When the Bean sees a bird out in the yard, he likes to stop halfway through the cat door and just stand there, chattering. “I can’t believe she put a picture of my ass on the internet…” ]]>

* * * Last night Fred and I were watching TV. We’d just finished watching our taped episodes of The Shield and That 70s Show, and were waiting to see who’d been voted off American Idol, and we hate all the filler they do (I can’t even believe they have the utter gall to stretch the results show to an hour), so Fred was flipping channels in search of something to fill the time until the result was announced. We ended up on poker, and you can imagine how thrilled I was. I got bored inside of 10 seconds, so I started reading a magazine. At some point I realized that a clicking noise was drilling through my eardrums and into my brain, and I looked up to see that one of the players was making the clicking noise with his chips. “I wish he’d stop doing that,” I said. “I think he’s nervous,” Fred said. “Some of the guys get really fidgety. And then there are the other guys, like the one with the cowboy hat on. Hoyt. He’s from Alabama.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah. He sits there with his hat on and dark glasses so you can’t see his eyes, and he doesn’t even move. He’s like a little Bubba. Uh. Buddha.” We laughed, and a few minutes later, Fred went on to say, “I had it right the first time, he’s like a Buddha! Uh. Bubba.” First day with the new brain, you know.

* * * My father sent this picture from Hawaii (I have no idea who those people are). I was a little excited about going to Hawaii in July before, but now I can’t wait! * * * “I am struck with the urge to raise my ass in the air, but I don’t know why…” ]]>

* * * From my comments: A comment from the youngest of 4 children. If I ever heard my Mom say “Thank God, it’s the last time I have to sit though __________” once I heard it fifty times. If I hear it again – I’ll scream! OK – I’m 38 so I doubt I’ll hear it again so don’t worry. It really put a damper on things in life. I let her know it – she did not listen. No wonder I was crabby when I graduated from high school! Last awards ceremony, last “sing out”, last graduation ceremony, last graduation party, last, last last. . . So moral of the story – Don’t let your kids hear you celebrate. Oh, we celebrate – but we celebrate when she’s not around. She thinks we’re thrilled to go to her concerts, and was very concerned about the fact that Fred wouldn’t be able to attend, so she made sure that I brought the camcorder with me. As we were walking into the school the night of the concert, I said “Are you sad that this is your last band concert?” and she said “NO. Band is kind of boring…” AMEN TO THAT, SISTER! Hey – in your previous entry you mentioned you found the earrings you were searching for – where did you find them? I love them too and would love a pair — Please tell me it was somewhere on-line and not a specialty store in your local mall… Actually, I didn’t find the ones I was looking for, but I did find some that I really like – these. I don’t know why I love earrings so much. I wear them maybe ten days out of the year, but I keep buying them! (Ooh, and I REALLY like these. Pretty, no?) Also, I’m kind of picky about the earrings I buy – for instance, I really like these, but I can’t wear earrings where the back is like that, because the end irritates the skin under my ear, so I have to have earrings with posts or lever backs. Fascinating, no? I totally got the song reference! “He’s Spot, he’s Spot, he’s Spot, he’s in his bed…” I haven’t heard that song (Presidents of the USA, right?) in forever. Also, AHEM. I’ve been going on and on and ON about “24” at my journal FOREVER. Just proof that you do not read, and therefore you MISS OUT. Missy. I never thought anyone would get that reference, because I could hear the tune in my head when I was typing it, but I didn’t really think it was going to come across. Never underestimate the readers! Also, I do SO read your journal. But you know how you read someone’s journal and they start talking about something you’re not interested in, so you’re like “Eh, yeah, 24. Whatever.”, and you skim that part? (I suspect many of my readers do that. Heh.) So I musta skimmed. And while I’ll read someone’s glowing review of a book and immediately add it to my wish list, for some reason if I’ve decided I’m not interested in a show, you can say the most amazing things about it – “And then Kiefer STRIPPED NAKED and monkeys flew DIRECTLY out of his ASS!” – and I’ll be all “Yeah, yeah.” And since Fred and I had watched the very first 24 when it was on TV and decided we weren’t interested, that was all she wrote. Because clearly we’re idiots. Speaking of TV, we were flipping channels last night and we happened across the WB, and it was the second episode of Superstar USA, and let me tell you something. That is the BEST SHOW EVER. It’s like American Idol, flipped. How the judges keep a straight face, I DO NOT KNOW. Because some of those people are just incredibly awful, and they keep coming with the praise. That Briggs guy, especially, is hilarious. It’s on again Friday night, so check it out! Definitely worth your time. (Heh. I wonder how many of you just went “Eh, Superstar USA. Whatever.” and skipped that paragraph.) Whoot! Sounds like your liver is on the right track, but I wonder – how do you get it to exercise? It won’t. You know how some people have a lazy eye? I have a lazy liver. It sits on the sidelines and mocks me when I’m on the elliptical. Stupid liver. All I can do is set a good example and hope it sinks in. Otherwise, it’s outta here.

* * * Good thing he’s pretty, ’cause he’s not the brightest bulb. ]]>

here.

* * * So, I saw the gastroenterologist today (and may I digress for a moment to say, those fuckers! They told me my appointment was at 8:30, so I show up 10 minutes early (to fill out the paperwork), and she tells me my appointment is actually at 9! Bastards! Luckily I had a book with me). I was less concerned about the idea that I’d find out something horrible, and more worried that he’d take one look at me, think “Oh, yeah. She’s fat. I’ll tell her to try diet and exercise!” and I was ready to rip off his head and shit down his throat – just ask Fred – but I worried for nothing. He was AWESOME. You know how sometimes a doctor will ask you questions and you answer them, but you get the feeling they’re not really paying attention, maybe thinking about their 2:00 tee time? Not this guy. He asked questions, he really listened to the answers, and he was just really a nice guy. (Come to find out he’s 5 days older than me. Ahhh, that explains it. Capricorns rock!) Anyway, he said that it could be something called autoimmune hepatitis and explained what it is. He doesn’t think it’s a strong possibility, since I haven’t had any of the symptoms, but he wanted to do bloodwork to rule out the possibility. He wanted to check a few other things but seemed to lean – not surprisingly – toward the idea that it was a fatty liver. Which is a benign condition, he told me, though it rarely turns into other things. Also, diet and exercise – “Stop right there!” I said. “Before you go any further!” And I got up and started dancing a jig as I sang more of the Meatloaf song, the lyrics of which escape me at this moment. “I’ve exercised 45 out of the last 46 days,” I said. “And I count calories. I’ve eaten between 1200 and 1500 calories a day for the last 46 days. Except for Friday, when I relax it a little. Also, I lost 125 pounds three years ago and have been at a standstill ever since.” He was impressed and what did he tell me? Why, he said “Keep up the good work!” BECAUSE I ROCK. Anyway. So they took three gallons of blood upon which they’re going to perform various and sundry tests. When he gets the results, he’s going to call me, and we’ll see where we’ll go from there. Oh! And YOU PEOPLE who keep bringing up LIVER BIOPSIES and scaring the SHIT out of me! (Because that sound PAINFUL!) He said that if all the tests came back negative, what he’d want to do is monitor my liver enzymes and if they get worse, THEN he’d want to do a liver biopsy. I think I lurve him. In a purely platonic doctor-patient way, of course. Though he did touch my knee when he was all excited about explaining exactly what the fatty liver thing is. Anyway, I’ll keep y’all apprised of what-all’s going on with me and my shadow liver’s fat ass. * * * Anyway. There were several amazingly brilliant and laugh-out-loud paragraphs right here, but in my haste to run to the bathroom and pee, I fucked something up and they disappeared into the ether, and I want to go to Sam’s now, so I’ll have to do my best to re-create them tomorrow. Sorry ’bout that. * * * An illustration of why Fred calls Miz Poo “Snaggletooth.” ]]>

* * * Oh, look. It must be a day that ends in “y.” I can only seem to connect to the Knology mail server about once an hour YET A-FUCKING-GAIN. Good thing we’re not paying way too much money for our internet – oh, wait! Yes we are! Fucking fuckers.

* * * The spud has a band concert tonight. She’s opted not to take band next year. Is my heart breaking? Why, no. No it’s not. I believe I’ll do a dance of joy at the idea of never having to attend another ear-shattering band concert. Of course, with my luck she’ll decide to take up cheerleading next year, and I’ll have to attend every last football game. Gah. * * * In the past few weeks, Fred and I have started taping and watching Nip/ Tuck – FX is showing reruns of the first season at various times, in preparation for Season 2, which starts in mid-June. I didn’t hold out much hope – I mean, a show about plastic surgeons? Snore. Turns out, it’s a pretty damn good show, though. And even if it wasn’t, being able to stare at Julian McMahon (Christian) for an hour is nothin’ to sneeze at. We also started watching Season One of 24. We rented the DVD with episodes 4 – 8 and watched them back-to-back Saturday night. That’s a damn fine show! How come none of you ever told me?! I wanted to go out and rent the next DVD after we’d watched those four shows, but Fred spouted off some crap about how we should savor each show like a fine wine, to which I maturely responded by making some obnoxious gagging noises. Lastly, I stayed up late last night to finish reading Wendy Shanker’s The Fat Girl’s Guide to Life. Good book! I highly recommend it, and I’m going to even keep my copy – and y’all know I NEVER keep my books, so that should tell you how much I liked it. * * * He’s Spot! He’s Spot! He’s Spot! He’s in his BED! ]]>

The Bachelor. I actually found a pair that I like even better than those on eBay, though, for $20! So thanks for offering, April and Lindsey, and I’ll keep you in mind for the future. And do you ever watch “Judging Amy”? Does Amy’s kid look like Spud or does she just look like she could be Robyn’s kid? I was wondering this last night. I might just be on crack though- because I was watching that lame-ass show to begin with. I don’t watch Judging Amy and didn’t know what the kid looked like, so I hit the CBS page to check it out. I don’t think she looks much like the spud, but she DOES look an awful lot like Lily’s youngest daughter on Once and Again. Cute kid, in any case. As the owner of a perpetually dandruffy cat, could you tell me the name of the oil that you got at the vet for Miz Poo? If I could clear up The Bug’s flakeage in a matter of days it would make everyone in my household so much happier. It’s called Derm Caps ES Liquid, and our bottle says “Extra strength for Medium and Large Breeds.” Should I be insulted that the vet is implying that Miz Poo is fat? ‘Cause she’s not fat. She’s just portly. Anyway, after almost a week of use, Miz Poo’s dandruff has almost completely gone away, and her coat has never been so soft and shiny. Oh, and even though we got it from our vet, I wouldn’t be surprised if you could get it in any petstore. I’m glad to hear that your liver looks o.k.! Does this mean that cancer has been ruled out??? I hope so!! It sucks having to deal with all these things at once, but the upside is that you won’t likely have to deal with any of this crap after the next week or so! It’s better than constantly going to the doctor every few months with something new! Trust me! 🙂 I think it probably has been ruled out, since my doctor didn’t see anything tumor-like on the ultrasound pictures, but I’m still going to be seeing the gastroenterologist next week so he can say for sure. I have a feeling it’s going to come down to being a fatty liver. Re: Seinfeld: Has anyone ever told you they reminded you of Elaine’s character? I’ve never met you, and yet you remind me of her (or, you remind me of a friend who reminds me of Elaine). I hope you don’t take that as an insult! Hell, Elaine’s the coolest one on that show! At least you didn’t say I remind you of George. Heh. But I’m only posting a comment to say that baby oil applied with a paper towel is really good for making stainless steel surfaces look their best. Try it! I did, and it does a great job! Thanks for the suggestion! Got a question? Leave it in the comments. Need advice? Visit Smart & Sassy!

* * * Chick Chat. 1. Should You Wear White After Labor Day? Strictly speaking, I understand you’re not supposed to, but I don’t know a lot of people who care about that particular rule anymore. Besides, I never ever ever wear white, anyway, so it’s moot for me. 2. Do You Wear Sandals w/ Socks (be honest)? Nope – but the spud wears socks with her Birkenstocks. Which I think is okay. 3. Panty Lines must be Avoiced at All Costs (T or F)? Nah, there are more important things to worry about. 4. Do You Own a “Little Black Dress”? I own one dress, and it’s black, but I bought it to wear to Fred’s grandmother’s funeral a few years ago and it’s anything but little. 5. Favorite Article of Clothing? My nightgown! Which is so old it’s practically transparent and about to fall apart, but I don’t care. It’s comfy as hell. The Friday Foofah. 1. It’s late at night, you’re alone at the computer and everybody else is fast asleep. Suddenly you hear the unmistakable sound of the front door creaking open. What do you do? I go wake up Fred to check it out, of course! Although the way our house is set up, if I were sitting at the computer I’d have to go by the front door to wake Fred up, so I’d probably take a butcher knife with me. 2. You’re sound asleep dreaming of pleasant things when you hear a loud roar “I am Sambooza, and you are…lunch!” What do you do? Roll over and go back to sleep? 3. You’re walking to the grocery store on a sunny, cloudless day. You suddenly notice that oddly enough, there’s nobody else on the streets. Just as you’re pondering over that, it gets dark, as if something huge had covered the sun. You look up and see – what? This time of year? A funnel cloud, headed straight for me. Eek! * * * Meester Boogers hopes you have a good weekend!]]>