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2004-06-30

by @ Wednesday, June 30th, 2004. Filed under Life

* * * They’re still doing road construction on the road directly behind our back yard. They didn’t start quite as early this morning – or if they did, I slept through it – but I’m wondering what the hell is taking so long. I swear, by now I could have dug the hole with a shovel, pushed the round cement thingies into the hole, and covered it back up. Well, I guess there’s probably a certain way to put the round cement thingies in the hole, which is probably why it’s taking so long. Which is why they’re the professionals, and I’m just sitting here bitching about them. I sure do hate it when they back up and the beepbeepbeep shatters my eardrums and my brain goes leaking all over the shoulder of my t-shirt, though.

* * *
I can’t believe tomorrow’s July 1st. Good god, where’d the month go? I think it’s time to grow my hair back out to one length. That should take the better part of a year, if not more. My entire life has been nothing but growing it out, chopping it off, growing it out, chopping it off. Maybe after I grow it out this time, I’ll shave my head. Wouldn’t that be fun? (Yeah, if I wanted to end up divorced, maybe…) I have to say that when I saw Samantha Morton in In America, I was jealous. Because that has to be one easy-ass hairstyle to take care of. I doubt that it’s a look that would look good on me, but one of these days I just might go for it! Maybe next summer… (It’d be worth it just to see the look on Fred’s face. Heh.)
* * *
From my comments: You’ve talked about your fatty liver. Do you have any symptoms, and is a fatty liver a really bad things to have? I don’t have any symptoms at all, and wouldn’t know that I had a fatty liver if blood tests hadn’t come back showing elevated liver enzymes. A fatty liver can eventually lead to cirrhosis of the liver. The most effective treatment is diet and exercise, and since I’m doing both I’ll be interested to see how my liver enzymes are when I go back to see the Gastroenterologist in six months. Also, here’s a question you may want to answer someday in an entry: if you think of your life in percentages, what percentage would you say we the readers are let in on? Obviously you keep some things private and only amongst those closest to you, but I’m just curious how much WE get to be a part of. I just had a discussion with Fred about this. I was ready to say maybe 80 – 85%, but he disagreed and said that BECAUSE I MOSTLY SHARE THE MUNDANE DETAILS of my life, it’s more like 50%. Clearly the man doesn’t understand that my life is made up of mundanity. (Shaddup. It’s a word. Because I said so!) Totally off any topic, have you heard any word on how Angel and Stevie are doing, Robyn? Nope, I sure haven’t. The last thing I heard, they were going in for their operations and the vet was going to waive part of his fee, but other than that, I haven’t heard. If anyone has, please leave a comment and let us know! Robyn, did you know that catster is almost ready to make its debut? They listened to you! 🙂 It’s about time, that’s all I’ll say! I thought you were boycotting Applebee’s? Well, I was… but then the Apple Chimicheesecakes called my name and I broke down and went back with the spud. I’m helpless in the face of Applebee’s desserts! I am WEAK and spineless. But damn the Chimicheesecakes are GOOD.
* * *
Fred calls Miz Poo “Musty.” Those of you who just laughed at that are clearly readers of the Dark Tower series. For those of you who have no idea what I’m talking about: Musty is the deformed cat – the familiar – of the witch Rhea of the Coos. When Fred sees Miz Poo looking particularly deformed (due to her Elvis lip) he says, in an old witchy voice, “There, there Musty.” Heh. ]]>

2004-06-29

by @ Tuesday, June 29th, 2004. Filed under Life

beepbeepbeep loud enough to shatter the eardrums when they back up. So far as I can tell, they’re not actually getting much accomplished, but I can’t really see on the other side of the fence, either, so who the hell knows? I wish they’d get the damn job done and over with though, I DO know THAT.

* * *
Wound report: It’s sensitive and weepy. Just like me!
* * *
From my comments: Robyn, The pet store kitties are too cute! Do they have volunteers come in every day or just you once a week? I LOVE kittens and how curious and playful they are. They would rather play witha balled up peice of paper than an actual cat toy. Cute! Nope, they have volunteers come in not only every day, but twice a day to feed and scoop and clean out the cages. Everything having to do with the cats is taken care of by volunteers for the shelter, though the store managers have keys to the cat room in case of emergency. Also, adoptions for the cats are held four (I think) afternoons a week, and trained volunteers run those, as well. The Poppy Seed cake is very very good using: A butter pecan cake mix (betty c I think) and coconut cream instant pudding. That sounds REALLY good. I just wrote that down so I’ll remember to give it a try in the future! I am humbled and bow down to Robyn, the Queen of the Badasses!!!!! Could you go have my biopsies for me? Please? I am not a badass..:( Just keep in mind that the worst part is the anticipation. The part where it’s actually happening never lasts as long as you think it will, but the part where you’re waiting for it to happen lasts FOREVER. I recommend good drugs beforehand. Robyn! How about a little warning next time before you post a picture that funny? People look at me strangely when I laugh that loudly at work, and I can’t really say, “Well, um, I was just laughing at Robyn’s badass face.” I think what you MEAN is that you were so frightened you jumped and screamed, right? Right? But what fun would it be if I warned you beforehand? The best part of putting up a picture like that is that I know y’all will be taken by surprise. 🙂 I know this is going to sound like motherly advice but, don’t go swimming in the quarry ’til the stitches are out. There’s some nasty bacteria in fresh water. I knooooooooooooow, I know. I promise, no swimming in the quarry ’til I’m all healed up. I wouldn’t want fish poop bacteria to get in there and do some damage. I’m a badass, but luckily not a dumb one. Heh. Even though today is a perfect day to go swimming! Did everyone see Nance‘s badass haiku?: You sneer at the pain as they cut holes that will drain badass bitchypoo Hee! What did you think of The Company? It wasn’t quite what I was expecting but it was really good. I liked it, but it wasn’t what I was expecting it, either. It was very documentary-like, but enjoyable. I have to confess that I like Center Stage even more, though. In fact, I just finished watching it again this morning. I think I could watch that last half hour of the movie every single day. Time to add it to my wish list, methinks. Interesting tidbit about The Company: Neve Campbell was actually asked to join the ballet company who took part in the movie, but she turned ’em down. It’s that new sweetener. I think it starts with “Mal” like malbotol. They’re using it in all the low carb sweet stuff. Everybody I’ve talked to has the same intestinal reaction. I think they put it in Weight Watchers stuff so you can eat it the day before a weigh in. 🙂 It’s become a huge topic of discussion on the Weight Watchers site that the desserts can cause stomach upset (or worse). Has something to do with the sugar alcohols they use or something like that Ugh. For sure I’m going to avoid the Applebee’s Weight Watchers desserts, because that was one painful afternoon I don’t want to repeat anytime soon!
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“If she calls me dumb ONE MORE TIME, I’m going to steal her breath while she’s sleeping…” ]]>

2004-06-28

by @ Monday, June 28th, 2004. Filed under Life

Office Space and were watching O Brother, Where Art Thou, I decided that if Meester Boogers were human, he’d be George Clooney in O Brother. Then I sang “Iiiiiiiiiiii am the Stuuuuuuuuump of Constant Sorrowwwwwwwwww!”, which amused Fred to no end. Further, we decided that Spanky would be Delmar (Tim Blake Nelson) due to his less than brilliant brain, and Miz Poo would be Pete (John Turturro) due to her temper. Heh.

* * *
Saturday afternoon I was about 70 pages into Desecration (book number (I think) 9 of the Left Behind books), and I thought “My god, this book SUCKS, I don’t EVEN give a shit what happens to any of these people.” and then I realized I was rooting for the Anti-Christ, which is when I realized that life is just TOO FUCKING SHORT, and I tossed it and the other two books making up the rest of the series into the library donation box. I felt like a MAJOR weight had been lifted off my shoulder. I was really dreading reading those books! Now I don’t gotta. Whee!
* * *
I got a call from my doctor’s office this morning. They got the lab results back already, and they definitely got all of the precancerous stuff this time. THANK GOD, because the last frickin’ thing I want to do is go back and have MORE skin taken. My back throbbed all weekend long despite the Aleve I took, and this morning I woke up with my back itching so badly that I ended up getting out of bed and rubbing my back on the doorway to stop the itching. Not to mention that the band-aid I gave Fred to put on my back yesterday morning (since I can’t actually reach the area) stuck so badly that when he took it off last night it left a big-ass welt where the sticky part had been. It hurt so badly that I about fell on the floor and burst into tears. Thank god I don’t have to keep it covered anymore! It’s still a bit sore and sensitive, though.
* * *
This week’s pet store kitty pics are here. There’s an absolute ton of kitten pictures. At one point I had seven kittens out running around in the cat room, and it was like a circus. Hilarious, too.
* * *
Fred wants to see Fahrenheit 9/11, but it’s not playing anywhere around here. In fact, the only places it’s playing in the entire state are Montgomery and Mobile, and both of those are way too far to drive. I guess we’ll have to wait ’til it comes out on DVD. Speaking of movies, we watched a TON of movies this weekend, because it rained most of the time. We watched: Office Space, O Brother Where Art Thou, Spartan (but turned it off after about ten minutes due to boredom), Get Shorty, The Meaning of Life, Diggstown, Touching the Void, Nemo, and The Hunted. Except for Spartan they were all good in varying degrees (except for Phantasm, but more about that in a minute), but the biggest surprise was Touching the Void, which was far better than I’d expected. It had the definite feel of a documentary even though it wasn’t, and it actually, for about ten seconds, had me wanting to try mountain climbing myself. I got over that pretty quickly, but I highly recommend Touching the Void. As for Phantasm, Fred rented it because he remembered it as being this REALLY good movie from 1979, but it sucked. At one point I looked up when “Mike” was on the screen, and said “He looks like Debra Winger.” For the rest of the movie every time Fred had to look at the kid, he laughed because the kid DOES look like Debra Winger. Rent the crappy-ass movie and see for yourself!
* * *
“Iiiiiiiiiiii am the Stuuuuuuuuump of Constant Sorrowwwwwwwwww!” ]]>

2004-06-25

by @ Friday, June 25th, 2004. Filed under Life

I, on the other hand, am a badass. I laugh in the face of the burning Lidocaine shots in the tender skin of my back! Haha! WHAT pain?” The doctor and the nurse were suitably impressed. “Why, you could PROBABLY do this whole operation without numbing the area at ALL, because I am SUCH a badass! But I know how you doctors like to wield those needles…” The nurse and I gave each other knowing looks. “Can you feel this? Or this?” The doctor said, apparently jabbing me in numbed areas. “Not at all,” I said. “But I’m such a BADASS that even if I completely felt that, I probably wouldn’t tell you! Because I LAUGH -” “-in the face of pain,” the nurse completed in a bored monotone. “Yeah, we know.” I heard the clank of instruments, and then saw a scalpel go by my face. We chatted while the big hunk of skin was removed from my back, and I mentioned the many sunburns I’d suffered as a child living in Guam, and how no doubt I was going to die from the skin cancer because my PARENTS DON’T LOVE ME, but that was okay, that was just FINE, because I am a badass, and I laugh – “in the face of pain?” the doctor suggested. “No! In the face of death! Ha! Ha!” A huge hunk of skin went through my line of vision, and the doctor placed it in a cup of some sort of liquid so that it could be sent to the lab and tested. “Make sure you tell them I’m a badass!” I insisted. “Yeah, I’ll get right on THAT,” the nurse said. “Okay,” the doctor said, and I saw more metal go by my face. As she worked, she gave me care instructions for the wound that she was stitching up. “Keep it covered for twenty-four hours,” she said. “After that, put Neosporin or Bactriban on it, and keep it covered for three days with a band-aid.” I immediately discarded the idea of keeping it covered for twenty-four hours, because I AM A BADASS, and BADASSES love their BBC “Coupling”, and the only time I allow my badass self to watch “Coupling” is when I’m on the badass elliptical trainer (how, after all, do you think I STAY such a badass?), and after I kick ass on the elliptical trainer, I’ll have to take a shower, which will entail getting the wound wet, which will entail replacing the bandage. But I’m a badass. I can handle it. The doctor began stitch number two. “And then you need to come back in ten days to have the stitches removed.” “I am SUCH a badass that instead of coming back in to have YOU remove my stitches, I’ll probably just take them out MYSELF with a pair of rusty scissors!” Somehow the nurse and doctor seemed less than impressed. “So, are you working tomorrow?” the doctor asked as she began stitch number three. “No,” I said. “I don’t work. I don’t HAVE TO. I’m such a badass my husband throws money at me every time he sees me! Sometimes I even pay the bills with it!” “And what did you do when you worked?” said the nurse. “I was an office manager,” I said, and then reflected upon what I said. “But I was a BADASS office manager. I made people CRY when I sneered at them!” Suddenly I felt a tugging sensation on my back. “Hey,” I said. “I felt THAT.” The nurse smiled. “We’re allllmost done. Just hold on to your badass horses!” I heard the snipping sound as she cut the ends off stitch number three. “So, did you like your job?” the doctor asked. “Yeah, pretty much except for when – JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE FUCK?! OH MY GOD! WHAT THE GODDAMN FUCKING HELL WAS THAT??” I flailed around. “OW! OW! OUCH, GODDAMNIT!” “Oh,” the doctor said mildly. “I guess you felt that one too, huh? Good thing you’re such a badass. If you weren’t, I might numb the area a little more! You’re going to feel a little tugging…” “OWWWWW! OWWWWW! OH GODDAMN, MAKE IT STOP!” I screamed and flailed some more. “Hold her down,” the doctor ordered, not sounding nice in the least. The nurse threw herself across me to hold me down. I flailed the best I could, but the nurse was stronger than I’d expected. “Just one more!” the doctor said cheerily. “OWWWWWWW! OWWWWWWWWW! GODDAMNIT FUCKING HELL YOU BITCH I HATE YOU OWWWWWWWWWWWW!” “There,” the doctor said a few minutes later. “All done! That wasn’t so bad, was it? After ALL, you’re… what’s the word?” “A badass,” the nurse contributed. “I AM a badass!” I sniffled. “I am!” They snickered at me for a few more minutes, then I got dressed and left. Upon rethinking the incident, I am reassured that I really am the badass I keep insisting I am. Why? Because anyone ELSE would have passed out or even died from the pain, but me? Just a little yelling. A little sobbing. A little wailing and flailing. That’s right.

I’m a badass.
* * *
Seriously, though, I did feel the last three stitches go in, and while I was stoic and didn’t even flinch, it HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. It’s hurting today, too, even though I’ve taken Aleve. Q. Guess what makes a big ol’ wound in your back hurt? A. Sweat. Q. Guess what makes you (me) sweat a LOT? A. Doing the elliptical trainer for an hour. Q. Guess what sucks more than being on the elliptical trainer for an hour and sweating and making the big wound on your back hurt? A. Getting up at 4:50 am to do it, so that your husband (who I’m SURE will write a frickin’ SONG about it) will be around when you get out of the shower and can put ointment and a big band-aid over said big nasty wound. Yeah. That just SUCKED, because after I showered I couldn’t get back to sleep like I’d intended. Not only am I a BADASS, I’m a DEDICATED badass. You know you tremble in fear of me. How do you think I STAY such a badass? I have to keep in shape (hey… round is a shape!) so I can kick ass in a badass manner when it’s required! Keeping in mind that it’s bloody and gross and made Fred want to run around in circles and scream like a little girl, you can see a picture of my stitched-up wound here.
* * *
I made a cake – a poppy seed cake – this morning, and the house smells SO GOOD. I swear, if they made a perfume that smelled like cinnamon and sugar, I’d buy and wear it. Also, Meester Boogers has cake mix atop his little head, because he’s a nosy little bastard and stuck his head under the mixing beater (after I’d already mixed the cake and was pouring it into the cake pan). And for the record, he apparently likes cake mix, because not only did he lick a small amount up off the counter, but he spent the next fifteen minutes giving me the “More? Please? For a poor starving kitty?”
* * *
I sure do wish it’d STOP FUCKING RAINING.
* * *
Fred and I worked out together this morning (if “together” means “in the same room”), and I was watching the last episode of “Coupling”, season 1, and Fred actually laughed out loud not just once, but TWICE. I was actually a little surprised, because I didn’t think it would appeal to him. Maybe I can convince him to watch season 2 with me! (Not going to hold my breath, though…)
* * *
I hope to spend a good part of my weekend doing this. Not this, though. I don’t think I’d be comfortable in that particular position. ]]>

2004-06-24

by @ Thursday, June 24th, 2004. Filed under Life

Secret Window the DAY it came out, and I have Reality Bites to send back today and “Coupling” tomorrow, which means that I’ll get Cold Mountain the day IT comes out, so I can force Fred to sit down and watch it with me. Whoo!

* * *
I finally – FINALLY! – updated the Go Fuck Yourself page yesterday. I hadn’t done it since MARCH (since I SUCK), and I ended up adding 78 new sites. There were several sites submitted that either didn’t exist anymore or were passworded, so I trashed those emails. This brings the GFY membership up to 373; that’s something, ain’t it? I’m going to try to keep on top of things from here on out… but don’t hold your breath!
* * *
I finished reading The Crimson Petal and the White last night, FINALLY. I feel like I should get a prize for finishing it in (about) a week. I put up a little bit of why I rated it the way I did, but don’t read it if you haven’t read the book yet – there are spoilers. See that here. Yes. Robyn DID recently learn how to do popup windows. Why do you ask? Now it’s time to do a little light Miss Julia reading before I get started on those last three Left Behind books. Shaddup. I read the first seventy Left Behinds, and I have to see this through. LIKE I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN or something. Oh, Rayford Steele, you manly stud. Oh, Buck. (Can’t say as I have crushes on either of THOSE fictional characters…)
* * *
Fred pointed out last week when we were watching something on DVD that when someone falls in a movie or on TV, even if they’re only falling from a standing position to the floor, the shot that shows them laying on the floor always ALWAYS shows them with one leg kicked up to the side. It’s true! Keep an eye out and you’ll notice that there’s always one leg kicked up. It makes me want to throw myself down the stairs and see if I end up at the bottom with one leg kicked up. Heh.
* * *
“No, Mother. NO. I WILL NOT YAWN FOR YOU. Stop making the yawny noises, because I will no longer provide fodder for you. NO. STOP IT, damn you!” “Damn you, wo – ::yawwwwwwwwwn::” “I can’t stop yawning! I hate you.” ]]>

2004-06-23

by @ Wednesday, June 23rd, 2004. Filed under Life

go donate. You’ll feel good and without all that caffeine in your system you’ll sleep like a baby tonight. I promise!

* * *
So on Sunday I did something I haven’t done in the almost three years we’ve lived in this house. I grabbed my Swiffer, went out to the garage, and Swiffered the hell out of the cobwebs and old spider webs that have been building up near the ceiling. I freaked out a bunch of spiders – I didn’t go out of my way to kill any of them, as long as they ran when they saw me coming. There was one spider with long, spindly legs who got a bit combatative, though, so I had to squish him. After I Swiffered the walls and ceiling, I swept the floor, vacuumed the rugs, and straightened up a bit, and it actually looks pretty good out there – at least for now. But the sad thing is that EVERY SINGLE TIME I’ve worked out for the past 2 1/2 months, I’d look at the walls and ceilings and the floor, and think “DAMN it’s nasty out here. I need to get my ass out here and clean…” and by the time I was done working out, I’d think “Yeah, get out here and clean? I THINK NOT.” It’s clean now, though, and I think you know what that means. That’s right. I don’t have to do it again for another three years!!! (For the record, I do vacuum out there every couple of months…)
* * *
Also, I’m done cleaning and rearranging the spud’s bedroom. AND I vacuumed the stairs yesterday! I’m just a house-cleaning fanatic, is what I am.
* * *
I had all-journaler dreams last night. Not only did I visit Nance (she made me talk baby talk to her cats. Yes she did!), I went and saw Jane’s Elliot as Che in Evita (he was wonderful, of course. Put Antonia Banderas in the movie version to shame), I also helped Allison pick out a wedding dress (she looked FABULOUS, dahlink. Possibly she won’t really wear a red wedding dress in real life, though), and lastly I ran around trying to help Mo stuff Harve into a side-load cat carrier. I blame it on the PMS.
* * *
Exciting news! At least for me! You probably won’t be excited at all, though! My sister changed her tickets to Hawaii so that she and Brian will be landing in Hawaii on the same day as the spud and I! This means the entire time we’re there, they’ll be there, too! Woot! Seriously, I’m pretty damn excited that she’ll be there the whole time I’m there – before, I was going to get there on a Wednesday and she was going to get there on the following Saturday, which meant we’d only have four days together. Now we’ve got seven. Yay!!! Can you tell I’m getting really excited about our upcoming trip to Hawaii? ‘Cause I am!!! Wickedly excited!!!! Okay, I’ve used up a week’s worth of exclamation points. I’ll shut up now.
* * *
So, remember when a few days ago I mentioned I had to register for a blogspot account and didn’t know what I’d use it for? Yeah. Well, I went in and cleared out all my cookies, and now I can’t log into WordPress to post something over at the Tater. None of my usual user names or passwords work, so I’m shit out of luck. I’m pretty sure I’m about to delete it and start it up over at Blogspot or one of the other free places. I’ll let y’all know what I decide!
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He’s the sleepingest kitty in the whole wide world.]]>

2004-06-22

by @ Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004. Filed under Life

* * * I was awakened at 6:45ish this morning by a loud scream and then a stream of profanity. I woke up, listened for a moment, and then grinned and went back to sleep. It appears that Fred found the cup I left upside-down on the floor last night. When he picked it up, he found the big-ass spider I’d covered with it.

* * *
From my comments: I don’t get playboy. Did they print your letter exactly as you wrote it or did they pick and choose from what you wrote? I once wrote a letter to one of my favorite magazines and they cut and pasted my letter and made me look like a complete jackass. I hope that didn’t happen to you; although, if it did, i know you’d raise enough hell to make them think twice about doing that again! They did some editing, but kept the spirit of the piece. Of course, the question is, will I really show my mother a letter I wrote to a national publication, wherein I used the words “plastic fuck dolls”? You can read what they published of the letter I sent, over at OFB. It’s about halfway down the page. robyn, i love that mostly pink quilt that the kitties are so often lounging on. is it homemade, or did you buy it somewhere. i truly feel like my life would be complete with a quilt like that. That quilt is almost as old as I am. My mother made it when I was, oh, three or four, and used scraps of material from clothes she’d made me. She thinks it’s absolutely hideous – I think it was one of the first quilts she ever made – but I adore it. It’s the perfect weight, it’s very soft, and despite the many times I’ve run it through the washer and dryer it’s holding up very well! Robyn, I’m going to Waikiki the second week of August, but just for 6 days. I know you have the swim suit situation fixed, but what about regular clothes? I don’t wear shorts in public (5’2″, 215 lbs), and I will also be there with family, some that haven’t seen me since 105 lbs, so I’m a little freaked out. Anyway, I went to Wal-mart and bought Just-My-Size stretch denim capri pants (no wide leg or flared for me) in 4 colors. I also hate hate hate to wear bras, especially in horrid humid weather, so bought spagetti-strapped tee shirts that have the built-in bra thingy. Then, I ordered 3/4 sleeve stretch button down the front shirts from Chadwick’s in great colors to wear over the tees. I already had one in white and because of the seams on the front and the back it looked so much better than the camp shirts I was going to wear. And then sandals without ankle straps. Not so good for hiking, but a short stubby girl needs all the leg length she can get. I have a bathing suit, but was wondering about the swim skirt Land’s End had in their catalogue. Did you happen to try it on? What did the spud pick out? I got a video postcard from my mother, and in the message area, she said the following: Tips: You won’t need jackets or sweaters, except on the plane. Shorts are best (even I wear them all the time). Jeans are too hot. Light weight “crop” pants or pedal pushers 2nd best. Shoes to wear in water, especially for snorkeling – walking shoes – sneakers are good but get hot – Teva’s have worked for me – sandals are okay for short distances. The wind blows a lot, so something to tie hair out of way. With that in mind, I bought a couple of pairs of shorts that are comfortable and look okay. I’m going to bring the shorts, a couple of pairs of capri pants (capri pants and “pedal pushers” are the same thing, right?), and a variety of t-shirts to wear with them all. I got my ugly board shorts from Junonia to wear with a t-shirt on the beach, and I’m going to bring my water shoes for wearing in the water, and sneakers for the rest, because my feet won’t put up with anything else when I have to walk for more than ten feet. I don’t know what I’m going to use to tie my hair out of the way, since it’s too short for that. I may have to just put up with my hair blowing in my face! The spud ended up getting the Women’s Sport Tankini, with the shorts. She looks really cute in it, but I had already decided that I was going to get the board shorts from Junonia, so I didn’t think about anything from Land’s End for myself. With all the books you give away on your giveaway page, are you a member of BookCrossings? I am actually registered with BookCrossings, but I had actually forgotten about it! I think I’ll put up a note to remind myself to register the books I give away with BookCrossings before I send them out. It’d be neat to see where they end up. (Regarding the pictures in this entry) Just wondering what that creepy looking yellowy goo stuff is crawling up the structure in the first underwater photo? It looks all slimy. Is it? And I was AMAZED that there were so many fish!! Are those the “bream”? That creepy looking yellowy goo stuff is… slimy goo stuff, of course. I have no idea what it is, but it’s all over the place under the water. I do my best not to touch the stuff, because it’s icky. And yeah, those fish are the bream, and there are some carp in there as well, and probably some other kinds of fish I don’t know the names of. They all look the same to me – the only fish I definitely know are the catfish because of their “whiskers”. Ugh. How’s The Crimson Petal and the White? It’s on my wish list, but I haven’t given in to temptation yet. It’s DAMN LONG, is what it is! I’ve been reading for days and days, and I’m just now halfway through it. I’m enjoying it more than I expected I would, though there are some slow parts. Michael Faber’s really good at the details of what life in 19th-century London was like, and I’ve actually found myself holding my breath when he talks about the smells rising from the gutter (so I can’t smell those smells, you understand). At this point, I’d rate it 3 1/2 – 4 Poos. Where did you get the collapsible cat carrier? I need to get one for my mom, well, not *for* her, but you know. Whatever. She has 2 cats and needs a carrier but doesn’t have a collapsible one. I think we actually got it when we adopted either Tubby or Miz Poo, but I know that I’ve seen them at PetSmart. It’s definitely easier to get the cats into top-load carriers than the plastic end-load carrier that we have.
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We went to the quarry yesterday. There were a bunch of people set up on the piers at the close end of the quarry, but at the far end there was no one, so that’s where we went. We swam around for a while, watching the little fish watch us, so that Fred could try out his new snorkel. After half an hour or so we headed back to the pier and stayed in that general vicinity. “Hey, watch me!” Fred said. “I’m going to swim down under the pier and touch the rope!” It’s very dark and creepy under the pier, so it’s like a test of his manhood to go under there. I pushed off the pier so that I could watch him, he took a few deep breaths, and dove. He was not quite under the pier, when he suddenly froze, ran in place, and then swam back to the surface of the water as fast as he could. Since he is not a man prone to freak out about inconsequential things, I was pretty sure we were about to be eaten by something the size of a car, and I all but ran across the surface of the water to join him. “Holy crap!” he gasped. “Did you see that fish?” I looked back down into the water, and a few moments later a big, fat two-foot-long carp drifted into view. He eyeballed us angrily for a few seconds, and then swam away. The fish in that quarry are going to be the death of me, I swear. One of these days I’m going to look down and see a ten-foot carp glaring up at me, and I’m just going to keel over from a heart attack. Fred’s going to have to tow me back to the pier so that the bream and carp don’t nibble at my cold, dead toes.
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2004-06-21

by @ Monday, June 21st, 2004. Filed under Life

bitchypoo.blogspot.com as my own. Snazzy, eh? Just what I need, another site to neglect!

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Thank you to Sabrina, who sent me this link and made me shoot Diet Coke out of my nose! El Guapo! Hee!
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Also, my evil EVIL sister-in-law sent me a creepy-ass picture. I’m not kidding, it’s creepy as all hell. You can click here to see it, but remember – I’ve warned you. CREE. PYYYY.
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Last week’s pet store kitty pics are here, and this week’s are here.
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So, Saturday morning, as I was sitting in front of my computer trying to force myself to get off my ass and go exercise, I looked out the window at the bright, sunny day, and said “We could go to the quarry and swim around and I could call that my exercise for the day!” And voila, it was done! Fred ate his breakfast and got ready, and we were out the door about twenty minutes later. There were a bunch of people there – a lot of divers – so we got away from the pier quickly, and swam (I use the word loosely) around the perimeter of the quarry. Fred did a couple of dives so that I could take his picture, we took turns diving down to touch the creepy algae-covered tree, and I snapped a few pictures of the fish who came to investigate just what the hell we thought we were doing. At one point, I got a bit of water in my snorkel, and it wouldn’t blow out. “Self,” I said. “It would probably be a good time to just empty out your snorkel, and you could de-fog your mask as well!” That suggestion worked it’s way up the chain of command, was debated by the bureaucrats in my brain, and it was decided that it was, in fact, a good idea. So, I pulled the end of the snorkel out of my mouth, and at the same time pulled the mask off my face. Except that someone was asleep at the wheel because when I did that, I still had my face in the water. I was immediately blinded by the rush of water into my eyes, and simultaneously, although I had no snorkel end in my mouth, I still attempted to breathe in a huge mouthful of water. But the guy in charge of the “lungs or stomach? stomach or lungs?” switch was on his toes, and the huge (I mean HUGE) mouthful of water was diverted to my stomach. Tasted pretty good, too. Kind of like rainwater. We ended up swimming around the quarry for almost two hours, which is the longest we’ve ever spent there. Fred ended up with a burn on his face, and I got a burn on the backs of my legs. Luckily the sun was only out about half the time we were there, or no doubt we would have ended up absolutely fried. (Don’t lecture me, I KNOW. I swear I’ll wear sunscreen from now on okay, MOTHER?) Once we left the quarry, we came home and put on dry clothes, then laid on the bed and talked. We’d planned to go to Applebee’s for dinner to try out their Weight Watcher’s menu, but Fred was kind of dreading going out for dinner, and I was dreading having to eat dinner at 4:00 so we could beat the crowd. Finally, I suggested we have Applebee’s for lunch instead of dinner, and he agreed. We spent half an hour or so deciding the many places in the house that needed touchup painting – especially the spud’s bedroom – and then left for lunch. I had the Teriyaki Shrimp Skewers, which was pretty good, although the dipping sauce tasted a little funny; I suspect they use fat-free something or other to make it. Fred had the Sizzling Chicken Skillet, which he liked so much that even a day later he was talking about how good it was. I had dessert – Chocolate Raspberry Layer Cake – that was so tiny that when the waiter showed up with it, Fred and I both began laughing. It was good, though, and when we left Applebee’s I was at least satisfied if not quite full. When we left Applebee’s we went to Dick’s Sporting Goods to look for a snorkel for Fred, and see what they had for fins (answer: not much). Fred picked up a pretty nice snorkel and some t-shirts, and then we headed home. After such a busy morning and afternoon (I mean, seriously. We NEVER do that much in a day on the weekend!), we settled in for naps in our respective bedrooms. I woke up about 4… and had to run for the bathroom. Which is what I spent the next four hours doing, dealing with – shall we say – intestinal issues. It appears that either the mouthful of quarry water or something I ate at Applebee’s hit me the wrong way. Fred helped by crowing “You probably have dysentery!” repeatedly. Bastard. Sunday morning I woke up and felt just fine, though. Maybe whatever I swallowed at the quarry made it’s way out the other end… or maybe it’s just laying dormant for the moment, waiting for the perfect moment to strike again.
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“Hey! Keep it down over there!” How can this be comfortable? “If that little bastard doesn’t stop with the damn yawning…” ]]>

2004-06-18

by @ Friday, June 18th, 2004. Filed under Life

* * * “Baby,” I said. “I am at a complete loss. I have NO idea what to get you for Father’s Day.” “Oh, you don’t need to get me anything!” Fred said, shaking his head earnestly. “Well, I was thinking that maybe you could go get a massage, and we’d call it your Father’s Day present!” A considering gleam came to his eye and he thought for a moment. “How about a massage… and a cake from Peggy Ann’s Bakery!” he said. “Yeah!” We really REALLY like the cakes from Peggy Ann’s, and I’m no fool – I was NOT about to argue with that idea. “We can get yellow roses on it this time!” That night, while we were laying in bed, I picked up the phone. “Who are you calling?” Fred asked. I held up the shushing finger, and he said “Oh. Are you calling me?” “Hey,” I said, “Don’t forget to call Peggy Ann and order the cake. And make sure they don’t put any cheese on it. Love you!” Teasing him about his dislike for cheese on a salad just never gets old. And yes, I made him call in the order for his own Father’s Day cake. I also made him call it in for his birthday. I probably haven’t mentioned it before, but I HATE talking on the phone. This morning, Fred called me at least three times before 9:30. “When are you going to go get the cake?” he asked. “Go get the cake!” “STOP HARASSING ME!” I snapped. “You won’t be able to eat any of it until you get home this afternoon, so what’s the difference?” “I just want you to go pick it up,” he said in a small voice. “OKAY, I’m going! I’m going to the post office, and then I’ll get your damn cake. GEEZ!” After a stop at the post office and a stop to fill up my gas tank ($1.92 a gallon for the cheap stuff), I made the arduous journey to South Huntsville. It took about half an hour. “Hi!” the sales clerk chirped as I stepped through the door. “Can I help you?” “Yeah, I’m picking up a cake for And3rson,” I said. While she looked through the cake boxes, I glanced around at all the goodies on display, especially the smiley-face cookies. They had little pieces of fudge in a cup for customers to take, so I ate one, and then swooned. Fudge as good as in Gatlinburg! I looked up in time to see the sales clerk lift the top of the box, look at the cake, and then give me an odd look. Huh, I thought. I wonder if there’s a problem with the cake. She turned the cake toward me, and I stared down at it, waiting for what I saw to make sense. When I realized what it said, my face turned an instant bright red and I giggled stupidly. “Heh. Yeah. Looks good!” I said, paid as quickly as I could, grabbed the cake box, and beat a hasty retreat. In the car, I called Fred from my cell phone. “You are such a shithead!” All I heard on the other end was laughter.

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Doot-doot-doot, lookin’ out my back door: And out the upstairs window. Displeased. They’re digging on the other side of our fence to put in a culvert. This pleases us, because then there won’t be that big, scary ditch there, and Fred can actually mow or weed-eat back there instead of leaving it so that it gets all ratty and overgrown. And on the plus side, the next time someone’s being an assmonkey on the road, loses control of his car, and swerves over toward our back yard, rather than hitting the ditch and flying up into the air, he’ll drive across the flat part where the ditch used to be, come through our fence, and probably still have enough momentum to keep going straight through our living room. Fun! (THAT would certainly be something worth doing an entry about, eh?)
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I had to take Miz Poo to the vet’s yesterday. Her big, puffy, swollen lip, despite the shot of steroids a month ago, was back to it’s big, puffy, swollen state, requiring another shot. I really don’t like taking any of the cats to the vet, not only because they get so freaked out when I get out the carrier, but also because although our vet is absolutely awesome (after all, he saved Miz Poo’s life last year), I cannot understand about 3/4 of what the man says. To me, that’s a stressful thing. At one point he asked me how Fred was, and I just stared at him with a blank look on my face, and finally asked him to repeat what he’d said. It’s usually Fred’s job to take the cats to the vet (yes, he IS a saint), but he asked me to do this so we could go to the quarry for an hour or so. And by the time he got home, it was cloudy out and looked like it might rain, so we ended up not going. I haven’t been to the quarry in a week, damnit!
Meester Boogers tries to help Miz Poo escape from the box.
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Licklicklicklick. ]]>

2004-06-17

by @ Thursday, June 17th, 2004. Filed under Life

Ten. Ten Books I’m Looking Forward to Reading: 1. The Time Traveler’s Wife 2. Dead Famous 3. Ten Big Ones 4. R is for Ricochet 5. The Enemy 6. Girl Boy Etc 7. The Narrows 8. My Sister’s Keeper 9. Running With Scissors 10. Bergdorf Blondes (even though, from all reports, Plum Sykes is a self-important bitch to the Nth degree). Ten Things (NOT people or cats) I Can’t Would Rather Not Live Without: 1. Blistex 2. Candles 3. Curel Lotion 4. Bath fizzies 5. Diet Coke 6. My Camera 7. My phone 8. My birthday present from Nance (I use it EVERY day, Nance!) 9. My slippers 10. My frickin’, stupid, goddamn piece of shit computer My Ten Favorite Pairs of Earrings: 1. The ones I bought for myself at Kohl’s yesterday to assauge the pain of that horrid fucking picture Fred took of me. 2. Why yes, I AM under the impression I’m still 10 years old! 3. I have no idea where these came from. 4. I bought these off eBay. from Kathy. 5. A birthday present from Fred several years ago. (Yes, real diamonds! Whee!) 6. Seven ninety-nine at Target! 7. One of my Christmas presents from Fred last year. It’s a cat, curled up sleeping (bad picture, I know) 8. My favorite Christmas earrings. (I bet you’re surprised they’re not big, gaudy Rudolph earrings with light-up noses, aren’t you?) 9. Another $7.99 special from Target. 10. I’ve had these earrings for at least ten years. I think they came from Avon. My Ten Favorite Smells: 1. Fred’s neck (shaddup) 2. Baby powder 3. Cats (as long as they aren’t wet) 4. Wildberry Pancakes-scented candles 5. Buttercream Yankee Candles 6. A fresh-squeezed lemon (Fred uses fresh lemon juice in his tea) 7. Sand & Sable perfume (it smells like the beach to me) 8. Ammonia (I use it to clean with) 9. My clothes after I’ve been swimming in the quarry (they smell like rainwater) 10. Freshly mown grass Ten Things I Really Really Fucking Hate Doing: 1. Taking the cat (any of them!) to the vet 2. Talking on the phone (99.99999% of the time) 3. Putting the dishes in the dishwasher away 4. Mopping the floors 5. Cleaning the litter box 6. Scrubbing the shower 7. Having my picture taken 8. Cleaning around the toilet (don’t GET me started) 9. Pulling up weeds 10. Cleaning out the frickin’ birdbath The Last Ten Sites I Visited: 1. Nance 2. The Usual Suspects 3. Amazon 4. Mo’s blog 5. RFCU 6. Mac’s old page 7. Mac’s new page 8. Netflix 9. Burnt Fuse 10. Dooce The Top Ten Movies in my Netflix Queue: 1. 50 First Dates 2. Secret Window 3. The Office 4. Cold Mountain 5. Pieces of April 6. The School of Rock 7. The Butterfly Effect 8. Ghost World 9. Crumb 10. Stevie (I finished watching Center Stage this morning. I think I may have to buy that movie, I love it so much.) The Ten Last Things I Ate: 1. Dannon white chocolate and raspberry yogurt 2. 2 tiny plums 3. 1 peach 4. Salad with cherry tomatoes and Kraft Lite 3-Cheese Ranch dressing 5. A honey-dijon chicken Lean Cuisine (nasty, nasty aftertaste) 6. An Egg McMuffin 7. 1 1/2 cups of Cheerios 8. 1 pc. of toast with raspberry jam 9. String cheese 10. 1 c. watermelon cubes The Last Ten Songs I Heard: 1. Good as I was to you – Lorrie Morgan 2. Displaced – Azure Ray 3. You were mine – Dixie Chicks 4. Save me – Aimee Mann 5. I’m moving on – Rascal Flatts 6. Anymore – Travis Tritt 7. Forgive – Rebecca Lynn Howard 8. Still within the sound of my voice – Glen Campbell 9. Brick – Ben Folds 10. Why – Annie Lennox (Can you tell I’m listening to my “sad songs” directory?) Ten Things I Should Be Doing Instead of Sitting on My Ass in Front of the Computer: 1. Answering email 2. Paying bills 3. Updating the GFY page 4. Putting up OFB archives 5. Cleaning the downstairs bathroom 6. Cleaning off my desk 7. Spying on the neighbors 8. Vacuuming the downstairs 9. Brushing Spot, who’s been shedding in a big way lately 10. Eating dinner (which I’m going to go do now. Night!)

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Mr. Photogenic.]]>

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