2004-07-08

* * * Robyn’s book report: The Da Vinci Code: Liked it, though the last several pages kind of dragged. I can see why it made it onto the best seller list, though I’m not sure why it’s STILL on the best seller list. Click here for spoilers. Flirting with Pete: Good so far, though I’ve been finding myself a little impatient since Barbara Delinsky does like to go on and I want her to just get to the POINT already. A good, quick read – I’ll easily finish this book sometime today.

* * *
The spud is going to be home later today; I’m picking her up at the (stalker alert!) airport this afternoon. These last five weeks just flew by. It’ll be good to have her home, since I always worry a little when she’s so far away. And this time next week? We’ll be stumbling around Hawaii in the throes of jet lag. Whee! We’re landing in Hawaii at 10:19 pm next Wednesday night, which will feel like 3:19 am to us. We’re going to be some tired motherfuckers, that’s for sure. I can never really sleep on planes, so I guess I’d better be sure I bring along a ton of books to read. Hey, maybe I’ll register them all with BookCrossing and leave them wherever I happen to be when I’m done reading them! Reminder to self: “Where’s George” vacation money before leaving. Response to self: What vacation money? We’re going to throw ourselves on the kindness of strangers. Response to self’s response to self: Oh. Right.
* * *
Speaking of Hawaii, I ordered a couple of very cheap red t-shirts to wear with my hid-e-ass board shorts to go into the water, and I’m pleased to announce that they’ll do nicely. I also ordered a ($5! Whoo! Love the clearance!) polo shirt that should fit me, but seems to be about three sizes too big. Seriously, it hangs all the way down to my knees, and while I know I should return it because oversized shirts on fat chicks are not so flattering, it’s the most comfortable shirt I’ve ever worn, and so I’m going to keep it and wear it. Although since it was $5, no doubt the first time I wash it, it’ll fall to pieces.
* * *
Still liking Firefox – especially the “open in tab” option, whoo! – but I went into Nance‘s chat room yesterday and every time someone said (typed) something, instead of showing up at the bottom of the screen, it would show up at the top of the screen. It freaked me out (yeah, obviously it doesn’t take a great deal to freak me out). It’s definitely a Firefox thing, though – I went back in in IE, and the chat room looked like it was supposed to. Also, I’m making it so that all my notify emails are going to my gmail account, but man! I sure belong to A FUCKING LOT of notify lists! Every time I think I’m all set, another notify shows up at the old address. Lordy.
* * *
The fucking cats have been stomping all the fuck over my nerves lately. I was up ’til almost midnight last night, and when I turned the light off and settled in to go to sleep, Miz Poo jumped up and settled in on the pillow next to me. Which is not a problem, because I love the Poo-pie! Yes I do! Except. Grrr. When she was operated on a few years ago (don’t even ask me what the operation was for, there’ve been so fucking many of them!), once she came home she developed some… something. I don’t know what the hell it is, but sometimes she starts breathing raspily, and it’s not that she can’t breathe, it’s that something seems to be stuck in her throat, and instead of just coughing it the fuck up like a normal person (yes, I know she’s not a person. Shut UP.) would, she just sits there and makes that noise for hours and hours and then suddenly she’ll cough and swallow, and all is fine. Yes, we took her to the vet. No, they don’t know what it is. Yes, we took her to more than one vet. No, none of them had anything helpful to say. Yes, we tried antibiotics. No, it’s not asthma. No, there’s no rhyme nor reason to when it happens. No, it’s not allergies. Sometimes Fred will kind of perform the Heimlich on her and it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t. Anyway, last night on the pillow with her raspy-breathing self three inches from my face, even though I was wearing earplugs, it was loud and after two minutes it got really, really annoying. Now, perhaps I’ve mentioned, I LOVE the Poo-pie! Yes, I dooooooo! However, I love my sleep MORE, and if it comes down to a choice between the Poo and my sleep, there’s really no competition. So I pushed her off the pillow toward the edge of the bed. “Goodnight, Poo,” I said. She walked off the edge of the bed… onto the bedside table, where she turned around and sat down and stared at me. The raspy breathing was as clear through my earplugs as it had been when she was laying ten inches closer to me. And then suddenly Spanky began his infernal nightly howling. Spot began his infernal nightly ass-licking. Stumpy began his infernal night running around and “Brrr? Brrr! Brrr!” “Oh, come ON!!!” I bellowed, throwing myself across the bed. “Give me a fucking BREAK!” ::rasp::rasp::rasp:: ::mrowrrrrrrrr! mrowwwwwr! mrowrrrrrrrr!:: ::slurp::slurp::slurp:: ::bangbangbang::brrr! brrr? brrr!:: “Agh!” I yelled. “I hate you kitties! I hate you all!” And then brilliance struck. I sat up, grabbed the can of compressed air off the bedside table (not the table Miz Poo was on – the table on my side of the bed)(also, what? Where do you keep YOUR compressed air?) and sprayed it in the air in an arc. There was a mass stampede of cats hauling ass out of the room, Meester Boogers ::Brr!Brr?Brr!::ing all the way. They may have started it up again once they realized the can of air was no longer spraying, but by then I was thankfully sound asleep. Fucking cats.
* * *
For all you Spanky lovahs out there.]]>