here.
Also, there’s a new movie of the “week” (if by “week” you mean “whenever the hell I get around to it”). This one’s starring Meester Boogers with a brief appearance by Spanky and a slightly longer appearance by Miz Poo.
The first part is what happens every single night when Fred shakes the box of Kitten Chow. Meester Boogers runs from wherever he is, across the bed, and onto the floor to wait for his little pile of food. (I have mentioned that our cats think Kitten Chow is the best treat ever, right?) The next little bit is what Meester Boogers thinks of having the cat door closed so he can’t go outside. And lastly, Miz Poo was trying to come back through the cat door, and the Booger was freaking out at the very idea.
Look, I can’t HELP it that all the movies star Meester Boogers. He’s the only cat who doesn’t just lay around sleeping 24/7!
Anyway, click on the “Movie of the week” link over there under “Other”. It’s a long motherfucker, so right-click and “save as”, wouldya? Thanks, you’re a pal.
* * *
The hardwood and tile floors downstairs are CLEAN, thankyajeezus. Of course, they have little kitty footprints across them because that little Beanie bastard can’t stand not to walk across a wet floor, but at least they’re CLEAN footprints. The bathroom is clean, the kitchen is clean, the living room is dusted and vacuumed, the stairs are vacuumed, and the computer room is vacuumed.
In other words, at this very moment, the downstairs is presentable for company. I suspect that by this weekend, when Fred has his parents over, it’ll be less presentable.
But I don’t care, I’ll be in Hawaii! Whoo!
* * *
I took my heart (or rather, my sanity) in my hands and went to Wal-Mart today. I needed earplugs, and Wal-Mart is apparently the only store in the area that carries the soft foam ones I like. I also had to get a few other things, and the spud wanted to check out their flip-flop collection.
She ended up buying three pair of flip-flops and a set of toe rings.
I don’t wear flip-flops because I can bear to have the thingy between my toes, so I have no idea where her sudden flip-flop love comes from.
(She got a pair that light up while she was in California. If they were anything but flip-flops, I would have stolen them from her so fast her head would’ve spun.)
Then we went to the grocery store and got sushi for lunch, because it was well past lunch time and we were both starving. I got my usual (California Rolls), and she got something else, I don’t remember the name of it. We ate as soon as we got home, and when the spud was done, she showed me her plate.
“What’s this?” she asked, pointing to little orange speckles on her plate.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, spices?”
“They look like FISH EGGS,” she said.
I looked again. “Yeah, they could be.”
“Well, that’s gross!” she said, and flounced into the kitchen to put her plate in the dishwasher.
“You eat chicken eggs all the time,” I said. “Why are fish eggs gross?”
She looked simultaneously confused and disgusted. “When do I eat CHICKEN eggs?” She wrinkled her nose.
I stared at her for a moment, chewing on the California roll in my mouth. I waited for the light to dawn on her face, but all was dark.
“Like, every day when you have scrambled eggs!” I finally said.
“Oh!” she had the good sense to look a little embarrassed. “I guess I wasn’t thinking!”
Heh. She gets that from her Momma.
* * *
I’m 99.9% packed. And because I’m using a big-ass
LL Bean duffel bag with wheels (the yellow one, naturally), every time I thought I was done packing, I remembered something else I might possibly need, and packed that, too.
Despite my father telling me this afternoon not to overpack, I have overpacked in a big way. I was still able to lift the bag… which means I need to pack more, right?
* * *
“My mother is abandoning me, and I am bereft.”]]>