Month: April 2005

An Isolated Incident, still. Not a bad book, though the love scene I just read was a wee bit hokey. In less than a minute, they had rid themselves of the remainder of their clothing, and then there was no more need for words as their bodies began to communicate with one another. Um, yeah. Hokey.

* * * So when you’re walking the parkway in Gatlinburg, there are these booths every so often, and these booths are staffed by people whose main goal is to get you to attend a 2-hour informational meeting about buying timeshares in Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. You’ll be walking along minding your own business, and the people in the booths will be all “Ma’am! Ma’am! Are you planning on attending any shows? I can give you tickets to see the shows for free!” Now, I ignore these motherfuckers, because you know what? I’m NOT INTERESTED in what they’re offering, I’m not interested in buying a timeshare, I’m not interested in being sucked into a dialogue with them. Fred, however, politely smiles and says “No thank you!” every single time, and he thinks I am the RUDEST PERSON EVER for ignoring the people in the booths. This is the way I see it: it’s MIGHTY FUCKING RUDE to try to sell me shit I neither want nor need, when I am wandering along the sidewalk minding my own business. And this is, last time I checked, a free country. Just because the fuckers are talking to me doesn’t mean I’m obligated to listen to their bullshit, does it? What are they going to do, have me arrested for ignoring them? Fuck those fuckers. I know they’re just doing their job, but since their job is to part me from money I don’t need to be spending on something I don’t need to be buying (not that that usually stops me!), as far as I’m concerned, they can go jump in a lake. So can telemarketers and door-to-door salesmen, for that matter. * * * Fred and I slept in THE SAME BED in Gatlinburg, did I mention? GASP! The first night sucked, because Fred just couldn’t get to sleep, and ended up hanging out in the living room, watching TV, and getting only about three hours of sleep. The second and third nights, though, were just fine. We both slept the whole night through, and slept well. I think it helped that the bed was king-size, and the mattress was pretty hard, so that if one of us moved the other couldn’t really feel it. I won’t lie, though: we were both really happy to get home to our own beds. It’s much easier to sleep when you don’t have to worry about waking up the other person in the bed. Also, once Fred goes off to his own bed, I can turn the light back on and read until I’m ready to go to sleep. Two thumbs up for separate beds! * * * The thing about going on vacation to a place in the Eastern Time Zone when you live in the Central Time Zone, just a week after Daylight Savings Time goes into effect, is that your body has no fucking clue what’s going on. I got up at 6:30 yesterday because I had to go feed the cats at the pet store, but on non-pet store days I like to sleep in until 8ish. This morning, though, I woke up when Fred was getting his clothes out of the dresser, stayed awake while he was in the shower, said goodbye to him, and made a good-faith effort to go back to sleep, but by 6:50 decided I might as well give it up. It’s 11:30 and I’ve done two loads of laundry, exercised, answered email, checked the checking account online, vaccumed the entire house, took my shower, got dressed, blow-dried my hair, went to the post office to mail a box, got a large Diet Coke at Burger King (mistake: it’s not nearly as good as McDonald’s Diet Coke), and now I’m halfway through my entry. Pretty good, I’d say. * * * The people in the post office – both customers and employees – moved so freakin’ slow this morning that after ten minutes I became pretty sure that Ashton Kutcher was going to pop out with his big,dumb, goony Kelso grin and tell me I’d been Punk’d. * * * I thought I’d killed Mister Boogers last night. I was laying on my stomach, and he was laying on top of the covers, between my legs – he just loves to pin me down like that. I half woke up and decided to roll over onto my side, only because I was still half-asleep I didn’t think it through, and so rolled over onto my side with Mister Boogers still between my legs. Basically, with the covers, I made a Booger burrito and sealed it closed with my legs. I was almost asleep again when Mister Boogers started frantically flailing around. Obediently, I rolled back onto my stomach, and he was exposed to the air again. Before I could come up with a good way to get onto my side without smothering Mister Boogers, I went back to sleep. About an hour later I woke up and decided to push Mister Boogers from between my legs so that he would be laying beside my leg – that’s usually what I do when I want to move from my stomach to my side, and he usually gets pissed off, chirrups at me, and stomps off to find a place to sleep, usually with the spud, who LOVES AND CHERISHES HIM in the manner to which he has become accustomed. I hate to upset the Booger, but I CANNOT SLEEP ON MY STOMACH ALL NIGHT LONG, PEOPLE. It hurts my BACK. Anyway. So I used my right leg to push the Boog over my left leg, and he just kind of slid over my leg and laid there without moving, as though he were DEAD. That woke me up, believe you me. I sat up and petted him. He woke up, gave me a confused and annoyed look, and stomped off to find a place to sleep where people wouldn’t wake him up by checking to make sure he wasn’t dead. I’m pretty sure I heard him mutter “Annoying goddamn people” under his breath as he went. * * * We keep the cat carrier under the desk by the garage door, because Miz Poo has to go to the vet regularly for her immunoregulan shot (for her lip). Every night, without fail, when we sit down to watch TV, I hear a thump, and look over to see The Boog hanging out in the box, waiting to see if we’re going to take him somewhere interesting. But we never do.]]>

An Isolated Incident. Recently finished: Country Comes to Town, Do You Want to Know a Secret?, and She’s Come Undone. To my great surprise, She’s Come Undone was better than I remembered it. I still think I Know This Much is True is better, though. Maybe I should reread that, just to be sure!

* * * So yes, we’re back from Gatlinburg! We left early Thursday morning, got there at lunchtime, and then left for home Sunday morning, getting home at lunchtime. It was a last-minute decision, spurred by the fact that we needed new Corelle dishes, and there’s a Corelle factory store in Pigeon Forge, and another in Sevierville. Plus, I was flat-out looking for an excuse to go to Gatlinburg. We couldn’t go over Memorial Day weekend, because my friend Liz will be visiting, and I remember that the year we went over the 4th of July, it was miserably swelteringly hot. So I looked at the calendar, picked a weekend, and harassed Fred until he agreed we could go. We rented a house this time – we were going to rent a room at our usual motel, but all the suites were taken – and it was absolutely perfect. It was a small house with two bedrooms, a hot tub, a two-person whirlpool tub off the living room, another (smaller) whirlpool tub in the master bedroom, two bathrooms, a sauna, and an absolutely kickass view. The view from the deck. I highly recommend staying at that house if you’re looking to rent a chalet in Gatlinburg. If you need more than a 2-bedroom, I highly recommend Mountain Rentals. We’ve rented from them three times so far, and it’s always been a good experience. The only downside is the scary drive up and down the mountain, and that you have to drive down the mountain and pay to park if you want to spend the day walking up and down the Parkway in Gatlinburg. The first thing we did when we hit Pigeon Forge was have lunch at The Alamo. While I was eating, I glanced up and saw a creepy sight: If that ain’t something to have nightmares about, I don’t know what is. All through Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge, there were these huge, fat bumblebees hovering. I mean, they were EVERYWHERE; I almost ran face-first into more than one. It was fun to watch the people walking down the street and then see them dance around, trying to get away from the bee. I took ten thousand pictures of the redbuds on the road between home and Gatlinburg because I was going to post the best, and ask y’all what it was called – we see them every Spring and talk about how pretty they are – but when we got home, Fred did a Google search and figured it out. On Friday, we visited Pigeon Forge – we always spend part of a day in Pigeon Forge – and walked by The Mill. From there, we walked down the street to the Smoky Mountain Cat House, where we petted a bunch of kitties, looked around, and bought some toys for the cats. I got pictures of some of the cats inside, which I’ll put up eventually, but the best picture I got was of a cat hanging around outside. He was a very sweet and friendly guy. While we were in Pigeon Forge, we went into the Corelle factory outlet to look for new plates. I knew that Corelle carries yellow plates and that’s what I thought we’d get, but my GOD, the PRICES on those plates! We opted, instead, to get a set of dishes that were on clearance because they’d discontinued the pattern. I wasn’t all that disappointed to not get yellow dishes, because I like the pattern on the plates we got, and we do have a set of yellow Fiesta plates and bowls. Which we never use, because I know that either the spud or I will drop a plate – or several plates – on the floor and will find glass shards for years and years to come. But the blue is pretty enough, and it’s a nice change from the black-and-white dishes we had before. (And no, the old dishes aren’t going on the giveaway page, because I am NOT going to deal with trying to ship the fuckers.) Saturday morning we left the house pretty early, and drove the Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. We actually drove it on Friday morning to check it out, and decided to go back Saturday morning when it would be sunny and we could get good pictures. I took about ten thousand pictures, some of which I’ll put up on a separate page at some point in the next few weeks, but I’ll share some of them with you today. Parts of the road were very very VERY scary, because they were so narrow, and on one side there’d be a steep hill, and on the other there’d be a seriously frightening sheer drop, and Fred drives LIKE A MANIAC, and I thought for sure we were going to go driving over the side and we’d all end up dead and y’all would never know what had happened to us. This picture doesn’t do justice to just how scary the road was, believe you me. And those pictures don’t even come close to doing justice to how beautiful and peaceful it was on that motor trail. We were watching The Corporation Saturday night – good movie, but long as hell; we still haven’t seen the last half-hour yet – and this guy came on the screen. I said “Hey look, baby! That guy has my eyebrows!” And Fred guffawed for ten minutes straight. There’s apparently a Fuccy Hauling Incorporated, and this truck had “Fuccy” on one side of the back of the truck, and “Fuccy” on the other side, and so every time we saw a Fuccy truck, Fred or I would say “Look! Fucky fucky!” Yes, we ARE 10 years old at heart. This good ol’ boy was riding in the back of a truck. He kept going from one side of the truck to the other, looking happy as hell, his ears flapping in the breeze. He was adorable. And that is my account of our trip to Gatlinburg. I left out the ten tons of candy we ate, but you can fill in that part on your own. Our big discovery this time was Bennett’s BBQ. We stopped there for lunch on a whim Friday, and liked it so much we went back Saturday. I highly recommend the pork shoulder and the fried green tomatoes. We also gave Texas Roadhouse a try, and the rolls and honey-cinnamon butter were VERY good. You can check out Fred’s account of our trip (and pictures) here. * * * “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m glad to have you home. Whatever.”]]>

Bontasia, who stole it from Say, who stole it from This Mom, who stole it from Bitchalicious. * V I T A L S * Name: Robyn Gender: Female Location: On my couch, in my living room, in my house, in Madison, Alabama. Height: For years I’ve been saying I’m 5’5 1/2″, but on a recent trip to the doctor they measured my height, and I found that I’m actually 5′ 4 1/2″. I’m shrinking! Hair color: Dark brown. Like this:

Yes, I am AWARE that I need to have my eyebrows waxed, thank you. Eye color: Sometimes bluish, sometimes greenish, sometimes in between. Is your hair long or short: It’s shortish, I guess. It’s a little longer than chin-length. Tattoos you have: I don’t have one, but if I were to get one, it would be a happy face on my right hip. * S C H O O L * Are you still in school: No, thank god. Favorite subject: Study hall! Least favorite subject: Math. Do/did you buy lunch or bring it: I usually make lunch at home (though I don’t have to bring it anywhere but from the kitchen to the table). A few times a week I get a Sonic grilled chicken salad. Yum! * F A V O R I T E * Number: 26 Clothing: My two-sizes too big Big Dog sweatshirt (dark blue), and my sheep pajama bottoms my sister gave me for Christmas. TV show: Desperate Housewives, Amazing Race, The Shield, Lost, Survivor, and Grey’s Anatomy. Fruit: Clementines. Movie: When Harry Met Sally. Scent: Vanilla. Ice Cream Flavor: French Vanilla. Color: Yellow! Season: Fall Holiday: Christmas! Thing in your room: My bookcase, with all the books I haven’t read yet. Author: Stephen King and Jennifer Weiner. TV channel: ABC! Shape: Uh… Nothing comes to mind! Time: 6:45 am on the mornings when I don’t have to get up until I want to, and can roll over and go back to sleep. State: Maine! Disney character: The Little Mermaid. I must have watched that movie ten million times when the spud was little. Scary movie: Oh, I’m not crazy about scary movies. I guess I’d say The Ring. * T H I S O R T H A T * Hot or cold: Cold. Winter or summer: Summer. Spring or fall: Fall. Shakira or Britney: Britney. MTV or VH1: VH-1 Country. Rollerblading or skateboarding: Uh… neither? I’d like to give rollerblading a try one day, though. Black or white: White (it shows the white cat hairs less) Orange or red: Orange. Yellow or green: Yellow. purple or pink: Purple. Cell phone or pager: Cell phone. Powerpuff Girls or Charlie’s Angels: Powerpuff Girls. I have a soft spot for Buttercup. Scooby Doo or Dino: Dino! * Y E S O R N O P E* Are you a vegetarian: No. Do you like cows: Sure. Are you a bitch: Sometimes. Are you artistic: No. Do you write poetry: Not seriously since I was in high school. The last poem I wrote was in February of 2004, in an attempt to illustrate the term “treacly poetry” and it went as follows: the poo, she howls a mournful sound the sky is gray and i am blue Can you ski: Barely. Are you British: Nope. Are you straight: Yep. Are you evil: Sometimes! Is Britney a whore: No, she’s just misguided, poor thing. * P R I V A T E * Have you ever been in love: Yes. Do you smoke: Not since I was 18, inhaled a lungful of cigarette smoke and coughed so hard I’m surprised my lungs didn’t go flying across the room. Why anyone would continue smoking after feeling pain like that is a mystery to me. Do you smoke weed: Nope. Crack, heroin, anything else: Nope. Beer good or beer bad: Beer sucks. I cannot stand the taste. Are you the sissy who drinks wine coolers: I’m the sissy who drinks Diet Coke. * T H E L A S T * Thing you ate: A sirloin chef salad from Steak-out. Thing you drank: Diet Coke. Place you went: To the post office to drop off giveaway packages. Thing you got pierced/tattooed: Uh.. my ears when I was 13. Song you heard: El Cerrito Place, by Charlie Robison. Person you instant messaged: God. I think it must have been Jane, last week or the week before. Person you laughed with: Fred, I’m sure. * N O W * What are you eating: Nothing. I just ate lunch an hour ago. What are you drinking: Water. Any shoes on: No, I’m wearing slippers. Hair: Um… what about it? It pretty much looks like that picture above, still. Listening to: The most recent Grey’s Anatomy. Talking to anyone: Nope. * L A S T * Last Cigarette: 19 years ago. Last Alcoholic Drink: I can’t for the life of me remember. I think Christmas of 2003 when I bought a 4-pack of Jack Daniel’s cocktails. Last Car Ride: A few hours ago, when I went to the bank and post office. Last Good Cry: It’s been a few months. Last Library Book: I don’t remember – it’s been a few years. Last book bought: I don’t knowwwwwwww. I belong to the Red Dress Ink book club, where I get two books from Red Dress Ink every month; I got my latest shipment last week. Last Book Read: Sammy’s Hill. Currently I’m reading She’s Come Undone. Last Movie Seen in Theatres: Something at Christmas time. National Treasure, I think. It wasn’t bad! Last Movie Rented: I’m waiting for Closer, The Corporation, and Sideways to come from Netflix; I think they’ll be here today. Last Cuss Word Uttered: Fuck, as in “What the fuck, Miz Pooty?” Last Beverage Drank: Last beverage finished: Diet Coke. Last beverage slurped: water. Last Phone Call: To Fred, to ask what our accountant’s last name is. He didn’t know, so I had to look at our tax return. Last TV Show: Grey’s Anatomy (it’s currently playing). Before that, a rerun of The Practice – the series finale. Last Time Showered: 9:30 am this morning. Last Shoes Worn: A pair of blue Keds slip-ons. Last CD Played: Bob Guiney – 3 Sides. (Shaddup) Last Item Bought: Stamps. Last Download: Don’t Break my Heart Again, by Pat Green. Last Annoyance: Miz Poo, carrying a toy from the other side of the house, keening the entire time. Last Thing Written: An email to Nance and Jane. Last Key Used: The key to E’gar! Last Sleep: Last night. Last Ice Cream Eaten: A McDonald’s ice cream cone. If you can call that ice cream. Last Chair Sat In: The one to my desk. Last Webpage Visited: The Usual Suspects. * * * Hey, remember back in October when I told y’all if there was something you wanted to see a picture of, to leave a comment and I’d take a picture of it? And then I never did anything about it? Well, here are some of the pictures I took months ago and never got around to putting up: My closet. The fridge and freezer. Click here to see the bigger picture. The front of the house. A scene in my town/ a shot representative of Madison. And across the street from the Kohl’s located in the middle of a cotton field, my favorite new place in Madison, because it’s adorable. It looks like a little cartoon building: Mojo to GoGo. Fred says the coffee is good, and that they have smoothies, too. The laundry room; you can see a corner of the container that holds the litter box over there on the right. Someone wanted to see the medicine cabinet. We don’t actually have a medicine cabinet; we use a shelf in the kitchen as our medicine cabinet. Me, vacuuming with the Dyson. Someone wanted to see my shoes. I wasn’t sure if they meant the shoes I own, or the shoes I was wearing. Above are some of my shoes. More shoes. The shoes I was wearing at the time. Under the kitchen sink. See here for the full-sized picture. Pictures that will be coming in the upcoming weeks: Me putting on my socks (I don’t know which of you freaks want to see THAT one) The house, from the back fence The inside of my purse The spud’s room Closeup of my desk and the surrounding area 3 new Tubby pics My favorite store My favorite place to eat If there’s something you want to see, leave a comment and I’ll see what I can do. ]]>

Amy is walking for the March of Dimes to raise money on premature baby birth research. Won’t you please please please go sponsor her? I KNOW you guys can help get her to her goal. Bitchypoo readers, unite!

* * * We’re off to Gatlinburg. Yeah, I didn’t mention it before now – it was sort of a last-minute thing. No time to write an entry, so I’ll toss up some pictures that have been hanging out on my hard drive, and call it an entry! We’ll be back Sunday, so entries should resume on Monday. See you then! Da Boog is pissy. Da Boog is sek-say. Da Boog is thinking about kicking that mouse’s ass. Da Boog is unbearably cute and cuddlesome. Daffodils! We had the ugly plastic edging taken up from around the front flower bed, and this awesome brick edging put down. I love the way it looks. That’s a cedar trunk Miz Poo is sitting next to. Sure looks like she’s trying to look inside it. Good luck to her. This is quite the slimming angle for Miz Poo. She hardly looks portly at all. “How YOU doin’?” (Check out Spot in the background) “Yeah, you.” “Come clooooooser.” Spanky examines his paw. Spot, with Spanky in the background. Spot, up close. Pretty boy. Fred took this cool picture the other day when it was storming. Click here to see the larger version. ]]>

reading: She’s Come Undone, still.

* * * Pet store kitty pics from Monday are hither. * * * From my comments: What is the picture above the washstand? It almost looks like Sacre Coeur in Paris, but I’m not sure. In fact, it is the Sacre Coeur in Paris – here’s a closeup of the picture – my mother and nephew went to Paris last year, and my mother picked up some pictures to give as gifts. I think the mat and frame go really well with the picture, and the picture really warms up the area. Hey, I am going to Gatlinburg this weekend with a friend and my 8 yr. old daughter. Anything you can suggest doing or atleast staying away from? Definitely, definitely check out the strip in Gatlinburg – there are lots of great little shops, and candy stores every three feet. I’d also recommend the Ripley’s Aquarium. The Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum is kind of hokey, but your daughter’s still young enough that she might like it. We like to ride to the top of the Space Needle to see what the town looks like from way up there, and we also like to ride the Sky Lift, which is basically a ski lift to the top of the mountain, where you look at overpriced souvenirs (don’t buy them up there – get them in town) and see what the town looks like from up there. As for shopping, other than the Parkway in Gatlinburg, there are a ton of shops in Pigeon Forge, not to mention a ton of factory outlets. As far as eating goes, I don’t think I’ve had a single unsatisfactory meal in Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge. If you’re staying overnight or showing up early in the morning, you’ve got to eat pancakes. There are pancake houses everywhere you look in Pigeon Forge and Gatlinburg and they always have lines coming out the door. I haven’t eaten pancakes in Gatlinburg yet, but I think you should, and let me know if they’re worth standing in line for. 🙂 I don’t know if you’re interested in seeing a show or not – we never have, but we always talk about it – but just from what I’ve seen in advertisements, I’d recommend The Comedy Barn, Black Bear Jamboree, or Dixie Stampede. I think all three offer dinner with the show. I hope that helps! Ooers…nice weighted bright yellow melamine plates at Mervyn’s and I thought of you, dahling. What’d you buy, afterall? Nothing yet – but we’re hoping to get something this weekend! * * * I told Fred I should get a personalized license plate that says “Eggar” (They don’t let you have apostrophes on license plates, do they?) and he told me I was a dork. Look at that banner up there at the top with Dorky McDorkster in his umbrella hat. WHO’S THE DORK NOW, BUDDY, HUH? * * * On Monday, after I fed and scooped at the pet store, I started itching all over. I had intended to try a child’s dose of Benadryl like someone suggested, but we had no Benadryl in the house at all. I stopped by Target to check out their pharmacy section, and decided while I was there to buy the groceries on my list, so I wouldn’t have to make a stop at Publix. Now, when you have an itch that’s not necessarily in a rude place, what do you do? That’s right, you scratch it. Keep that in mind. As I wandered all through Target, I scratched my face. I scratched my neck. I scratched my arms, and scratched my wrist so hard that it bled. Scratch-scratch-scratch. While I was checking out the Benadryl, I thought I’d look and see if there was anything new in the anti-itch ointment section. There was, in fact, something new. That something new was a little spray bottle, made by Benadryl. It said on the outside of the bottle that it relieves itching and pain associated with insect bites and rashes due to poison ivy, oak, and sumac. I was pretty sure that I had none of those problems, but decided to give it a try anyway. I bought it, bought my groceries, and came home. I had just put the groceries away and was going to come into the computer room, when I caught sight of the Benadryl spray. I grabbed it, opened it, and sprayed it on my face, which was still itching pretty badly. It stopped the itching, oh yes it did. Well, I don’t know that it actually “stopped” the itching, now that I think about it. No, I think that a more accurate description would be “covered the annoyance of itching by making your skin feel as though you’re being set on fire.” My GOD did it hurt. When I recovered from the screaming anguish long enough to look at the ingredient list, what did I find? Why, one of the primary ingredients in the spray was alcohol. And I’d been scratching my face all morning long. I’m no doctor, but I understand that applying alcohol to the rawness of a freshly-scratched area REALLY FUCKING HURTS. And now that I’ve done my own experimentation, I can confirm that that is true. I’ll tell you this, though: once the my-god-the-skin-is-burning-off-my-face agony passed, my face didn’t itch even once for the rest of the day. I guess it knows better. * * * Some extra kitty pics today, for Val who’s traveling and misses her kitties! The Boog loves love LOVES to stretch out on the bed in the guest bedroom. The guest bedroom is where Spot and the Boog can be found most days during the day. The Boog, looking cuddlesome. I was trying and trying and trying to get the Boog to yawn. I yawned so much I went lightheaded, but the little bastard would NOT yawn. Across the room, Spanky was watching us. I glanced up and said “How about you, Skitty-Boo? You going to yawn for me?” and he did. Immediately. SUCH a good kitty. ]]>

reading: She’s Come Undone. I actually read it way back when it first came out, before it was an Oprah book. I liked I Know This Much is True much better, but so many people love She’s Come Undone with such a passion that I think I may have missed something on the first read-through, so I’m reading it again. And someone in my comments asked how I liked Sammy’s Hill. I loved it! It was funny, because a klutzy, dorky main character? I can relate! Funny, interesting and a quick read. I gave it four smilies out of five on the reading list.

* * * So, last year when we went to Gatlinburg, Fred’s mother and stepfather came over to feed the cats a few times. When we got back, Fred went over to thank them and take them some coffee. “I noticed that you don’t have anything on the washstand,” Fred’s mother said. “If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back.” The washstand she was referring to was one that she’d given us a few years ago when she and her husband were getting ready to move into a smaller house. It belonged to Fred’s great-grandmother, and may even have belonged to his great-great grandmother, we’re not sure. Anyway, when we brought the washstand home, we put it upstairs against the small bit of wall between the spud’s bedroom and the guest bedroom. We hung a picture over the washstand, and considered our decorating complete. I had no idea that leaving the top of the washstand bare meant that you didn’t appreciate the washstand. I mean, we like the washstand! We put blankets in the bottom of the washstand! I polish it lovingly every six weeks or so! A few weeks ago I said to Fred, “We should hit some antique stores and see if we can’t find a pitcher and bowl set for the top of the washstand.” Fred said, “We need to get a towel to hang from the bar, too.” “I’ve got that covered,” I said. “I bought a kit to cross-stitch a towel that will work on the bar.” This past Saturday, the spud wanted to go to the mall, and it was such a beautiful bright, sunny day that Fred and I decided that I would drop the spud off at the mall, come back home, and then Fred and I would go out and hit the antique stores to find just the right thing for the top of the washstand. We ended up hitting four – maybe five – different antique stores, and holy CRAP are pitcher and bowl sets EXPENSIVE. We saw a ton of them, and most of them were absolutely hideous not to mention hundreds of dollars. Y’all know me – do I LOOK like I want to spend hundreds of dollars on something that will have no real function in the house except to sit there and look pretty (and isn’t a book)? What’s the deal with all the horrifically ugly pitcher and bowls, anyway? All we wanted was a simple single-color pitcher and a bowl that went with it; nothing with flowers painted all over it, nothing with multiple colors. We thought about buying a pretty McCoy vase we saw in one of the antique stores, and then Fred suggested that we could put a plate on a stand on the washstand (I don’t know why he thought that would be a good idea – I thought that sort of thing would look funny). We poked around several antique stores between Madison and Athens, stopped at Subway for lunch, and then went to Decatur. We found a couple of not-bad but too-expensive sets at the first store we went to, and then walked down the street to the other antique store. We saw a perfect set as soon as we walked in the door, but it was four hundred dollars. “Maybe we should just go home and look on eBay,” I said. “Let’s just look a little more,” Fred said. And then we found the perfect set. The pitcher was plain white and the bowl was blue and white. They clearly weren’t meant to go together, but that didn’t really matter to us; they went together well enough. It was priced at ninety dollars. Fred offered them $75 in cash, and they hesitated only a moment before they accepted. See, this is why I love my husband so much. I DO NOT dicker. I would never dicker over anything, and I would never think to offer the owner of a store less money in cash, because I would be afraid of offending them. If I go to a garage sale and see something I want? I pay the marked price. Fred, on the other hand, figures there’s no harm in asking. We came home, put the bowl and pitcher set on the washstand, admired it, and then went to take a nap. The owner of the store said that she thought the bowl was from about the 1860s and the pitcher from 1880 or so. We had so much fun poking through the antique stores that I think we’re going to do it again soon. I saw a bunch of bowls like the ones my grandmother had, which makes me want to start collecting them. Oh, don’t give me that look. There’s nothing wrong with liking to look around in antique stores! * * * My husband sure does crack me up. To: Fred From: Robyn Subject: Geez. (Name deleted – you don’t know him) is such a jerk. When did he turn into such an asshat? To: Robyn From: Fred Subject: Re: Geez I don’t think he ‘turned into’ an asshat; he was born one. We’re just seeing a different side of the brim now. * * * When will I realize that bangs just aren’t my thing? This hairstyle looks cute on Wendy Shanker, but really doesn’t quite work for me. Of course, I just had my hair colored and cut; therefore, it’ll never be styled like this again. At least not for another six weeks, when it’ll be time for another color and cut! * * * The Happiest! Cat! In! The! World! ]]>

reading: She’s Come Undone. Finished recently: Spitting Feathers and Sammy’s Hill.

* * * Someone posted in my comments the other day and left a link to a quiz to see what breed of dog you are. My results? I’m a Keeshond. Origins Netherlands. Pronounced “kayshond” this dog has also been known as the Fik, Foxdog, Dutch Barge Dog and even the Overweight Pomeranian in Victorian England. Its modern name comes from the 18th century rebel Dutchman Kees de Gyselaer. Like other spitz, the Keeshond is believed to derive from Arctic dogs but in Holland it became popular as the companion/ watchdog of barges. Personality Good natured and long lived; this breed tends to be devoted to one person, acting courageously on their behalf. I can’t really argue with the results! * * * Pet store kitty pics from last Monday are here. I’m sure the ones from this week will be up sometime this week. Or… maybe next Monday! Who knows? * * * Sometimes it pays to be on the notify list. This went out to the notify list on March 25th: Update on the car situation: We haven’t actually given up on the salesman making this right. Fred thought he’d figured out a loophole: there was a note on the dealership’s page saying that you could return the car within 3 days or 300 miles and they’d fully refund the purchase price of the car. Well, I’ve put 302 (!) miles on the car, so Fred called Salesguy and pointed out the loophole (telling him I’d put less than 300 miles on the car, the liar) and Salesguy sputtered and then Fred started, well, I’d call it needling the guy. Because at this point we’ve got the silver car, we’re making payments on it – what’s Salesguy going to do, come take the car back? Obviously NOT. And then Fred found Salesguy’s soft spot. Salesguy is (or was, I’m not sure which) the #1 salesman in the country; he even has a plaque stating that in his office. So Fred said “Is this how you became the number one salesman in the country? By dicking over your customers?” Salesguy lost his shit, sputtering and swearing. Saying he was still trying to make it right, he’d been losing sleep over it, he didn’t know what Fred wanted him to DO, he was doing his best! “If you want to make it right, eat the cost,” Fred said. “Eat the cost, give us what we want, and make it right.” Heh. Yeah, it’s a safe bet Salesguy wasn’t going to go for that, right? Salesguy said “I’ll call you back!” and basically hung up on Fred. “I’m sure he’ll never call back,” Fred said, and I agreed. A few hours later, Fred called. “Salesguy called,” he said. “He wanted to know, if he could find a brand-new ’04 yellow hatchback if you’d take that instead. The payment would actually go down a little. I told him I didn’t think so, but I’d check with you.” And you know what? I said “Actually, I think I would.” See? I can be flexible! (Does anyone else hear Ouiser Boudreaux saying “I AM PLEASANT!”?) Yes, he’d suggested an ’04 hatchback in yellow before, but I actually thought that I was going to get the sedan and have it painted yellow (I just like the back end of the sedan more than the back end of the hatchback, to be honest), so I turned down the hatchback. But now? I’ll take the hatchback. Fred called Salesguy and said “She said she’d be willing, but we’ll want to test-drive it first.” and Salesguy said “I’ll start looking!” I know, I know. I’m not holding my breath – chances are good that we’ll never hear from him again, but it could happen. If it does, then I own a yellow car. If it doesn’t, then I own a silver car, and you know what? The spud’s going to be looking for a job when she gets back from Maine at the end of the summer and assuming she gets one, we can refinance the car for long enough that the payment is affordable for her (we’d only make her pay half, actually), and she could have the silver car, and I? I’d get another car. So it’s all good. And like I’ve been saying to Fred, the car’s starting to grow on me. I still don’t care for the color, but I could add enough yellow touches (I don’t know that I’ll go for flames, though! Heh.) to make it mine. Anyway, so that’s what’s going on right now. I’ll keep y’all updated on how it’s going. And then on the 29th, I said: The news on the car: I went this weekend and drove an ’04 hatchback. On the inside it’s very similar to the sedan, and it drove pretty much the same. I really don’t care for the look of the hatchback – it looks like the car was in a freak accident wherein the back end was chopped off – but it’s the right shade of yellow, and I can learn to like the look of it, I think. Salesguy has located a yellow ’04 with 78 miles on it in Wisconsin. They’re picking it up today and hopefully it will be here in a few days. I’m still not holding my breath – I won’t really believe it’s going to happen until it actually happens, you know? I’ll be glad to get this done and taken care of one way or the other, though! I have some Hawaiian smiley-face stickers an awesome reader in Hawaii sent me, and I’m dying to stick them to my car! And then Friday evening, look what Fred brought me home: The more I look at it, the more I like it. It has a few things that the sedan (the silver car) didn’t have – a windshield wiper on the back, for one, and unlike the silver car, it doesn’t have a hissy fit and start dinging at me if I take my seatbelt off while the car is running. I mean, seriously – I’d be sitting in the driveway with car in park and would take my seatbelt off, and the silver car would have a conniption. This car? He doesn’t so much care. I think I’m going to name him Edgar. Pronounced “E’gar”, the way the chick from Men in Black pronounced it, when she talked about the alien wearing an E’gar suit. Can you imagine how much fuss could have been prevented if I’d just agreed to an ’04 yellow hatchback in the first place when Salesguy suggested it way back at the beginning, before he turned into a big liar and said I could get the sedan painted for less than $1000? But then, what would I have spent the last month bitching about? * * * “She’s a lying bitch. I DO NOT spend every moment of the day lickinglickinglicking and driving her flat out of her mind. I don’t!” ]]>

Bonnie. (Jolie, the logo you made me will be going up in May!)

* * * I cannot believe how many of you fell for yesterday’s entry. Y’all totally made my day, you know that? In case you didn’t figure it out before now, no. I am not pregnant, and I’m especially not pregnant with twins. I’m sorry to disappoint – some of you got REALLY excited, didn’t you? I thought for sure you’d twig to the fact that it was an April Fool’s joke when I put up the ultrasound of twins. Yeah, it would have been funny if it was true, but to be honest, if it WAS true, I would have written the entry on any other day EXCEPT April first. Don’t you know you can’t believe anything on April Fool’s Day? I’ve gotten suckered in so many times in the past that I have April 1st marked in bright red so I know better. I was actually not going to put up an entry yesterday. Fred and I were talking about it, and I said “I could say I was pregnant…” and we talked about it for a few minutes, and finally I said “Nah, I’d better not. I don’t want to get anyone mad at me!” But then I checking my email yesterday morning, and there was a notify email from Carrie. Carrie’s done (I think) three years of April Fool’s entries (my favorite is this one), and I’ve never believed them – see above about the first of April being marked in red – but I always enjoy them. I clicked on her “year ago” entry and saw the sonogram of the twins, and I called Fred and said “What if I said I was pregnant with twins?” Honestly, y’all. It was so over-the-top I never thought anyone would believe it. I fielded about twenty emails from you guys asking if it was true. That cracks me up. So, no. Not pregnant. I hope none of you are terribly disappointed or angry. Don’t feel bad if you did get suckered in – I had Fred proofread the entry before I posted it, and he said “You tell a good story. I almost believe it, and I know it’s not true!… is it?” Heh. I found the picture of the positive EPT test and the sonogram on Google Image search. Fred used his mad photo skillz to put my name, the date, and the time on the sonogram – apparently it was pretty difficult, because he had to create an “n” out of thin air. It looked pretty real, didn’t it? Fred is da bomb. * * * “Urrrrp. Oh! ‘Scuse me!” The come-hither look. “I like to lick my arm and then sniff it…” “I will NOT yawn for you, woman! Stop trying to make me!” * * *]]>

Kaycee Nicole!” “Bessie,” Fred said. “GO SEE THE FUCKING DOCTOR.” He’d suggested it several times before, but this time he was adamant. “I don’t want to!” I said. “She’ll tell me I have leukemia, and you’ll insist that they unplug me!” “Maybe it’s your thyroid levels,” he said. “Maybe your iron levels are low. Go see the doctor, or I’ll hire a someone big and scary to haul your ass to the doctor at gunpoint.” “FINE,” I said. “I’ll call and make an appointment tomorrow!” Later that night, my sister called. We hadn’t spoken in a few weeks, so we talked for quite a while. I ended up telling her about the heartburn and about the sleepiness. She was quiet for a long time, which scared me a little. She’s not a medical professional, but she’s worked in a doctor’s office for several years; maybe something was striking a chord in her mind? “I told Fred I think it’s leukemia!” I joked uncomfortably. She didn’t laugh. “Actually, it sounds like something else to me,” she said. “You’re going to think I’m crazy…” “Oh, god. What??” I demanded. And then she told me.

“This is what I get,” I said to Fred, who was pretty much non-responsive for an hour after I told him and showed him the test. “This is what I get for writing an entry telling people we weren’t having a baby. I was probably already pregnant!” “Does this mean I don’t need to get a vasectomy?” Fred joked after he came out of his fugue state. “This means I’m going to perform the vasectomy with a rusty knife!” I said. “I’ve been on the pill for eight fucking years!” “Remember what you said?” Fred reminded me. “Remember when you said that if you got pregnant when you were on the pill or after I had the vasectomy, it would be a sign that we were really meant to have a baby?” “I WAS JOKING.” And then I was struck with a thought. “Oh my god, I’ve been taking the pill and I’m on Toprol! Could that hurt the baby?” We looked on Google. Google had nothing to offer. I called my doctor, who told me that there were no long-term studies of pregnant women on Toprol. She referred me to a local obstetrician, who decided to do some blood tests and an ultrasound. She wanted to do an amnio, but those are safer once I pass 15 weeks, so we’re going to wait on that. I’m about ten weeks along, by the way. So on Wednesday, Fred and I went to the other side of Huntsville, sat in a waiting room until my bladder was thisclose to bursting and I was thisclose to crying due to the pressure on my bladder. The ultrasound technician called us back to the room about half an hour after the appointed time. How I didn’t pee my pants, I do not know. I settled on the table, Fred next to me, and the ultrasound was performed. Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe that copy of the ultrasound doesn’t make it obvious. Let me clear it up for you, shall I? God isn’t laughing. God is laying on the ground, clutching his stomach with tears rolling down his face, guffawing. * * * “You don’t think I’m going to babysit for you, do you? Because I have NO INTEREST in being a big brother.” ]]>