Be Cool yesterday – after trying to return movies to the wrong movie store; talk about feeling like a dumbass – and we watched it last night. It was a good movie, though it felt a tad too long.
I’m happy, though – I got to make my “Twinkle, twinkle, baby! Twinkle, twinkle!” wav and have it set up so that whenever I get email, it plays. I’m sure I’ll get tired of it at some point, but right now it makes me giggle like the fool I am.
That girl who played Linda Moon – Christina Milian – is just cute as a button. I was positive she had to be a singer I had heard of before, but her name isn’t familiar to me. She has an awesome set of pipes, though.
The Rock was hilarious, and when Fred was looking through the extras he found that there was an entire video of The Rock singing You Ain’t Woman Enough to Take My Man. Lordy, it was AWFUL, but funny as hell.
* * *
Fred is currently in the process of being approved for a security clearance, because apparently those in charge of your tax dollars feel that after he’s been doing the same job for 13 years, it’s time that they do a background check. He met with the background investigator yesterday and called to tell me that the investigator told him that he’d need to meet with me to ask me some questions.
Apparently they usually forgo meeting with the spouse and family of the person being investigated, since obviously there’s some bias there, but they have to have a certain number of “social contacts” when they do an investigation, and since Fred’s daily social contacts outside of work consist of me, me, and – oh yeah! – me, the investigator needed to talk to me.
I was on my way home from Sam’s when the investigator called on my cell phone, and we made plans to meet at the house at 2. I was just finishing lunch at 1:45 when he arrived. We sat down at the table, and he asked me questions for fifteen minutes or so and I answered them.
The first question? How we met, and how our relationship progressed from then to now. And I suddenly got extremely nervous and began to sweat AND THEN COULDN’T REMEMBER OUR ANNIVERSARY FOR AN ENTIRE MINUTE. I did this frantic mental dance where I was all “Did we get married in March? June? December? WHEN? WHEN?”
At some point – I think the question was about how reliable Fred is – I yammered on and on about how we’d been watching White Noise Saturday night, and Michael Keaton’s wife (character’s wife, that is) went out with a friend and midnight came and went and he was mildly concerned, and Fred turned to me and said “We must be weird. If you were, like, TEN minutes late, I’d be worried.” and I said “I’d be worried if YOU were ten minutes late, too.” Because he’s so good about letting me know where he is and when he’ll be home, you see. And I finished up the story with “Because he’s always where he says he’ll be, and if he’s going to be late, he calls.”
By this time the investigator’s eyes had glazed over, and he was clearly thinking “This has WHAT to do with reliability?” and he pretended to write down what I’d said, but clearly was writing something like
No wonder he has no other social contacts. His wife cannot be let out into polite society because she is clueless about how to answer a simple question, and so he must spend all his time keeping an eye on her stupid ass.
But all in all, it wasn’t too traumatic, and he was only here for about fifteen minutes. At the end of the interview (“He’s fleein’ the interview!”), we had a short discussion about whether our neighbors would be home – they have to speak to our neighbors on either side of us, you see, the ones with whom we’ve traded about ten words total in the 3 1/2 years we’ve lived here – and I pointed to one side of the house and said “She might be home, I’m not sure what her schedule is like”, and he said “What’s her name?”, and I had to say “I have no idea.”
I should have added, “But their dog’s name is Bruiser!”
* * *
So as I mentioned up there somewhere, I went to Sam’s yesterday. And did you feel the earth shift on it’s axis? Because for the FIRST TIME EVER, I walked out of there having spent less than $100.
I’m still a little dazed and shocked. Who knew that you could get a bunch of bottled water, a big-ass box of Splenda, and a pack of sponges for less than $100? WHAT A BARGAIN.
* * *
The kitten section.
You know why we’re not going to keep any of the foster kittens? Because there is NO WAY ON EARTH I could pick just one or even just two of them. Every time I think I’ve got a favorite, another one does something that just steals my heart. Today, my favorite is Oy. He comes over to me, bites my hand until I roll him over onto his back, and then kicks his legs while I rub his belly. He loves to pretend he hates the belly rubs, but he keeps on coming back for them.
The other kittens have fur that feels like cotton balls, but Oy’s is soft and silky. Also, Oy is one of the two kittens (Snoopy being the other one) that has purred when I held him. He doesn’t purr every time, and he doesn’t purr for long, but he does purr.
And then I see Flossie’s worried little face, and I think “She is just unbearably cute. SHE’s my favorite.”
And so on.
Peanut, doing the cute-n-cuddly thing.
These kittens just adore my feet. I have no idea what’s up with that.
Flossie, being chewed upon by Edgar.
Oy, taken by surprise.
Sleepy little Snoopy. Three seconds after I snapped this picture, he struggled out of my arms and bounced across the room to sink his teeth into Flossie’s belly.
Oy. Everything surprises him.
Oy, playing with his very favorite toy. These plastic rings were probably the best investment I’ve ever made.
“Awww, Momma, come down! We’ll be good! I won’t bite your tail again, I promise!”
Today’s movie is
here. I call it “Momma Love.” There’s a weird jump in the middle where I screwed something up, but it’s hardly noticeable.
I’m such an ace filmmaker.
New movie up tomorrow.
* * *
Is there anything happier than a Spanky in the sunshine? I think NOT.
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