Archive for December, 2006

Merry Christmas!

by @ Sunday, December 24th, 2006. Filed under Life

Christmas 2005. Christmas 2006. Merry Christmas, one and all! I’m off to Gatlinburg in the morning and will be back on Friday. Don’t expect an entry ’til January 1st at the very soonest, though! PS: The picture we managed to get wherein we all looked a tad addled:

(They might have been doing it on purpose, but I wasn’t!)


by @ Friday, December 22nd, 2006. Filed under Life

* * * The Nebshit Game – Christmas Edition! 1. Do you have a favorite Christmas tradition? Back when I was living close to my parents, we’d have Chinese food for dinner on Christmas Eve. I kind of miss that. 2. When do you open gifts – Christmas Eve or Christmas morning? Fred and I open our gifts to each other on Christmas Eve and the rest of our gifts on Christmas morning. Because the spud gets so many gifts from her father and California grandparents, we let her open her gifts from them on Christmas Eve so we won’t be spending the entire day sitting and watching her open gifts. 3. What is your favorite Christmas cookie? I like those Kiss Surprise cookies, but I don’t know if they’re considered Christmas cookies. I also am fond of sugar cookies. There haven’t been many cookies in my life this holiday season. I’ll have to see if I can snag me a cookie at some point this weekend. 4. Real tree or fake? Fake fake fakety-fake. And that’s the way I like it! The less I have to deal with the tree, the better. At this point, all I’m doing is picking up ornaments in the morning and putting them back on the tree, but the cats are mostly leaving the tree alone. 5. Do you want something for Christmas that you know you will not get? A new laptop. A Sidekick. A video iPod. World peace. 6. What’s the worst gift you ever got at Christmas time? I don’t remember any particularly bad gifts, actually. I was never that crazy about getting clothes when I was a kid – and I’m still not. I prefer to pick out my own clothes. 7. Do you write thank you cards for Christmas gifts? It’s kind of spotty. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. 8. Do you get a Christmas bonus at work? I NEVER get a Christmas bonus. I should quit! 9. How old were you when you found out the truth regarding Santa Claus? Embarrassingly old – like 12 or 13. And my cousin, who was a year younger, told me. I only believed in Santa so long because I was POSITIVE there was no way on earth my parents would spend that much money on us, so there had to be a Santa. Heh. 10. Do you buy your boss a Christmas gift? I have no boss. I am my own boss! Wait. I should totally buy my boss a laptop! Or world peace, whichever’s cheaper.

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Wednesday, after I dropped the kittens off at the pet store, I went on a mission to find a sweater to wear on Christmas Eve. I used to wear the same blue turtleneck sweater every year, but it got too big for me. I thought about wearing the fleece shirt I wore on Thanksgiving, but I wanted to get something new. Fred said, more than once, “You should get you an appliqued sweatshirt with a teddy bear on front! Now that we’re moving to the country, you need to start dressing country!” and I would say to him “Oh, shut UP. Teddy bears aren’t my thing, and neither are appliqued sweatshirts.” I checked out Target and found nothing that worked for me, so headed over to Dress Barn. I found a sweater there I really liked, but they didn’t have it in my size, so I headed over to The Avenue. They had sweaters I really liked, the same sweater in ten different colors, but despite the fact that it SAYS right on the store that they carry sizes 14 and up, I couldn’t find a single sweater in anything smaller than an 18/20. So I headed over to Goody’s, looked around for a long time, and finally found a couple of sweaters I liked. I couldn’t decide between the two, so I bought them both (they were extremely inexpensive) with the idea that Fred could choose which one I wore. I was headed to the cash register when something caught my eye. I dithered for a few minutes, then grabbed it up and went to check out. When Fred got home, I said “I got a present for you, but it’s something I wear!” “Oh, REALLLLLLLY,” he said. “Yeah, hold on…” I went into the hallway, took it out of the bag, and put it on. And he laughed and laughed and laughed. Jane?
It burns, Jane! The applique, IT BURRRRRRRRNS!
(Fred chose the blue sweater, which I expected he would. You’ll see pictures of it at some point, I’m sure.)
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In my comments yesterday Ginny said, in part: Do they make hypoallergenic cats??? I know you were just joking, but I present to you the kind of cat Fred’s been harassing me to get for years and years: The Sphynx. They’re incredibly ugly, and over my dead body will I let Fred get one, but I’m thinking a cat with no fur is a cat who won’t mess with your allergies. Ooh and one more thing before I end this book of a comment. We have 3 dogs and in our state (Kansas), they have a stupid law that says if you own more than 2 dogs, you have to have a permit and pay $20.00 a year. Do they have a law like that for cats? Since you own 6 I was curious if they made you pay a yearly permit fee on them. I do not know, and to be honest – I’m not going to check and find out, because if I know we’re supposed to pay a yearly permit fee for them, Fred will surely make me go down to city hall and pay the damn permit fee, and I think we pay enough in vet bills every year that we damn well shouldn’t have to pay extra for them. GODDAMN GOVERNMENT. WHAT BUSINESS IS IT OF THEIRS IF WE HAVE SIX CATS? THEY CAN ALL GO STRAIGHT TO HELL! I’LL PAY A PERMIT FEE FOR MY CATS WHEN THEY PRY THE MONEY OUT OF MY COLD, DEAD HAND. Also in my comments, Rhys asked about Maddy. Maddy, as y’all know, was adopted by Nance, and you can see a current picture of Miss Thang right here. Isn’t the change amazing? She doesn’t even look like the same cat. Can you believe this cat and the cat on Nance’s page is the same one?
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“What’s he doing? Doesn’t he know I have cooties??”   “I’ve got the litter-on-my-nose, needin-a-snack, my-brother’s-pickin-on-me, I-need-a-snuggle, please-stop-messing-with-my-fur…”   “…bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuues!”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.   *******************************************   “Tell me ’bout how them stinkin’ kittens are never comin’ back, Momma.”    
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Previously 2005: I’m a creature of habit, what can I say? 2004: No shit, Matt. Ya think? Ya think she might like to eat? 2003: “You are NOT allowed in Maine!” I informed him. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Except for world peace and all that. Yadda, yadda. 1999: No entry.]]>


by @ Thursday, December 21st, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life

hash brown casserole recipe is here. I must have made that a LONG time ago, because I don’t even remember eating it.)

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If the person interested in the song sung by Chemda (of Keith and the Girl fame) wanted to email me, I might find my way clear to making a copy of the CD I bought off eBay and sending it your way (since it’s no longer available in the stores or anywhere online). You’ve gotta make at least a $5 donation to KATG in return, though, or buy something from their store. I’m considering asking Fred to get me the KATG hoodie for my birthday.
* * *
I’ve been tagged by Denise. The explanation: Obligatory intro: According to the rules…Each player of this game starts with the ‘6 weird things about you’. People who get tagged need to write a BLOG of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don’t forget to leave a comment that says ‘you are tagged’ in their comments and tell them to read your BLOG. 1. I desperately want to use the word “frippery” in a casual conversation, but I just can’t seem to make it fit in any of the conversations I’ve had recently, damnit. 2. I love peas. I LOVE PEAS. There’s no casserole on earth that won’t be improved by the addition of peas – preferably baby peas. I know that not everyone loves peas – my friend Liz reacts to unexpected peas in casseroles as if they are a personal affront and I think she fully believes that wars should be launched over the existence of peas – but I do. LOVE THEM. 3. There’s blog I am aware of, but do not read, that lists me under a column entitled “People who link to me.” I have never linked to this person, and sometimes I absolutely FUME that she has listed me as linking to her when I NEVER HAVE. I have no idea why it pisses me off so much, but it really really does. (Note: I don’t dislike the blog or the person, I just don’t read her, because I’m chronically behind in the journal/ blog reading I already do and don’t have room in my life for another blog unless I absolutely adore it.) (Note also: I fume about it, but I don’t email the person and ask her to take me off her list, because I know how fucking petty it is that it bothers me so.) 4. I can wiggle my ears like nobody’s business. If my ears were a little bigger, I do not doubt I’d be the Incredible Flying Woman. And to prove my ear-wiggling prowess, I present to you a movie I like to call “What a freakin’ dork” (you can really only see the ear on the left side of the screen wiggling, but trust me – they’re both flapping back and forth to beat the band): I was all amused by myself at the end because I got confused between wiggling my ears and raising my eyebrows. I’m a mental giant, is what I am. (Direct link here) 5. It doesn’t matter how many books I have
Books I own and have not yet read.
I always want MORE. It’s an illness. (Nance can attest to this one) 6. When I’m concentrating on something – usually reading – I wiggle my toes and my lower lip at the same time. Toes go left, lower lip goes left. Toes go right, lower lip goes right. I’d offer up a movie of that, but I’m afraid I’ve blow my badass cred already with the ear-wiggling thing. As far as tagging six people, well, if you’re reading this, consider yourself tagged! Or if you want me to tag you, let me know and I will. How’s that?
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When I went to make that ear-wiggling movie above, I discovered that I had quite a bit of Maddy footage that I didn’t even realize I had. I edited it together (poorly) and here ’tis: (Direct link here) Damn, I miss that evil little brat.
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A few months ago, after I posted this entry and said I will be so thrilled to see the ass end of him that I will most likely do the goddamn Cabbage Patch as he goes down the driveway., I got a couple of comments and some emails suggesting I post a movie or pictures of myself doing the Cabbage Patch. I don’t currently have a movie to offer you, but rest assured that I haven’t forgotten the request.
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I took the Christmas kittens to the pet store yesterday afternoon, and I was so proud of them. Unlike two weeks ago when I first got them, they were a little scared, but also very curious, so they didn’t huddle in the carrier and hiss at me. They wanted the hell OUT of that cage, of course, but they didn’t look terrified, and in the time I was there a lot of people stopped and exclaimed over how cute they were. (Before I left the house, I had to use my manicure scissors to trim some of the fur from around Jack’s behind, because the thing about longhaired kittens is that they tend to get nasty stuff stuck in their fur, and there was some nasty stuff stuck in Jack’s hair that I couldn’t just pull out with a baby wipe. Poor Jack. I also took the cat brush into the room with me yesterday morning to see how they’d react to being brushed, and they LOVED IT, Jack especially.) The volunteer who was there to clean the cages and I got to talking, and I discovered that she has fourteen cats. FOURTEEN. I said to Fred, “I know you think we have too many cats, but -” Fred said, “Whatever you’re about to say, keep in mind that I’m STILL going to think we have too many cats.” I said, “But (the volunteer) has fourteen cats. FOURTEEN.” “And we still have too many cats.” “Compared to her, though, we barely have any cats at ALL.” “And that’s still too many.” Hmph. When you give little kittens a lovely little snack before you brutally snatch them up and put them in a carrier to leave them in a cage where strangers will peer at them and exclaim over their loveliness, do not be surprised if they are so taken with the yumminess of said snack that they do the following: (A little bit of plain yogurt, and they were licking their lips for 45 minutes.) “Oh NO SHE DI’INT!” “Bob! Bob!! BOB! Dude, I need me some of that primo catnip like you gave me last ni- What? YES it’s already gone. There are five of us, you think I’m not going to share? Okay well, maybe I didn’t WANT to share, but I didn’t have a choice. Those girls held me down and threatened to kiss me if I didn’t share, and I do believe you’re aware that all females are infested with cooties, yes? I need the strongest ‘nip you have, my fine man. Stat!” “::Urrrp!:: Oh! ‘Scuse me. I’m still a little buzzed from last night. I think I got high and chased Kringle around and told him I was going to give him a slammin’ case of the cooties if he didn’t share, I can’t quite remember. It’s a bit of a blur.” Merry “Addled” Kitten is the new poster kitten for the upcoming “Just Say No” program. All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. PS: I swung by the pet store this morning and Merry and Noelle had been adopted. Kringle, Jack Frost, and Faith were hanging out calmly in their cage, looking not scared at ALL. I thought about popping in for a quick cuddle, but thought that might get them worked up and sad, so I didn’t.
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Previously 2005: I imagine that when all three of our phones are in the same vicinity, we’ll get them confused and hijinx will ensue. 2004: Reader questions, answered. 2003: “Um, no,” I told Fred when he asked. “And not only no, but HELL no, and I’ll be out of the house whenever they come to interview you and tape you exercising and all that goofy-ass shit.” 2002: No entry. 2001: I guess he defines “tension” as “getting drunk and pawing every female in sight.” 2000: I practically woke up screaming, I tell you. 1999: Suddenly, it occurs to me that nestled next to my underwear is not the best place to put a bag of very potent catnip.]]>


by @ Wednesday, December 20th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life

Jenn. In 2007… 1. Will you be looking for a new job? I don’t plan to, but never say never! 2. Will you be looking for a new relationship? HELLZ no. 3. New house? Hopefully we’ll be done with the renovatin’ in six weeks or so (I just pulled that out of my butt; it could be sooner, could be later). 4. What will you do different in 07? I will answer all my frickety-frackin’ email within two days of receiving it. NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTION HIGH-FIVE! 5. New Years resolution? Oh. Well, see above. 6. What will you not be doing in 07? Letting my email languish, unanswered, in my inbox. Procrastinating, in general. (But I’ll think about that another day… Har!) 7. Any trips planned? Not at the moment, no. 8. Wedding plans? Nope, not at all. 9. Major thing on your calendar? Uh… moving to Smallville’s the only thing I can think of, and there’s no set date for that. 10. What can’t you wait for? Moving to Smallville! 11. What would you like to see happen different? I like the way my life unfolded this year, actually. 12. What about yourself will you be changing? Nothing comes to mind. 13. What happened in 06 that you didn’t think would ever happen? I had weight loss surgery on January 30th. And I fit into size 14 jeans in November! 14. Will you be nicer to the people you care about? Oh, I’ll try. I don’t know how successful I’ll be. 15. Will you dress differently this year than you did in 06? I don’t plan to. The teenage boy look works for me, I think. 16. Will you start or quit drinking? Neither. Don’t drink, not interested in starting. 17. Will you better your relationship with your family? It works pretty well for me, for the most part. 18. Will you do charity work? I’ll continue fostering and cleaning at the pet store, though that seems less like charity work and more like selfish work I really really really like to do. 19. Will you go to bars? Why would I start now? Is it time for a mid-life crisis? Seriously, nothing bores me more than the thought of hanging out at a bar. 20. Will you be nice to people you don’t know? Not any nicer than I already am. 21. Do you expect 07 to be a good year for you? Absolutely! 22. How much did you change from this time last year till now? I lost 148.5 pounds and… oddly enough, that’s about all that’s changed about me. Attitude-wise, personality-wise, most everything-wise, I’m pretty much the same. 23. Do you plan on having a child? HELLZ no. Just the one is fine with me. 24. Will you still be friends with the same people you are friends with now? I don’t see why not. 25. Major lifestyle changes? Moving from a house in the ‘burbs to a house in the country. 26. Will you be moving? Yes. And I can’t wait! 27. What will you make sure doesn’t happen in 07 that happened in 06? Hopefully my gallbladder won’t be coming out again. But if anyone could possibly have their gallbladder removed twice, you’re lookin’ at her. 28. What are your New Years Eve plans? To be in bed by 10 and asleep by 11:30. 29. Will you have someone to kiss at midnight? If I want to go into the next room and shake him awake, yes. Otherwise, I’ll have to smooch on Sugarbutt, Miz Poo, or Mister Boogers (all of whom sleep with me every night) and call it good enough. 30. One wish for 07? That it rocks nearly as much as 06 did!

* * *
I left the house early yesterday morning and headed out to do errands. I stopped at the post office to mail out a handful of cards (get your name and address to me by Thursday at midnight if you want one!) and a book I’d sold on half.com, went to Wal-Mart to see if I could find a decent-looking sweater (I could not), then to Michael’s to buy some crafty-type supplies and stocking stuffers. I went from Michael’s to home and had just long enough to go to the bathroom and brush my teeth before I had to leave again for an appointment with the dentist. Well, the dentist hygienist anyway. I cooled my heels in the waiting room for about half an hour (I was ten minutes early; they were running twenty minutes behind; thank god I had my book with me) before I went back for my torture session (which was actually not all that bad, but GOOD CHRIST it hurts when that woman jams the floss between my teeth. I wonder how often dental patients go into a screaming rage and get violent with dental hygienists, because I certainly feel the impulse every time I have my teeth cleaned.). From there I drove out to the cat shelter to pick up my Christmas present and check out the new babies (there was the most adorable little orange kitten and I couldn’t stop rubbing his little belly). Then I went home, made dinner, packed it up to take it out to Smallville, ate lunch, played with the kittens, and did some laundry. It was a busy day for me, but a good one, since there was so much kitten cuddling included. Every day should have a minimum of one hour of kitten snugglin’. That, along with the biscuit law, will be my platform when I run for President in Two Thousand and Never.
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The Christmas kitties are going to the pet store this afternoon, just in time to be adopted for Christmas! When people walking by see (a) How cute they are and (b) That they have Christmas-themed names, they’ll be unable to resist adopting them. Merry’s got the crazy eyes going on.   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.  
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Previously 2005: Also, if Hollabackness is a desired state of being, how do I go about achieving it? 2004: Apparently she’s a princess now. 2003: Three things. 2002: My shit list. 2001: Emailing gets me all excited. 2000: I sure whine about the weather a lot, don’t I? 1999: Disaster averted!]]>


by @ Tuesday, December 19th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life

(Direct link here.) Fred feels it vitally important that I inform y’all that he doesn’t usually sound like that. Because otherwise I’m sure you’d all think that he runs around screaming things in that same high-pitched voice all the time. I think my favorite part of the video is at the end when the boys are eating and Miz Poo is so intent on getting a snootful of Booger ass that she is uninterested in Snack Time.

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I made this for my sister for Christmas (it’s safe to post the picture now, ’cause I know she’s already opened her present; they did their Christmas celebrating last Saturday, because they’re going to be in Pigeon Forge as of this upcoming Saturday). I got the cross stitch kit from Subversive Cross Stitch which – I’m sure I’ve mentioned – absolutely rocks. I got the picture frame from PictureFrames.com, and put the whole shebang together my own self. Debbie apparently liked the picture a LOT, which I knew she would. She’s the easiest person on earth to buy for.
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Yesterday I was listening to Keith and the Girl while I was on my way to Smallville (I forgot to turn the heat down before we left on Sunday, so I needed to go do that, since we’re not even living there yet, so don’t necessarily need to see monster-sized electricity bills on TWO houses this month, thanks), and Chemda (ie, “The Girl”) referred to Andy Rooney as “Eyebrows McGee”, and I laughed so hard I almost drove off the road. Sunday I was listening to them while I was painting, and Chemda was announcing winner of that day’s Keith and the Girl Nano iPod, and the winner’s name was Ross something or other, and I heard “Ro-“, and I almost fell over with a heart attack from the excitement, so sure was I that I was about to hear the rest of my name. I really want me one of those damn KATG Nanos.
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We let the kittens out to run around the house for a few hours last night. It went surprisingly better than I expected. The only big cat who had a real issue with the little monsters running around was Mister Boogers, who showed his butt as usual, but the rest of the cats just kind of sat and looked at the kittens and occasionally hissed if they got too close. Kringle is just a wild little thing who will run back and forth, back and forth, back and forth until he drops into a heap of exhaustion. He cracks me up.   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.    
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Previously 2005: I’m sure that if Rachel McAdams knew that pictures of her nipples were going to be splashed all over the internet she would have yanked out the hairs just to spare the Dork Brigade the sheer horror of having to be aware of the fact that she’s a living, breathing human and exists for purposes beyond serving as an image for them to jerk off to. 2004: I’d swear to never use Amazon again, but it’s so FREAKING convenient I just can’t help myself. 2003: Clearly we were in the presence of REALLY important people. 2002: Because I’m just that good. 2001: That’s right, damnit, I’m a chick magnet! 2000: We’re standing strong in the face of those two snowflakes. 1999: Though I guess “substance” would be a matter of opinion.]]>


by @ Monday, December 18th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life, medical crap, New house

* * * This weekend I painted and painted and painted. And then? I painted some more. Not only did I have doors to paint, I had the trim between the computer room and bathroom to paint (which I did) and then on Sunday while Fred fiddle-farted around outside, I painted the trim in the downstairs hallway, all by myself. Twice. It was actually not all that bad because (for Sunday at least) Fred was off doing his own thing and I was alone in the house with my iPod and my bucket of paint, and I listened to Keith and the Girl and painted, and it was not quite relaxing and not quite enjoyable, but certainly not the hell that painting has been in the past. Plus, I think I might be getting a little faster with the painting. When we were done with the hallway, I looked at it, and I could see every little flaw, every drippy bit of paint that I didn’t realize was dripping ’til it had dried, and I thought “Well, when we’re living here, maybe I’ll sand down the trim and repaint it!”, but I think that we all know that it’s more likely that Sugarbutt will whisk Miz Poo into a perky waltz about the living room before I actually get off my dead ass and sand down the trim so that I don’t have to look at the drippy bits. If there’s anything I know, it’s that I can quite easily turn a blind eye to the drippy bits. Check out Fred’s journal for pictures of what we’ve finished recently. Saturday afternoon I spent zipping about the side and back lawn with the riding lawnmower. Those are the only parts of the quote-unquote lawn that I haven’t mowed yet, and while the grass wasn’t particularly long, I was struck with the urge to be outside, and there was a thick pile of leaves all over the lawn, and so it took me a couple of hours to pick up all the leaves with the riding lawnmower and dump them into a pile on the back lawn with the intent of burning them on Sunday, which I never did do. Either I’ll burn the leaves next weekend, or I’ll get tired of seeing the pile there, and demand that Fred push them into some out-of-the-way location so I don’t have to look at them. Two things I have recently concluded: 1. The perfectly-manicured lawn of the ‘burbs just isn’t meant to be when one lives in the country where there are trees tossing down leaves all the live-long day and trees are blocking sunlight on one side of the house so that grass won’t grow. Don’t get me wrong – we’ll keep our grass cut short and all, but I’m not going to freakin’ EDGE around the driveway or any of that shit. Life is TOO SHORT. 2. One cannot possibly be expected to pick up every branch off the lawn so that one will not run them over with the riding lawnmower, especially when there are so many big-ass trees that shed big branches constantly. If I were to pick up every branch and big twig I saw, I’d do nothing BUT pick up twigs and branches all day long, and life? Did I mention? TOO SHORT. One other thing: Newt, who was the biggest, scarediest scaredy-cat back when we first met him, is now a big lovebug. He loves to stretch out on the front porch for a belly rub, he loves to follow us around when we walk around the perimeter of our property, and yesterday I was in the computer room switching out switches and plugs, and I heard a strange sound, so I turned off my iPod and went into the hallway, and he was coming down the stairs, gave me a big squeaky greeting, and rubbed against my legs. Then he followed me into the bathroom to watch me pee. Apparently Fred had left the back door open, and the screen door hangs open just enough that a cat can sneak in, so he did. Boy, it’s a GOOD THING he’s not OUR cat, huh? Two things about our country cats I have learned: 1. They will eat ANYTHING, and they’ll be GRATEFUL for it. Seriously, they’ve eaten just about every single thing we’ve put down in front of them, and then they’ve given us looks o’ love afterwards. Our city cats will delicately pick at whatever yummy food you give them, and they will take FOREVER to eat it, and sometimes they’ll even turn up their noses, look at us like “You expect me to eat THAT?” and walk away, but in the country, you put a plate of snackin’ snack down in front of them, and it’s gone in about ten seconds. 2. Um. I don’t remember what the second thing was. I guess I’ve only learned one thing about country cats. She’ll sit on Fred’s lap forEVER. She loves loves LOVES him. Which is funny, considering how timid she was around him at first.   ***************************************   The Christmas kitties are still here! The cages at the pet store are full, so maybe they’ll be going to the pet store later this week (depending on adoptions), and maybe not. I don’t guess I need to tell y’all that I did a little happy dance when I saw the full cages and realized I would be keeping the kittens for a little while longer, do I? We haven’t let them out of the kitten room to run around the house yet, but in the last few days they’ve started trying to escape when we open the door, so tonight we’re going to let them out to terrorize our cats. I’m sure there’ll be pictures of THAT little dramafest in tomorrow’s entry. “Look, lady. Here’s the thing. I’m cute. I know it, you know, they all know it. You do NOT need to keep picking me up and kissing me and then telling me I’m cute. I KNOW I AM. Just stop it, because I might be cute, but I have an inner bad girl I will not HESITATE to unleash on you.”   “No house could possibly have enough orange kitties. You KNOW IT’S TRUE, lady!”   “Santa? Izzat YOU?”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.    

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Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: He yawned his ears right off his head. 2003: “Well,” he said, all smug and certain of his facts. “If you didn’t have DIARRHEA, then it was NOT the flu! It’s just a cold!” 2002: But is Christmas shopping ever really done? 2001: The usual excitement 2000: Grandma’s other concerns were whether the fire was going out (it wasn’t) and how much Fred and Becky were eating. 1999: When did Toronto become part of the United States, again?]]>


by @ Friday, December 15th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life

LOOK at what the recipient is going to do with it!! Want to help us pay it forward? Very, very cool, that.

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The spud is just fine and opted to go to school today even though she didn’t have to. I swear to god, when I was her age I would have jumped at the chance to stay home from school, but not her. She doesn’t want to miss her French test. If she didn’t laugh so much like her father, I’d suspect they switched babies on me 18-plus years ago.
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So I’ve been meaning to write about this for forever and a day. One meellion years ago I was bitching about not being able to find a decent bra, and a large number of you gave suggestions via comments and email, because apparently the “bra that fits” issue is a hot-button issue amongst my readers. Then Stacey left this comment: Also take a look here about measuring for a bra. I wore a 38C for years and just thought all bras were uncomfortable. I saw that link somewhere, measured according to their instructions, and it told me I was a 36DD. I said, “Ha! Hahaha!” and went out and tried on and bought a 36D, which fit better than my old bras, but then recently I gave in and tried on some 36DDs and what do you know? They’re comfortable. (I can’t find a bra in that size that doesn’t look like an orthopedic device, but that’s another story. At least they don’t hurt.) So I went to that page and followed the directions for measuring myself for a bra. According to them, I was a size 34DDD. And I said “That is an utterly ridiculous bra size, I cannot POSSIBLY be a 34DDD, that’s not even a REAL bra size, it’s a PORN STAR bra size!” And I opened up the latest issue of Playboy to see the centerfold’s measurements, and sure enough – she was a perfectly respectable 36D. (She also had some ridiculously tiny waist measurement, but we won’t go into THAT.) I rolled my eyes and went about my day and kept on wearing my Lane Bryant Cacique soft-cup bras, size 44DD (I think), even though I could tell they weren’t even close to what I was supposed to be wearing. When you’ve been in the Cacique soft-cup bras comfort zone as long as I have, it’s not easy to break out of it. The problem with wearing bras that are too big for you is that they are NOT COMFORTABLE. I can’t speak for y’all, but when a bra is too big, I tend to fidget a lot trying to make them comfortable, and it just wasn’t working for me. So I tried going to JC Penney’s to be fitted for a bra, and I don’t even remember what size the woman who measured me came up with, but I tried some bras on in that size, and the band size was too big and the cup size was too small and that flabby fat I’ve developed on the sides of my boobs (under my arms) hung over the bands and I took one look in the mirror and I said “Oh, JESUS. I don’t THINK so!”, and I changed back into my crappy oversized bra and got the hell out of there. I spent a few weeks pouting and wearing the oversized bras I already had, wishing someone would swoop down from out of nowhere, drag me off to the store, and fit me properly for a bra that would look halfway decent and would give me perky boobs. Then one day I ran across the link that Stacey had suggested, and I measured myself again, and I got 34DDD again, and I thought Well, fine. I’ll order some 34DDD bras and try them, and when they don’t fit right, I’ll go back to my CRAPPY BRAS WHICH I HATE. And I will email those people and tell them how WRONG they are! I ordered four or five different bras from that site, KNOWING all the while that there was no way on earth they’d fit me. The bras came, and I put the package on my dresser and went about my life. When it comes to things like bras, I have to live with the idea of trying them on before I actually try them on – new things scare me, I guess – and the package sat there for about a week until the day I came out of the bathroom after my shower and saw the package and thought Yeah, I’d better try those on so I can get them sent back and have my credit card credited. First bra? Didn’t fit. Second bra? Nope. Third? Ditto. And then came bra number four, lovely lovely lovely bra number four, the Olga Perfect Fit Full Figure Underwire Bra #35069. The strap fit around me. The cups were perfect. And the best part? The bands on the side were big enough that they held in all that flabulousness and yet were just the right degree of firmness; firm but not tight. I figured that this was too good to be true, so I wore the bra for the entire day, and it was comfortable and I even forgot for a while that I was wearing a new bra. And my boobs were just as perky as they could be. An underwire! Me in an underwire! For the first time EVER, I was wearing a COMFORTABLE underwire! And so I ordered another six bras, because I needed enough to get me through a week at a time (even though I do laundry more often than once a week), and about a month ago, after I got all the bras I’d ordered, I trusted my new fancy bras enough to do the unthinkable: I threw all the Cacique soft cup bras away. (No, I didn’t give them away because they were rather ratty looking by that point) So that’s the story of my search for the perfect bra, and how I found it. For me, it’s the perfect bra. You might not find it so perfect, but boy, it works for me. And look – they’re on sale for under $20 at Breakout Bras right now! (You can also get them at FreshPair)
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What I love about the Christmas Kitties is that their personalities are really starting to emerge. Faith is the big baby who climbs into my lap at the first opportunity and lets out a bitchy “Woman, pet me!” meow every once in a while. I think she’d like it if I did nothing but sit and pet her. Merry is the feisty little biter who likes to sit on my leg and be petted until she’s distracted by my toes, which apparently misbehave and desperately need to be bitten on a regular basis. Noelle’s the shy girl who will stand next to me ’til the cows come home and happily let me pet her, but if I try to pick her up, she’s off like a shot. Jack Frost is the big baby who likes to swish back and forth (much in the way Fancypants used to; I can’t believe he’s been gone for more than three years!) and if I’m not fast enough with the petting, he lets me know it. Kringle is the love bug – he’ll climb into my lap along with Faith, play with her, play with my leg, play with whichever sibling is within reach, and then he’ll fall asleep. Last night, I had every kitten but Merry asleep in my lap. It was seriously cute, and I wish I’d had the camera with me. They may be going to the pet store this weekend, I’m not sure yet. Now I need to go snuggle with them and take a bazillion more pictures just in case they do!   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.    
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Previously 2005: I probably have a brain tumor. 2004: I swear, my Grinchly heart grew three sizes right then and there. 2003: A tree with glass ornaments? In a house with five cats? 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: I told Fred we should hire her out to the local police agencies and she could tell them when someone looks like a “drug person.” 1999: Fred and I came to an agreement last night. The end of March, I’m going off the birth control, and we’re going to start trying to get pregnant. (HahahahahahaHAHA! My, how times have changed!)]]>


by @ Thursday, December 14th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life, medical crap

Aurora Greenway and screaming “MY BABY IS IN PAIN, MAKE IT STOP!” at the nurses, when it went away for a little while, and the spud was able to doze. The doctor finally came in, did a physical exam and seemed to be leaning toward the idea that it was a stomach virus, which they’ve been seeing a lot of lately. She ordered IV fluids, blood tests, and a urine test, and went along her way. As they were taking blood and starting the IV, her friend and boyfriend showed up to see her. I went into the waiting room for a while so they could both hang out with her (they limit how many people are in the room at one time), called Fred, and read. Her friend left after half an hour or so, and so I went back into her room. They gave her Phenergan for the nausea and started a second IV bag of fluids, and it was just a matter of cooling our heels while the test results came back. The phenergan knocked the spud out and Tyler was watching the Sci Fi channel so I took my book out and read. The doctor came in around 6:45 and said that the test results had come back and it looked like the spud had herself a stomach virus. Since she’d finished her second bag of IV fluids and was feeling much better, the doctor thought she’d be okay to go home. The doctor said the nurse would be in momentarily to disconnect the IV and give us the discharge papers, a doctor’s note for school, and a prescription for Phenergan. 45 minutes later I finished my book, realized how long we’d been waiting, and said “Think they forgot her?” to Tyler. He had just said “It looks like it!” when the nurse came in and apologized for taking so long. It was about 8:30 by the time we dropped Tyler off at home, dropped off the prescriptions at the drug store, and got home. The spud ate a piece of toast and drank some Gatorade, then went upstairs and crashed. This morning she’s feeling much MUCH better. She didn’t need any more Phenergan overnight, and she had a bowl of soup for breakfast. I suspect she’ll be okay to go back to school tomorrow, but we’ll see about that. I also suspect that I’ll be next to suffer from this stomach virus and I can’t WAIT. Woohoo! Fun! *Yes, I know what you’re thinking. She’s not.

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The kittens continue to get friendlier and friendlier. This morning I ended up in the kitten room for about 45 minutes doing nothing but petting kittens. They’ve come to the group conclusion that petting is a good thing and so they mill about me, demanding to be petted and if I’m not fast enough, they squeak demandingly at me. It’s tough to pet 5 milling kittens when you only have two hands, believe you me. Faith, playing with a toy they yanked off the end of one of those “fishing pole” cat toys.   “I am here and I needs to be petted, WHY ARE YOU NOT PETTING ME?”   “I say, I NEEDS PETTING.”   What cracks me up is the look on Kringle’s face.   “Pwease pwease PWEASE may I have some catnip? Pwease?”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.    
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Previously 2005: I’m impressed with myself, if you couldn’t tell. 2004: It is in the 20s here today, IS IT OKAY FOR ME TO BE COLD NOW? 2003: (”Thanks, me! I’m so thoughtful!”) 2002: No entry. 2001: Trust me, it was far more horrifying-looking in person. 2000: Babbling. 1999: No entry.]]>


by @ Wednesday, December 13th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life

this is what you were looking for, I believe. I am currently working on a “recommended” page, and Axi-Dent will be one of the many links on that page so you won’t have to search on it next time.

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Meme, stolen from Becky. 1. What does your cell phone look like? It’s a refurbished Motorola Razr V3 in magenta, given to me by a wonderful reader! I can’t figure out how to get the pictures off the phone, but to be honest I didn’t want it ’cause it’s a camera phone, I wanted it ’cause it’s badass. Also, I have no idea how to set an alarm on the phone without having to disable and re-enable it every day so it’ll go off the next day. Suggestions? 2. Do you know what time you were born? The middle of the night sometime, I think. Maybe 2 or 3 am? 3. What do you want more than anything right now? To not have to drive to South Huntsville for an appointment with Dr. LiverDoctor. 4. What do you miss? The heat of summer. It’s a balmy 60ish degrees out, but I’ve still got the space heater going because I am COLD. 5. Hot Dogs or Hamburgers? Hamburgers. In fact, a favorite meal of ours is hamburger patties made on the George Foreman grill, covered in sauteed onions and mushrooms. YUMMY. 6. Do you get scared in the dark? Rarely, and never in my own home. 7. The last person to make you cry? Ayelet Waldman. 8. Hair/Eye color you prefer on opposite sex? Brown hair, hazel eyes. 9. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be? Lobster. Lobster stew. Any kind of seafood, really. 10. Who is the last person who was mad at you? I don’t know. Fred or the spud, I suppose. 11. Do you speak another language? Nope, but I’ve been considering taking Spanish lessons. 12. What was the first gift anyone ever got you? Does anyone ever know the answer to this question? I was a baby! I don’t know! 13. Would you fall in love with someone knowing they were taken? No. Now, I know you’re going to say “You can’t help who you fall in love with” and “The heart wants what it wants” (GAG), but you can help how you act and whether you pursue the relationship, and besides the point is moot, since I’m not open to a relationship with anyone, anyway. Besides, who’m I going to meet and fall in love with? The FedEx lady is cute, but she’s not my type. 14. Best way to tell someone how much they mean to you? “You mean a lot to me. Can you hand me the ketchup?” 15. Your Weaknesses? I don’t know. Stubbornness, the insistence on being right, getting pissed off if it’s proven I’m not right, being easily flustered. The list is ENDLESS. 16. Ever done a prank call? Yeah, but not in years. I think the last time I made a prank call is when some guy was being a jackass to my sister, and I called him repeatedly and played the Adam Sandler Thanksgiving “Love to eat turkey! Love to eat tur-ur-ur-ur-urkey!” song. I think Liz was there, too, and we all laughed ’til we cried. 17. If you could get plastic surgery, what would it be? Everything. Seriously, a neck lift, upper arm lift, boob lift, tummy tuck, upper thigh lift, and possibly even an eyebrow lift. If you hadn’t noticed, the operative word here is “lift.” 18. What do you get complimented about the most? My kitty pics! 19. What do you want for your birthday? I… do not know. Surprise me! 20. How many kids do you want? Just the one, thanks. 21. Do you wish on stars? Not really, but only because it doesn’t occur to me. 22. Which finger/s is/are your favorite? I… have never thought about it. I love all my fingers equally. 23. When did you last cry? Monday night, reading this book. 24. What is your most embarrassing CD on the shelf? I don’t get embarrassed by the CDs on my shelf. Some might be embarrassed by the Vanilla Ice CD, but not me. All right, stop! Collaborate and listen! Ice is back with my brand new invention! 25. If you were another person, would you be friends with yourself? Probably I would find myself too annoying to be friends with. 26. Have you ever told a secret you swore never to tell? I’m sure I have, but nothing comes to mind. 27. Do looks matter? In a general sense? Probably. 28. How do you release your anger? Swear, throw my hands up in the air (like I just don’t care), and stomp around. 29. Do you trust people too easily? I’d like to say no, but most likely I do. 30. Favorite toy as a child? Er. I don’t know, my stuffed frog, maybe? I still have it, even. 31. Where were you 6 hours ago? Sleeping and probably being kneaded and licked by Sugarbutt. 32. Who will be your next kiss? Fred, unless the cats count. 33. Anything pink within 10 feet of you? I have pink handled scissors in my pen cup. That’s it, though. 34. What are you wearing right now? Land’s End cotton pants, a long-sleeve Mossy Oak t-shirt (in size large!), and black socks. 35. Last sporting event you watched? I don’t remember when it was, but I’m sure it was figure skating, since that’s the only sport I bother to watch. 36. What is/was your favorite class? I liked most of my English classes. 37. How old are your parents? 63 (Mom) and 65 (Dad), I think. 38. Do you miss anyone? My sister! (But I’ll be seeing her in less than two weeks!) 39. Were you an honor roll student in school? HELL no. I was too lazy to do the work required. 40. What do you know about the future? It’s so bright I’ve gotta wear shades. 41. Do you have a tan? No; I’m always too covered up to get much of a tan. 42. How old do you want to be when you have kids? I was 20. 43. Last time you got stopped or pulled over by an officer? It’s been several years – I was stopped for speeding, and we lived in the other house at that point, so it’s been at least five years – maybe more like six or seven, I don’t remember exaclty. 44. How do you like your drinks? Non-alcoholic. 45. Are you someone’s best friend? Yes.
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Aside from going to get my thyroid ultrasounded (which took about ten minutes and was utterly painless. I always want to fall asleep during ultrasounds.) yesterday afternoon, I also got a package mailed off to my sister and one to my parents, which means that the sending stuff out portion of my Christmas season is taken care of. I ALSO got the Christmas tree put up (it’s only been knocked over once so far, knock wood!) and a few decorations put up as well. Noelle must have heard me typing about her and decided to be contrary, so she came over and stood by me for a good long time, letting me pet her. She didn’t climb on me (only Merry and Kringle are doing that at this point), but she stood there and withstood some torturous petting and even sniffed my foot for a moment. I think we’re making progress. Do not be fooled by the slightly alarmed look on her little face. She was LOVING the petting.   “You tawkin’ to me?”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither.    
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Previously 2005: It’s hard to resist a chunky little orange kitty. 2004: (I’m not that much of an asshole. But it sure is fun to imagine!) 2003: Yet another meme. 2002: But I’ll say this – if your kitten is suffering from anal leakage, y’all, TAKE IT TO THE VET. 2001: No entry. 2000: “Why does it smell lemony fresh down here?” 1999: Martha Stewart would take one look at my tree and sob loudly, I’m sure.]]>


by @ Tuesday, December 12th, 2006. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

laundry room, complete with pictures. Last week, he wrote about the computer room. I’m pretty sure that once we’re done with the house, I’m going to do a room-by-room tour with before and after pictures. I ran across a picture of the back yard one day last week – this one, to be exact – and it surprised the hell out of me. I had forgotten that it even looked like that. I’ve cleared all the brush away from the bottoms of the trees and it looks one hell of a lot better than it did. I’ll have to take a comparison picture so y’all can see what it looks like now.

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I did a lot of nothing yesterday – spent most of the day on my ass in front of the computer, actually – and it was niiiiice. I almost had to go out to Michael’s to get a part for something I’m framing (it was a custom-sized frame I ordered online and the piece that held two sides together wouldn’t cooperate with me, and I had a hissy fit, then figured it out and finished it. It’s a Christmas present for someone who reads, so I can’t go into it more than that (hi, Deb!), but I’ll put up a picture of it after Christmas, ’cause it cracks me up every time I look at it. I spent a lot of time in the kitten room letting the kittens get used to me, and petting them as they went by me. I figure it can’t hurt to spend as much time in there as I can, petting and handling them as much as possible. Jack Frost cracks me up because he comes over to be petted, and he walks around you and lets you pet him, but if he gets too far away and you can’t reach him to pet him, he turns and gives you a LOOK and meows sadly as though to say “Why you stop petting me, Lady?” Merry has actually been climbing up on my legs to sniff at me and be petted. Kringle is the least scaredy-cat of all the kittens, and even Faith likes the occasional back scratch. Noelle, though, she worries me. She’s so scared and timid and I don’t want to scare her by picking her up and kissing her, but she sits off by herself and just stares at us, and I don’t know if she’s wishing we’d pet her too, or that we’d go away so she doesn’t have to be so scared. Poor Noelle. What will be nice is that after tomorrow morning we can stop giving them metronidazole (they were diagnosed with giardia) twice a day, which might help stop them from being so skittish around us. They HATE that metronidazole. Fred holds them while I squirt a dose of the stuff down their throats, and then they run off to sit and drool and shoot daggers at us. I do my best to get the syringe as far back in their mouths as possible so they won’t have to taste the medicine, but apparently I’m not doing so well. Poor kitties. Something’s spooked Kringle! (It was a black paw reaching under the door from the other side. Tommy is DYING to get his paws on these kittens)   “Whyfor haff you stopped petting me, Lady? WOE IS ME!”   “Bahahahahah!”   “Heyyyyyyyyyy, Macarena!”   “Can it be hugs time now?”   All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.     * * * “So I said, ‘I’d like to double HER entendre’. Haw haw. High fives!”
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Previously 2005: (If you must know, it’s the “Tinferl” that really hit my funny bone. I don’t know. Don’t look at me like that. Shaddup.) 2004: Those two just make me shudder. And not in a good way. 2003: “Hey!” he thought to himself. “I think that might be the same bird and the same feeder!” 2002: “That’s okay, Bessie. I hate you sometimes, too,” he said. 2001: No entry. 2000: A blue spark leapt from my tender, sensitive pinky finger to the door of the Jeep in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and I all but screamed. 1999: But if I end up MIA, y’all know where to tell the cops to look…]]>

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