Home

Archive for January, 2007

1/31/07

by @ Wednesday, January 31st, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

fold-up tote bags and DROOLED. Note to Debbie: Still my favorite Christmas present!!!). And I cannot get the goddamn garage door to go down. Apparently the beams are off-kilter, and I can’t get them to go on-kilter no matter how much I try. And it’s PISSING ME OFF. And I’m fucking cold, even though the space heater is half an inch from me, blasting on high, probably cooking me. How do you prefer your Bitchypoo? Medium rare? Coming right up! Spring, where art thou?

* * *
Yesterday was a busy-ass day for me. I left here a little before 8:30 to drive to the other side of Huntsville for an appointment with my nutritionist (it being my one-year Surgiversary and all), and to have a metabolic cart test done. I hate doing that metabolic cart, because you put a clip on your nose and have to breathe in and out through this tube in your mouth, and it makes me feel like I’m smothering to death. Metabolic cart test: my metabolism is high. I am skeptical of the metabolic cart test, personally, but it’s certainly interesting to see the little printed-out chart. My BMI according to the nutritionist is 26.3. Normal for a woman is 20 to 25. Thus I am still overweight. But I can handle it, since I’m no longer in the “Holy shit!” BMI category. My BMI the first time I went into the nutritionist’s office was 52.1. For the record. The nutritionist told me to keep doing what I was doing, and I left his office to go sit in the parking lot in my car and read for an hour until my appointment with the surgeon. Now, just a note here. My original appointment with the surgeon was scheduled for 11:15. Monday, when his office called to remind me that I had an appointment, the appointment-reminder-lady told me that they’d had a cancellation and 10:45 was available, and would I be interested? I was, so they rescheduled me for 10:45. What time did I actually see the surgeon? Why, at 11:45, of course. OF COURSE. Good thing they rescheduled me for 10:45, huh? I wasn’t pissed off, though, because I brought my book and bottle of water with me, so I sat and read and read some more, until he came in to see me. He told me that if I get my BMI to or under 25, I don’t have to wait until the two-year mark to have plastic surgery done. Woot! By the time I left his office, it was close to noon, and although I’d considered blowing off my next appointment, I decided that since I was on that side of Huntsville and I REALLY needed to have it done, I’d just suck it up and go have it done. I wasn’t sure where the office was, so I went to make sure I could find it. I found it, but then couldn’t find a damn place to turn around, and after a certain point, the road that the office was on doesn’t have any streets off to the side of it, so I ended up having to drive all the way over the damn mountain to the other side (note to those of you in the area: did you know that Cecil Ashburn Drive takes you from Bailey Cove Rd to Hampton Cove? I didn’t, until now.) to turn around. I made it back to the office just in time for my appointment, so parked and – a little nervous – walked in. “I have a 12:45 with Hilary?” I told the girl at the front desk, who very strongly resembled a much younger (and much shorter) Nicole Kidman. She directed me upstairs, and I told the woman at that desk my name and who my appointment was with. She beckoned for me to follow her, and led me into a waiting room. A fancy waiting room. A hoity-toity waiting room. “Hilary will be with you in a few minutes,” she said. Across the room, three women wearing fluffy robes and fluffy slippers lounged on a couch, sipping water from fancy glasses and flipping through glossy magazines. One of them, a well-preserved older woman, glanced up at me and then nudged the woman – a younger, well-groomed woman – sitting next to her. The second woman looked me over, then looked back at the first. Not our type, she mouthed. The first woman nodded in agreement. The wall next to me was a wall fountain – I guess that’s what they’re called, when the whole wall is water? A wall of water? I don’t know what they’re called but they are the exclusive province of hoity-toity places, I assure you. A few more moments passed as I looked around the waiting room from under lowered lashes and registered that relaxing fancypants music was playing through hidden speakers. Hilary stepped into the room, introduced herself, and led me away. I smiled tentatively at the three women as I walked by them, and they rewarded me with fake, icy smiles. As the door closed behind me, I heard one of them whisper to the other, Is she… pregnant? (Okay. I made that italicized section up. Except for the wall of water and the fact that there were three women in robes in that room. Who ignored me. But that’s okay, ’cause I ignored them, too. SO THERE.) Hilary led me into a small room, one playing the same fancypants Music o’ Relaxation that had been playing in the waiting room. She gestured toward a wide padded table covered with a sheet and told me to lay down face-up. It got a little Three-Stoogesesque (or possibly more “Who’s on First” Abbott and Costelloesque) as I tried to determine where my head was supposed to go, and finally she patted the table and said “Head on this end, face up.” I got up on the table and laid down, my face under a light. “So, you’ve had this done before?” she asked, looking at the sheet I’d filled out in the waiting room. “Yes, but it’s been quite a while,” I said. “And what brings you here now?” she asked, or something along those lines. “A bunch of crazy bitches who read my online journal keep ragging at me about my horrible eyebrows, and I saw one of your pamphlets around Christmas time, and since I was going to be on this side of town today, I thought I’d just come and have my eyebrows waxed,” I said. (Only I didn’t really say the “crazy bitches online” part. But I was thinking it! I actually just mumbled something about being 39 and deciding it was time to get this thing done regularly.) I have to say, getting your eyebrows (and upper lip) waxed at a hoity-toity fancypants place? Somehow, it hurts a lot less than it does at the cheap hair salon at the mall. Maybe it’s the relaxing music, or the warm table (there was some sort of heating blanket under there and it was HEAVENLY) or a woman who really knows what she’s doing. I prefer to think that it’s MAGIC, myself. It took, maybe, ten minutes to have my eyebrows completely done and my upper lip done as well, and I have to say – I don’t see a huge difference in the eyebrows, but I do like what I see. Before. After. Now, in a couple of months when I’ve gotten lazy about plucking the hairs that have grown back, y’all remind me to go have it done again, okay? So from there, I went straight home with the intention of settling on the couch and maybe taking a nap, but when I checked my email I found one from the shelter manager, letting me know that there was space at the pet store, and I could take Fantine there. I grabbed Fantine up, gave her some love, tossed her in a carrier, and took her to the pet store. I took my time getting her cage set up, letting her sniff around the cat room for a while, then I hugged and kissed her, told her to get adopted fastfastfast (I always tell the kitties that I take to the pet store to get adopt fastfastfast), and left. I always feel awful leaving cats at the pet store. I hope like hell she gets adopted before Monday! Then I came home, ate lunch, and had half an hour to sit on my dead ass and surf the web before I had to start dinner. We had jambalaya last night and between the chopping and the cooking, it takes about an hour to make. It took me almost exactly an hour to make, and we ate dinner at 4:30 (which, for the record, is far too fucking early for me, but Fred would eat dinner at 3:00 every day if allowed, I’m sure). Once we’d finished eating, Fred and I headed out to his car, to drive over to Smallville and check out the floors, which had been stained. Except that as I was walking by the spud’s car, I looked down and noticed that her right front tire was completely flat. After telling the spud not to go anywhere and that Fred would take care of it when we got back, we headed out to the house. I really, really like the stain color we chose. It looks good (and will look even better once the polyurethane is added, I’m sure), and the floor guy actually told Fred that he was going to start recommending that color to people, it looked so good. I don’t have a picture of the floors – though no doubt Fred will put up pictures of the floor in a future entry – but the stain we chose is called English Chestnut. We weren’t able to go in and see all the floors, just went into the laundry room and looked at the kitchen floor, then looked at the living room floor from the front porch. It definitely looks good – the first thing Fred wants to do when we can get back into the house is to put quarter-round down in the front room to see what the completed picture will look like. I suspect it’ll look damn fine, myself. Newt was there when we got there – we haven’t seen Maxi in a while, and I think Fred is getting worried – so we filled up the food bowl and gave him a can of wet food. He’s gotten particularly skittish lately, it seems, maybe because we haven’t been around all that much. Hopefully Maxi will show up this weekend while we’re working on the house. I hope so! We got home and Fred and the spud went out to change the tire on her car. Except that her car didn’t have a jack, and even after he took the jack from my car, Fred couldn’t figure out where to put it (there’s a specific place to put the jack, and he wasn’t able to find it, even looking around under the car with a flashlight), so he gave up and had me call AAA. “Tell them your husband is out of town!” he whispered, sure that they’d take his Man card away from him if they knew he was allowing a tow truck driver to change a tire on a car in his driveway. We needed to go to Lowe’s for potting soil, so I told the spud to get her AAA card and driver’s license, and keep an eye out for the tow truck driver. “Tell them your dad is out of town!” Fred instructed her. We went to Lowe’s and bought the potting soil – and a couple of blackberry bushes, woot! I also eyed the blueberry bushes and the strawberry plants, all of which we’re going to eventually have Smallville – and were home in about twenty minutes. Just as we pulled into the driveway, the tow truck came up the street. “Tell them I’m out of town!” Fred joked, but I just smiled and left him to deal with the driver, who took about two minutes to change the tire. (Time to revoke Fred’s Man Card, obviously.) Then we killed about half an hour online (I had to call my sister and let her know that CopperTop’s horse had given birth. SO SWEET!) before it was time to settle down and watch TV. Well, I settled down while Fred stood in the kitchen and planted in planters the two apple trees and two peach trees we’d bought online. It’s way too cold outside right now to put young trees in the ground so they’ll be in pots for another month and a half or so. (This morning it looked as though Fred opened a bag of potting soil and tossed it around the entire kitchen during the planting process.) I had to pause the TV and assist Fred in getting the pots of trees upstairs to his room, since it’s the only room in the house where we keep the door closed, plus it gets a lot of morning sun, which the trees will hopefully enjoy. The rest of the evening was spent watching TV, then after Fred went to bed I read until I couldn’t keep my eyes open, and went to sleep. You’ll forgive me if I don’t do a damn thing today!
* * *
She loved that banana/ catnip toy. I should have taken it to the pet store with her.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: Hey, can you eat raw kale? 2004: No entry. 2003: My whole life is a vicious circle, really. 2002: No entry. 2001: I mean, what the fuck did I do? 2000: Yeah, I know, woe is me.]]>

1/30/07

by @ Tuesday, January 30th, 2007. Filed under Life

Suzy wants to go bald! Who are we to stop her? Let’s help!!!

* * *
After months and months, I’ve finally put up more pictures on the Pet Store Kitties page!
* * *
I got my “Recommended” page up and running. It’s a disorganized mess (I’ll organize it at some point), and I know there are things I forgot to put on that page. If you can think of something I’ve raved about – or at least mentioned liking – feel free to mention it, and I’ll add it. There’s a doofy little thumbs-up image picture of Sugarbutt that says “I recommends” over there in the sidebar to the right; click on it, and it’ll take you to the “recommended” page.
* * *
Okay. I can maybe understand why I might be mistaken as pregnant. (Shut up, though. I’m not getting rid of the top. I LOVE it. It’s soft and comfy and cuddly and cozy. I just won’t wear it in public anymore!)
* * *
I’m ready for the freakin’ floor guys to be done with the freakin’ floor. I want my house back! I got shit to do, man! When Fred was out at the house on Saturday, he found to his displeasure that one of the floor guys had taken a dump in the upstairs toilet and then NOT FLUSHED. Gah. How fucking NASTY IS THAT? Yesterday morning he called the head floor guy and judiciously asked him to ask his guys to FLUSH THE GODDAMN TOILET AFTER THEY USE IT. How old are these guys, that you’ve got to tell them to flush the toilet, I’m wondering. The head floor guy was horrified and told Fred that… I don’t know what he told Fred, but he swore it wouldn’t happen again, anyway. I hope to god he’s right, because once is JUST PLENTY, thanks.
* * *
I know we’ve had an incredibly mild winter and this cold weather has only been around a few days, but I am OVER IT. I’m ready for spring, please! The daffodils growing out back are still alive, somehow, poor things.
* * *
I’ve got fuck-all for y’all today. I have appointments on the other side of Huntsville and I’m just sitting here waiting for it to be time to leave. So I’m going to go sit on my ass on the couch and wait for it to be time and hope that it warms the fuck up out there so I don’t gotta wear gloves. I have some nice gloves, but my hands prefer to be nekkid. See ya tomorrah!
* * *
PS: There’s a one-year post-surgery entry up over at OneFatBitchypoo, if you’re interested.
* * *
What a difference a year makes. (Self-portrait #21)
* * *
Previously 2006: Off to the hospital! 2005: No entry. 2004: Poor Bean. 2003: About the cats. 2002: When did Dick Gephardt die? 2001: The illness continues. 2000: I am officially the laziest chick in the world.]]>

1/29/07

by @ Monday, January 29th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

Property Ladder. We started DVRing it a few months ago, and have been watching every episode we can get our paws on. If you’ve never seen it, the premise is that one person (or a couple of people, sometimes even a group of people) buys a house with the intention of renovating it and selling it for a profit – ie, “flipping” it. Once they’ve bought the house, the host of the show, Kirsten K3mp, shows up to walk through the house with the buyers and hear about their plans. And what really makes the show for us is that Kirsten K3mp, while walking through the house and hearing what the buyers have planned, gets this really DISAPPROVING look on her face. It’s always the same disapproving look, and it cracks us UP. What else we really like about the show is how dumb people are, and they don’t listen to Kirsten (who is a very successful realtor, real estate developer, designer and interior decorator. Also, she was on Saved By the Bell!) when she advises them to do one thing or not do another, and they end up totally fucking up and blowing through their budget in 10.2 seconds flat, and all is chaos. Also, many times they intend to spend, say, $80,000 on renovating a house and end up spending $120,000, so what do they do? Why, they just raise the price, of course! It doesn’t matter what houses are going for in the area and that they’re dumbasses! Hike that price up, and sit on the house for months and months while it doesn’t sell! Makes sense to THEM. It’s just a really damn good show, and we usually hit the “What a FUCKING idiot!” point about halfway through every show, where we both exclaim “What a FUCKING idiot!” and roll our eyes at each other. My only gripe is that we’re apparently in a new season, and at the beginning of the show last season there was a part where Kirsten was talking to someone, and she had that disapproving look on her face, and she sternly said “It’s flipping, not flip-flopping!”, and we’d fast-forward through the opening song-and-credits except for that part, because you can sense the barely concealed rage Kirsten K3mp is carrying around with her, you can TELL that she wants to brand “FLIPPING. NOT FLIP-FLOPPING. YOU FUCKING FOOL.” on the forehead of the idiots she’s talking to, but she holds it together. Barely, but she does it. Anyway, in the new opening sequence, there is no “It’s flipping, not flip-flopping”, and when I first realized that, I turn to Fred and said, plaintively, “How will we know that it’s flipping? Is it flipping, or is it flip-flopping? I don’t KNOW, because she’s not TELLING us anymore!” We also really like Flip This House and Flip That House.

* * *
Fred went out to the house on Saturday and Sunday to work on the wood shed and do other tasks around the house. I could have gone out to the house with him – I’m sure I could have found something to do – but instead I opted to stay home and sit around on my dead ass. Besides, Sunday it was FUCKING COLD and I just didn’t even want to think about leaving the house to do anything. So I didn’t. I did a lot of reading and watching TV, is what I did. In fact, I read all of Hannibal Rising on Saturday, and let me tell you this: Don’t fucking bother. There are NO questions that Hannibal Rising answered, that weren’t perfectly well answered in Hannibal. Thomas Harris needs to get his ass off the Hannibal Lechter gravy train and write something as worth reading as The Silence of the Lambs or Red Dragon. Describing why Hannibal Lechter is the way he is makes him less interesting, not more. I can only imagine how much the movie must suck.
* * *
Movies we watched over the weekend: Of Mice and Men. I read the book recently, which made me want to see the movie again. Gary Sinise as George and John Malkovich as Lenny – I’m not sure the movie could have been any better cast. Saw III. Fred rented a bunch of movies Sunday and this was the one I wanted to see most. Why? I have no fucking clue. I spent most of the movie either looking at the wall waiting for the gross part to be over, or looking at one corner of the screen… waiting for the gross part to be over. The main guy (not Jigsaw or Julie Lawry, but the other main guy) looked terribly familiar to me, and I kept saying to Fred “Who IS that guy?” He didn’t look familiar to Fred, but then I finally figured it out. “That’s Robert the Bruce!” I said. And it was. I love me some Robert the Bruce. (Trivia: he was once engaged to Catherine Zeta-Jones.) The Guardian. Actually a pretty good movie (I think Kelso might have found his niche), but I was cold to start with, and watching all those people swim around in ice-cold water just made me damn colder.
* * *
You may be asking yourself: “Self, I’m curious. What would be the number of cats that would make one make the jump from needing to vacuum occasionally – say, three times a week – to needing to vacuum each and every day?” And the answer to that, my friends, is that when one makes the increase from six cats running around the house at all hours to nine cats running around the house at all hours. That is when one needs to vacuum every single day just to keep the mess under semi-control. Not that I actually vacuum every day. But I should. So we’re currently letting Joe Bob and Myrtle and Fantine (who we call “Momma”) run around the house all the time, without ever being locked up. I was concerned that Myrtle the Hellbeast would keep me awake at night with her Hellbeast roar (she sounds an awful lot like an angry cougar when she’s, well, angry), but there really hasn’t been an issue. Fred feels sorry for Myrtle and Joe Bob because they’re going to get all comfortable here, and then we’re going to take them back to the pet store (eventually) and they’ll be all locked up in a little cage together. However, he also informed me that if we adopted them, it’d be the last time a foster cat ever came through our door, so there you go. Obviously he just doesn’t love Joe Bob enough. After all these years of not having to worry about the cats eating the plants (though they’d occasionally have a taste of a leaf or two), Joe Bob and Myrtle have made it necessary for me to move the plants off the bar in the kitchen. So I moved the plants out of the kitchen, and they started going after the plant on the Secretaire in the dining room, so I trimmed that plant back so its long, lovely branches (?) wouldn’t tempt them. Then I walked into the dining room yesterday and saw this. Apparently he got up on the Secretaire to chew on the plant, then realized he could get on top of the bookcase from there. So he did. (He didn’t get down on his own, though. Instead, he sat and howled until I dragged a chair up to the bookcase and could reach him to drag him down.)
* * *
Self-portrait #20: How I Spent my Weekend. Self-portrait #19 is here, and #18 is here.
* * *
I had a request for Spanky pictures. Such a pretty boy, that Spanky.
* * *
I cannot believe it’s been three years since Tubby died.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: Okay, I promise that’s the last weepy I-miss-my-kitty entry. 2003: Bleach is the shit. 2002: Just for the record, Mike Tyson is the biggest fucking idiot in the entire world. 2001: How the hell am I going to get my ass on Survivor 3 if they’re looking for model types?? 2000: I was quite excited, as I recall. ]]>

1/26/07

by @ Friday, January 26th, 2007. Filed under Life

Suzy is raising money to shave her head in support of children’s cancer research. She needs to raise $1,000 to shave her head bald. I, personally, think Suzy has very pretty hair… but I want to see that woman BALD as a newborn (bald) baby! The event date is March 24th of this year – won’t you guys donate, and help Suzy go bald? It’s for a good cause! Plus, we can all call Suzy Cue Ball! Or Kojak! Or Lex Luthor! Or just plain Baldy!

* * *
Okay, who the hell keeps searching on “shoe size” and “small feet” and is apparently dying to know my shoe size? Is one of you a foot fetishist? Because that icks me out, man. (I’m wearing a size 8 or 8 1/2 currently, down from a 9 wide. IF YOU MUST KNOW.)
* * *
Here’s reason number 5,798 why I love That Man. Last night we were watching TV when the spud called from California. I ended up talking to her for ten or fifteen minutes, and Fred started getting antsy and wanted me to get the hell off the phone so we could watch TV again. Since I was talking to my child, who was telling me about going to the morgue to see her grandfather, I got annoyed with Fred, and made the Mean Face and pointed at him and mouthed for him to shut the hell up I AM TALKING TO MY CHILD. (A recreation. My actual Mean Face is MUCH meaner.) Fred flounced off to check his mail or play with the cats, and I finished up talking to the spud, and we went back to watching American Idol. About an hour later, I got up to take my empty water bottle to the kitchen, and when I flipped on the kitchen light, I saw this: (Serious Injury List 7:28 pm January 25, 2007 Robyn Babbitt pointed and snapped and HURT MY FEELINGS.) It took a minute for it to sink in, and then I laughed so hard I cried.
* * *
For anyone who didn’t get the above, there’s a scene in Rainman that goes like this (Charlie is Tom Cruise, and Raymond is Dustin Hoffman): [Charlie grabs him by the neck] Raymond: OW! Charlie: Don’t make a scene! Raymond: OW! Charlie: Stop acting like a fucking retard. Raymond: UH-OH! [Pulls out red book and writes in it] Charlie: What are you writing?… What the fuck is this? “Serious Injury List”? *Serious* injury list? Are you fucking kidding me? Raymond: Number eighteen in 1988, Charlie Babbitt squeezed and pulled and hurt my neck in 1988. Charlie: Squeezed and pulled and hurt your neck in 1988?
* * *
From my comments: I LOVE YOUR PURSE!!!!!! Put it on ebay and I will bid on it!!!!!!!!!!! Okay! (I won’t hold you to it, Becky; only bid on it if you really want it, and if you don’t, I won’t be mad. Promise!)
* * *
Does Monsieur Boogers (pronounced Boog-AIREs) hate Christine? Monsieur Booger’s affections are very easily purchased. If you send him something, he will turn his hate rays away from you and concentrate them elsewhere. He loves Nance because she sent him a tophat bed (which he still sleeps in regularly), and now he loves Christine too. He loves his Mom and Dad because they give him treats and play with him and tell him what a pretty boy he is. He might be a hater, but he’s a lover, too. You just have to buy his love.
* * *
#1 — glad Aimee is not the only cat to have litter on her nose. Since she was a baby. And she doesn’t cover her poo either — instead she scratches the lid of the litter box instead of scratching down to hide her surprise. Any advice on that one oh grand cat lady? I have NO CLUE what’s up with that. Some of our cats will use the litter box and then scratch at the top of the litter box (on the side) wildly, as if they think they’re covering what they left behind. It’s a mystery to me what the hell they think they’re doing.
* * *
#2 – forget the purse, I want your socks! Well, not ones you wore but the same brand. Care to share? Land’s End Cotton Ragg socks. Yes, they’re expensive ($18 for two pairs), but I bought the four pair I have at least three years ago (if not longer), and they’re showing no sign of wearing out at all, despite the fact that I wear them, constantly, all winter long. Also, they’re nice and warm!
* * *
Ha to the cat in the water. Where do you buy that? Not that we need more cats, but just in case. Oooooh, sorry. Sam’s Club just ended their “Free hellcat in every case of water” promotion yesterday!
* * *
BTW, Joe Bob looks like he fits right in with all your other cats. How much longer will you have him and his sister before they go back to the store? I guess it takes longer for the adult cats to get adopted I’m not sure how much longer we’ll have them – it’s a matter of space being available at the pet store, and other cats being adopted first to free up space. Adult cats do tend to take longer to be adopted, but right now – since there aren’t nearly as many kittens available – is a good time for them. Joe Bob fits into the pack quite nicely, and I think that when it’s time for them to go back to the pet store, Tommy (who I’ve been calling the “Ambassador of Good Will” because he’s always the first And3rson kitty to make friends with the new guys) will miss him a bit.
* * *
Why are you recarpeting the Madison house before you put it up for sale? I’ve heard that is not necessary because what if the next owners want a different colour carpet or want to rip it up and put in hardwood? You’d have wasted big bucks for nothing. Have you asked a realtor about it? When we sold our house 2 years ago we had the realtor in a few months ahead of when we wanted to put the house up for sale and she went through the house and advised what we needed to do. I know in one room we were going to rip up the carpet and she said not to bother, just give it a good cleaning. There were a lot of things we were going to do and she said it would be a waste of time and not get us any more money. Unless the carpets are really, really nasty I would just get them professionally cleaned and leave it there. Just my 2 cents, why waste the money if you don’t have to? The carpet is so nasty that either we’re going to have to replace it, or offer a carpeting “allowance” to the new buyers. There’s no way on earth professional cleaning will get this carpet clean (no, don’t tell me to just give it a try – I saw how clean they got the carpet in the last house, and I was unimpressed), and any buyer with a clue is going to take one look at the carpet and either demand a carpet allowance, new carpet, or want to lower their offer. If we have new carpet installed ourselves, I think it’ll be cheaper in the long run.
* * *
Here is a question for you … Do you ever pick up your cats and cradle them like babies? And when/if you do, do they ever put their nasty litter-smelling paws on your lips? Certain cats (Mister Boogers, Miz Poo, sometimes Tommy) like to be picked up and cradled like babies. However, they don’t put their paws on my lips, and I am seriously grateful that they don’t!
* * *
In my comments the other day, Stephanie in GA said: Robyn, picture idea: naked. Okay. Self-portrait #17: And the outtakes: (Fred likes this one) I call this one “Oh, shit! Bubbles disappear, don’t they?” Are ya feelin’ bubbly, punk? Well? Are ya? (I’m sad to say, the bubble mohawk didn’t work out. Hmph.)
* * *
* * *
Previously 2006: I think it would be hilarious if someone started manufacturing imitation Maui Jim sunglasses and called them “Oahu James” sunglasses. 2005: I figure they’re professionals and know what they’re doing, so I have no desire to clutter up the small amount of space left in my brain with that kind of information. 2004: I sense that there is a battle of epic proportions in my future, a show-down between Miz Poo and I as to just WHO the blanket belongs to. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: But don’t tell Miz Poo I’m admiring another cat, please… 2000: It’s a conspiracy!]]>

1/25/07

by @ Thursday, January 25th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

* * * The week before last, reader Christine emailed me to tell me that she’d purchased something for me (or, actually, for the cats) and wanted to send it to me, but they wouldn’t deliver to a PO Box address and could she have my mailing address? I thought about it for a while, decided that since we’d occasionally traded emails for the past two years, she maybe wasn’t a psycho stalker and could be trusted with that top-secret information. (Plus, I have her address.) So I gave it to her and sat back to see if a gun-wielding crazy was going to show up on my front steps. Instead, I got a huge, heavy box, and on the outside it said “Cat tree.” Fred kept forgetting to bring his tools home to put it together, and finally remembered to do so on Sunday. The funny thing is that he ended up not needing any tools – the tree screwed together quite easily. And I must say – it’s a big hit with the cats. Sugarbutt and Tommy, especially, like to hang out in the top platform. No one’s tried out the “hammock” on the bottom, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. Thank you, Christine, on behalf of the cats. They told me that you RAWK! Myrtle (formerly known as Moondance) enjoys her solitude on the platform. She’s got the screech of a hellbeast, and she makes the other cats nervous. When she hangs out on the cat tree, they wisely stay away.

* * *
From my comments: Robyn, a question re: your eventual move. Are you going to sell your house in-town first and then move, or move into the Smallville house and sell your in-town house when it’s empty or partly empty? I don’t have as many cats but I do have kids and for me, having realtors come in unannounced or on short notice would be a problem. Originally, our plans were to move Fred and the cats into the Smallville house, recarpet the Madison house, and then put the Madison house up for sale while the spud and I stayed in Madison (so she wouldn’t have as far to drive to get to school). Last week I was thinking about it, and I realized that it was dumb for Fred to move to Smallville first, seeing as he’s the one who has to drive to work in Huntsville, and I’m not. So for now, the plans are to finish the Smallville house, move the cats and me out there, recarpet the Madison house, and put it up for sale while Fred and the spud live here. Obviously during the week I’ll drive from Smallville to Madison to keep the house clean and presentable for potential buyers, make dinner, and hang out with Fred and the spud until bedtime, whereupon I’ll drive back to Smallville, hang out with the kitties, and sleep there with the security system set and a gun under my pillow. I imagine that, with the cats at the Smallville house, it’ll be one hell of a lot easier to keep the Madison house clean!
* * *
Donna’s right: The next 8 photos could be you with each of your eight (yes, I said eight) cats. Then a photo of you with each of your foster kitties. Then go to other people’s houses and ask to pose with their kitties, or their lawn gnomes or something. Well, I’ve put up pictures of me with Newt and Maxi (aka: NotOurKitties), one with Miz Poo, and one with Tommy. I’m sure there’ll be more cat pictures in the future, but I’m having a good time imagining knocking on a random person’s door, saying “Hey. Can I take a picture of myself with your gnome? Thanks!”
* * *
What does your “Liz Claiborne Grandma purse” look like? This is the second day you mentioned it, and I have to see it! Well, not really have to, but have a burning desire to see the object of scorn. So I can hate it too. (And did you love the “Liz Claiborne Grandma purse” at one time?) Here it is: (The splotch of paint is in the upper left corner; it’s actually smaller than I remembered.) Now, let’s be clear: I do not hate the Liz Claiborne Grandma purse. I like it, I just hate that it didn’t work out for me. That is, I could fit everything in it, but it was hard to get to the stuff in the bottom of the purse, and that always drives me crazy. I’m sure it’ll work better for someone else!
* * *
Why is the Spud’s school being so hard-assed about absences? Don’t schools get all their funding as long as they get the required parental excusal? I have NO idea what their deal is, and I suspect that if I really pushed it, they’d accept a note from me as a valid excuse (well, actually, I think they’ll accept it anyway, but she doesn’t want it to count against her attendance. Or something. Can you tell I’m kind of fuzzy on the whole thing?)
* * *
Hi Robyn, I “recommend” that you have a “recommendation page” for products etc that you’ve tried and either liked or hated. I have gotten alot of good ideas from your site on different products. I swear upon all that is holy that I intend to do that. Maybe this weekend, since I won’t be going out to the house, I’ll get my ass in gear and get it done!
* * *
Do you let the fosters go outside w/the other kitties? We haven’t opened the cat door since we started letting Joe Bob and Myrtle out, because we don’t have extra collars to put on them, and they’re both quite fond of using their claws; I’d worry too much about them climbing the fence and being gone, and the shelter never ever letting me have another foster kitty. I’d love to have a couple of extra collars for just this situation, but they’re more than $80 apiece, plus when we move to Smallville we’re going to use netting over the top of the fence to keep the cats from getting out of the back yard rather than using collars, so it would be a pointless expense.
* * *
Tuesday, I had to take Fantine back to the vet. Her eyes had cleared up a bit from Friday (they gave me a triple antibiotic to put in her eyes), but had only gotten a little better, and weren’t healed yet, still goopy and crusty and bright pink around the eyelids. The vet gave her a hydrocortisone shot to bring down the swelling, and had me put her on doxycycline, to see if that would solve the problem. I got home from the vet’s, Fred and I ate dinner, we ran out to the Smallville house to check on the floors, then when we got home I boxed up Javert, Eponine, and Cosette, and took them to the pet store. At 7:30 the shelter manager called to let me know that Javert and Eponine had been adopted together! Now that’s what I like to hear – the only thing that would have made me happier would have been to hear that Cosette had been adopted as well. I’m hoping she’ll have been adopted by Monday. “Right now, I’m sitting in my new Mommy’s home!” As soon as I left to take the cats to the pet store, Fred let Fantine out of her room. She is such a sweet laid-back cat; she sniffed around and explored for a while, then ended up hanging out back in her own room for a good part of the evening.
* * *
Free hellcat in every case of water! (All of today’s uploaded pictures are here.)
* * *
I opened the cupboard to get out some potatoes to make mashed taters to have with our meatloaf last night, and saw this in the very back of the cupboard. I guess we’re getting a head start on all that gardening we’ll be doing in Smallville.
* * *
Self-portrait #16: One of us has litter on our nose. (Hint: It ain’t me.)
* * *
* * *
Previously 2006: “Thy-y-y-yme is my crack! Yes it is!” 2005: He emailed me back immediately. You’re already too old to die tragically young. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: And Mildred and Myrtle were hanging out merrily in their very sheer bright yellow bra, waving at all and sundry. 2001: Just thinking about it makes me grumpy. 2000: Y’all stay warm, now!]]>

1/24/07

by @ Wednesday, January 24th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

Or you can see a smaller (better) picture by going over to Fred’s site and downloading it off this page (the link’s toward the bottom).

* * *
The spud (who, by the way, made it safely to California yesterday) informed me Monday night that she needs to get “one of those cards from the funeral” to bring back with her, to prove that she was gone at a funeral. They’re only allowed so many “parents notes” absences each year, apparently, and to not use up one of those allowed absences, she needs proof in the form of a funeral card. I think that’s a little crass on the school’s part, but probably they have a problem with kids claiming they’ve missed school for a funeral when really they were hanging at the mall.
* * *
I think that y’all should know that there is nothing on this earth (aside from world peace (hee! I originally typed “world peach”!) of course) that I want more than an iPhone. Fred was all skeptical and pshaw-y about it until he took a good look at it, and now I think he wants one, too. I’d sell all the kitties into kitty slavery for an iPhone. And I will have one of my own by the end of the year, you mark my words, folks. Oh yes, I will.
* * *
From my comments: Who did the picture above the fireplace? The brothers [Tommy and Sugarbutt] are so cute, do they tend to stick together when with all the other cats? That picture was done by Zhen-Huan Lu. I saw it when I was in Maine one summer and fell in love with it! Tommy and Sugarbutt sometimes cuddle up when the other cats are around, but then sometimes go for days acting like they’ve never seen each other before. I guess it depends on whether they’re in the mood for love or not!
* * *
When Mister Boogers thinks about how much he hates us, is he thinking in a voice that sounds like Gollum from Lord of the Rings? Because that’s the voice I hear as I read his thoughts. In my head, he’s got a bit of the snooty French accent going on, but if you’d prefer to think of him sounding like Gollum, I can certainly see that, too!
* * *
Robyn, you and Fred are doing such a great job on the Smallville house. When you get it all done – or to the move-in stage, you should do a whole page of before and after pictures – including the yard. It’s been quite a transformation already! We definitely intend to put up a “before and after” page when we’re done, probably before we start moving stuff in. I wish I’d taken more pictures of the yard before we moved in; I can only find a couple, and it looks HUGELY different than it did when we moved it!
* * *
Oh my gosh! I didn’t think anyone else had even heard of “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas”!!! My husband thought I was making it up until I found it online and played it for him. Do you have this link? I didn’t have that link, but thanks to you, I do now! When I was in Pigeon Forge at Christmas, I kept cracking up my nephew by singing the song. Which reminds me, I need to send him that song in MP3, so he can drive his mother crazy with it…
* * *
Hi robyn – are you going to leave your packages on the front step for the postman to pick up so you don’t have to stand in line behind the crazy at the post office this year? If so, please let us know how that goes? I love the commercials, but I have little faith in my postal worker. I didn’t leave my packages on the front step for the postman to pick up, because I really don’t trust that they’d actually get picked up. I actually sent my packages out via UPS this year, because it’s a lot less expensive, and you get that convenient step-by-step tracking, which I didn’t realize until my sister pointed it out to me.
* * *
I love the purse picture telling what everything is! I have to ask..why so much tylenol though?! Just wondering – how many different kinds of Tylenol do you have?! I had, I think, three different types of Tylenol in my purse back when I took that picture of everything in my purse: regular Tylenol, fast-release Tylenol, and children’s Tylenol. I had the children’s Tylenol because I wasn’t sure how fast Tylenol would release into my system after surgery, and whether regular Tylenol would help at all. I determined that regular Tylenol does just fine, so currently I only carry a small bottle of regular Tylenol. The irony is that I need MAYBE one Tylenol a month (it’s okay to take very occasionally, according to my doctor), so I was carrying three years’ worth around with me!
* * *
I suppose I should have asked you long ago, because I have you linked on my journal under “Journals I read” or some such list. So. Do you mind that I have you linked? I won’t be offended if you’d like me to remove your name/link from the list, just let me know. I absolutely don’t mind being linked by people who read me, and no one even needs to ask permission. The only thing that’s really pissed me off when someone links to me is the one person who linked to me under a list of links entitled “People who link to me.” Well, I don’t link to her; I don’t even read her, though I’ve heard of her. Oh look at me, getting all pissed off about it all over again! I want to email her and demand she take me off her list o’ lies, but I’m going to take a deep breath and get the hell over myself instead.
* * *
Happy New Year, Robyn! Sounds like you all had a great time – boy, you sure can tell Brian and the Spud are related. Is it just the photos, or do they look enough alike to be brother and sister? They absolutely look enough alike to be brother and sister. When they’re together, people tend to assume they are brother and sister, actually, it’s funny how much they look alike.
* * *
Will you be cleaning the paint off wooden stairs? If so, what works best? I have to clean up some myself. I’ve found that the best way to get paint off wooden stairs is the use of Windex, a scrubby sponge (with the green scrubby side) and one hell of a lot of elbow grease.
* * *
When you’re ready to put in your new woodstove, are you going to consider a pellet stove? They make them to look just like wood stoves, and the type of heat radiation from the pellets is similar to wood heat, but they do not grossly pollute the air the way woodstove emmisions do. Word is that eventually there will be a ban on wood stoves, although I think the newer ones are less polluting (better catalytic conversion) and of course who knows how and when the EPA will actually put any type of ban into effect. I would like to consider a pellet stove, but word from Fred is that we won’t be considering them at this time. I’m interested in them, though – this might be a dumb question, but I assume that a pellet stove takes wooden pellets? Where does one get the wooden pellets to feed into the stove?
* * *
Did you ever decide on the best sports bra? The best sports bra, at least in my opinion, is the Enell. They make me look barrel-chested and kind of funny, but when you put one of those babies on, your boobs do NOT move and that can only be a good thing!
* * *
Did you get many duplicate cards? I’m always amazed that I only seem to get 1 or maybe 2 duplicates, though I get nowhere near the number you do. This year, I don’t think I got any duplicates at all! I don’t know if it’s because of a wider selection in the stores or because more of the cards I got were handmade, but no duplicates. Usually I get two of at least one card, but not this year!
* * *
So the other day Fred and I were despairing because Moondance was spending all her time hiding in her room (even though the door was open) or under the spud’s bed, and that is just NO existence for a cat. Then Fred got the bright idea of carrying her downstairs to see what she’d do, both of us fully expecting her to haul tail back upstairs, only she looked around, settled on the couch a few feet from Fred, and decided this whole “downstairs” thing wasn’t too bad. She’s settled into a routine of spending most of the day upstairs – with the occasional foray downstairs to see what’s going on – and once Fred gets home from work, she follows him downstairs and hangs out, giving him the Eyes of Love and all the other cats the Eyes of You-Go-To-Hell. It works out pretty well. She likes to show her butt as much as Mister Boogers does, and if the two of them ever got within a foot of each other, I’m fairly certain there’d be a nuclear-like explosion and we’d be screaming for Jack Bauer to save us. “I hate you, and you, and you, and especially you!” JoeBob (FNKAMM*) is a plant eater, much to my displeasure. At least he doesn’t barf up the leaves he eats on the carpet or the couch. Or at least not YET. Mudderly love. “I am IN the box, but I do not LIKE IT.” “Hey, I think Mom’s in the box!” “Mom, you in the box? What you doing in the box, Mom?” “Mom’s in the box! Hey look guys, Mom’s in the box!” “Hush up, you little monsters. Alls I want is some peace and quiet.” All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. *Formerly Known As MoonMan.
* * *
Self-portrait #15. “I’m sorry Healthy Back Bag, I swear I will NEVER toss you over for a Liz Claiborne Grandma purse again, I swear it! Forgive me?” Seriously, y’all. I’m two weeks into this daily self-portrait thing, and I’m out of ideas. How many damn ways can there be to take a picture of oneself? Give me some ideas to make it interesting, wouldya? (And skip the “We want to see full-body pictures of you in something that fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiits.” I’m holding off on that because I’ll be posting full-body pictures of me in something that fiiiiiiiiiiiits for my one-year Surgery anniversary next week.)
* * *
Previously 2006: “Y’all shut UP. I don’t hear you complaining when you run around FARTING on everyone.” 2005: Letters. 2004: No entry. 2003: I swear, I have no control over my body sometimes. 2002: The shithole on Goddard Street. 2001: Lucky for her I’ve calmed down to a growling grumpiness, or it wouldn’t be a very good time to be the spud. 2000: We’re a pathetic lot, aren’t we?]]>

1/23/07

by @ Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

here.

* * *
After using the Liz Claiborne Grandma purse (’cause it looks like something your Grandma would carry, apparently, at least according to Debbie and Fred) (not that I care, obviously, since that didn’t stop me from buying it) for a week, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not working for me. I’ve run back to my Healthy Back Bag and am begging for forgiveness. I’d sell my Liz Claiborne Grandma bag on eBay, but I’m a klutz and a dumbass (not necessarily in that order), and I got a splotch of white paint on it and can’t get it off, so it might end up on the Giveaway page one of these days.
* * *
From my comments: Hey, I know you and Fred are considering chickens/ducks, and thought you’d both enjoy reading this blog. Fred and I both read that blog already, actually. I think someone sent me the link back when we first bought the Smallville house and I check it from time to time. Last week or the week before, Fred sent me an email with a link to the blog and said something like “Check it out, she’s got chickens!”, and I got to tell him that I’d sent the link to him months ago (he “discovered” it via Google).
* * *
Okay, so how do you change out switches and plugs? I thought I needed professional help for that and low and behold Lil Robyn does it. Maybe you guys need a DIY blog. I would find it very useful. I intended to do an entry on this very thing this week, but didn’t get to take the pictures to do it over the weekend, so it’ll have to wait ’til after the floors are done!
* * *
I think I might know why people think you’re pregnant, and it might not be as bad as you think. When you were heavier, you were heavier all over. You didn’t look pregnant, just fat. Now you have a thin face, thin arms and thin legs, so if your stomach looks pooched out even a little bit, it might make you look pregnant. How many times do we hear that some movie star looks pregnant, and they’re not? It doesn’t take much on a thin person. That’s why even though you’ve lost tons of weight, NOW is when you’re being called pregnant. That’s Fred’s opinion on the topic, and I think you’re both probably right! We went out to lunch Sunday afternoon, and I found that when I got up from the table, I was sucking my gut in as hard as I could, so the ultra-friendly owner of the restaurant wouldn’t come running over yelling “You’re pregnant!” Heh.
* * *
Hey Robyn – you guys should get a sign for you door that says, “We do not accept solicitations.” It does deter a lot of folks. For those who chose to ignore it, you can always point to the sign and say, “I’m sorry, I have a firm policy of only doing business with people who know how the hell to read.” You can also put it on your voice mail: “This number does not accept solicitations, so please remove us from your call list immediately.” I’ve thought of that, and maybe we’ll do that, at least at the new house. I’ve also considered putting up a sign that says “No solicitation, no religion, no cookies, no candy, no strangers, no thanks. (But cats are always welcome)” I’m sure that would endear us to our neighbors!
* * *
What?!? No mention of the Scrubs musical, the best half hour of television EVER?! Only because we hadn’t watched it yet! We watched it Friday night… and Saturday night. And Sunday, too. In fact, I’m going to see if I can Torrent it and burn it to DVD. It was SO AWESOME, and amazing how many musical numbers they were able to fit into a half hour show. If you’re not watching Scrubs, you’re missing out, is all I’m saying.
* * *
What is cute Tommy wearing in that self-portait? (In this picture) Tommy’s wearing a collar that works with the electric fence out back, so he doesn’t go a-roaming. He, Sugarbutt, and Mister Boogers all wear them on days when we leave the cat door open (which we haven’t been doing a lot of lately because of the weather)
* * *
Hi Robyn – I’m sure you’ve mentioned this a dozen times, but I can’t seem to find the answer! You take such great pictures, what kind of camera do you use? The camera I use is a Sony Cybershot DSC-P200. My only gripe is that it doesn’t have as much of a zoom as I’d like, but other than that, I LOVE it! We’ve always had Sony digital cameras, and have always liked them a lot.
* * *
Old toilets are power flushers for megapoops and are the equivalent of gold to some people… you might want to rethink replacing them! Unfortunately, they’re not that old, just a few years old. They’re the cheap, crappy toilets with hardly any flushing power at all – and in the And3rson household, we need us some flushing power. We’re going to upgrade, though not to the $800 (!) toilets Fred’s stepmother was telling us about!
* * *
I too have a thing for Bam [Margera]. I didn’t realize it until I watched a marathon of his reality show one weekend and I think he is completely hot now although I’m not sure exactly why. Steve-O is completely gross even when he tries to “clean up” which is basically never. There are certain people who just look like they never bathe. They could spend half an hour in the shower with a Brillo pad and a bar of soap, and step out and still look like they’re dirty. Steve-O’s one of them. (Matthew McConaughey, bless his heart, is another. But maybe that’s just because he doesn’t wear deodorant. Also, Cameron Diaz.)
* * *
I love that shirt, where did Spud get it!?! I’m 99% sure she got it at Hot Topic; that where she does a lot of her shopping these days.
* * *
I was wondering though, does the shelter you volunteer for have dogs for adoption as well? Maybe you could foster some dogs and get to know them a little better and at the same time, find one that might work better for you guys. Nope, they sure don’t – they’re solely a cat shelter. They do have a couple of dogs at the shelter that belong to the shelter manager, but not for adoption. (More readers’ questions and comments in tomorrow’s entry!)
* * *
Self-portrait #14: Driving down 65 at 80 miles per hour. SO TALENTED.
* * *
Joe Bob (formerly known as Moonman) continues to make himself at home. Tom and Sugarbutt get their hate on. His name was Tommy! He was a showcat! With his tail straight in the air and a gut hung down to there! At the Copa-Copacatbanaaaaaaaaaa! Music and pimped-out Toms are always in fashion! At the Copacatbana! They fell in love!
* * *
Previously 2006: You can’t ride two horses with one ass. 2005: No entry. 2004: Damn Home Depot. 2003: Yep. READY FOR SPRING! 2002: Sam’s rocks. Just so you know. 2001: I don’t know how on earth I missed it the first time around. But I’m sure it was Fred’s fault. 2000: “Fred, is F-A-G a bad word?”]]>

1/22/07

by @ Monday, January 22nd, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

Newt is anxious to see the new floors!

* * *
Moonman has earned himself the nickname “Joe Bob” for no reason other than it’s a good nickname for him (also, I occasionally call him “Joseph Robert”). He’s integrated into the And3rson herd of cats pretty well (Mister Boogers continues to show his butt, but not nearly as often), and he does NOT like being put back into his room with Moondance at night. We continue to put him up at night because I value my sleep and don’t want to listen to Mister Boogers’ hysteria all night long. Moondance is a scaredy cat and either hangs out in their room all day (despite the fact that the door is open), or hides under the spud’s bed. She’s a sweet thing, but very, very timid. Poor baby. The Les Mis kitties are doing just fine. They came through the spaying and neutering with flying colors, no problems at all. The three females were pretty sleepy Friday evening and most of Saturday, but Javert was his usual energetic, mouthy self. If it wasn’t for the shaved back end, you’d never know he’d had himself some surgery. All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither.
* * *
Self-portrait #13: I suffer from Severe BedHeaditis. Self-portrait #12 is here, and #11 is here.
* * *
The spud’s paternal grandfather passed away over the weekend. He had prostate cancer, which went into remission for several years, then came back last year along with multiple myeloma. The spud’s going to California on Tuesday and staying until Sunday. She knew it was coming so at least it wasn’t a surprise, but I know she’s going to miss him an awful lot.
* * *
Previously 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: You don’t actually have to say the words “You’re a dumbass” to get the idea across, and thus when your wife is mad at you later and you so very innocently say “Are you mad about something?” and she says “YOU CALLED ME A DUMBASS!” and you say “I did NOT call you a dumbass!”, you are wrong and she is right and you’d best commence to begging for forgiveness, you fucker. 2003: Little bastard. 2002: I can’t believe I’m FUCKING FALLING DOWN. 2001: Oh, wait. I guess the worst part was actually the rectal exam. 2000: One thing you don’t particularly want to see is Tex running at you, let me tell ya.]]>

1/19/07

by @ Friday, January 19th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life

* * * Sorry folks, but it’s going to be a short one today – I’m dropping Fantine and the bebbes off at the vet, then spending the day at the Smallville house doing many things that I need to get done (door painting, closet painting, switching out switches and plugs), and just have no time for something longer. On the up side, since the floor guy will be working on the floors next week, I’ll have the whole week off (and believe you me, I’m looking forward to it!), and there should be updates in a timely manner alllll next week. ‘Til then, y’all have a good weekend! Self-portrait #10:

* * *
Previously 2006: A SHELL ON A STICK. 2005: Every movie and every show we watch, he’s in there deconstructing it. 2004: Memes. 2003: A day in the life of Spot J. And3rson. 2002: No entry. 2001: Blech. 2000: I now officially have too damn many books to read. ]]>

1/18/07

by @ Thursday, January 18th, 2007. Filed under Fostering, Life, New house

hands picture, for one – I’ve used the Gorillapod Fred gave me for Christmas. This year, Fred I swore to each other that we were only buying each other one thing. He wanted a mug from me, and I wanted the Gorillapod from him. And I have to say – the Gorillapod is one of the best Christmas presents I got. The other best present is a tote bag from my sister. It looks like this: But the really cool thing is that it folds up, like so: and it fits very nicely in my purse. I carry one in my purse at all times, and I had her buy me another three, which I leave in my car and take into the store with me if I think I’ll need more than one bag. They’re very sturdy, and SO convenient. (And Debbie’s saying “All the stuff I gave you for Christmas and THAT’s your favorite??” What can I say? The simplest things are the best.)

* * *
This is the name and brand of the color we used in the living room, for those who asked:
* * *
We went out to the house yesterday afternoon and met up with Fred’s father, stepmother, and their friend. The friend has known Fred for years and she’s moved away from Alabama but comes back to visit from time to time. I guess Fred’s parents had told her all about the house, and she wanted to see it. We spent a long time showing them around the house, talking about what we’d done and what we had left to do. The funny thing is that when I’m in one of the rooms we’ve finished, I look around and see all the small flaws and they bother me – until I look at a picture of what it looked like before, and then I think “This place looks AWESOME.” Anyway, we got the quote from the blinds guy, talked about it, talked about it, talked about it some more, and then decided we’d try putting up blinds from Lowe’s in one of the upstairs bedrooms and see (1) how it looked and (2) how much of a pain in the ass it was, and decide from there whether to go with the professional or not. Later in the evening, after we’d gotten home, Fred opened his email to find a quote from the tile guy (for around the showers). It wasn’t bad – ’til we realized the quote was PER SHOWER rather than for the whole job, and Fred decided to give tiling around the shower a try himself. While we watched American Idol last night, he sat and leafed through his tiling book. I think if the tiling goes well, he should hire himself out on the weekends to make some extra money. Momma needs some bon-bons, don’tchaknow.
* * *
Speaking of American Idol, did y’all see that really tall black woman? Here’s what I don’t get – they ask her how tall she is, she says “I’m 6’7″.” Simon says “In heels?” She says “Yes. I’m 6’4″ in flats.” Well, then. YOU’RE NOT 6’7″, ARE YOU?? NO YOU ARE NOT. IF YOU ARE 6’4″ IN FLATS, THAT IS HOW TALL YOU ARE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD; THOSE THREE INCHES ARE NOT HEIGHT INCHES THAT ARE YOURS, THEY ARE ONLY DUE TO YOUR HEELS AND YOU ARE NOT REALLY THAT HEIGHT. I turned to Fred and said “Well if we’re counting heel height, I guess I’m 5’7 1/2″. Hey! I should go stand on a ladder! If I use the tall one, I can claim I’m nine feet tall! I think that means I’m a little UNDERWEIGHT now, doesn’t it? Just call me Nicole Richie!” Good lord.
* * *
Self-portrait #9:
“What you lookin’ at, lady?”
* * *
In this section, pictures of stuff I didn’t buy when we were in Pigeon Forge, doing an amazing amount of shopping. Why didn’t I buy them? Because I have a limited amount of money and space. When I win the lottery and can buy a 30,000 square foot warehouse to put all my crap in, I’ll run right back to Pigeon Forge and snatch all this stuff up.
Money talks, but chocolate sings. Hike faster! I hear banjo music! (I actually did get this t-shirt for Fred) Sweet Lincoln’s mullet. (Debbie bought this at the Smoky Mountain Cat House) Why suffer in silence when I can moan, whimper, and complain? (My new motto!) Dull women have immaculate homes. Raising a teenager is like nailing Jello to a tree. I love you more today than yesterday. Yesterday you really pissed me off. I can’t remember if I’m the good sister or the evil one. Wrinkled was not one of the things I wanted to be when I grew up. The cops just pulled me over for carrying THESE GUNS. (This is very very “The Todd” from Scrubs, isn’t it?) Paddle faster! I hear banjo music! The nice part about living in a small town: When you don’t know what you’re doing, someone else always does. And my absolute favorite: It’s better to have loved and lost, than to live with a psycho for the rest of your life.
There are even more pictures of stuff I didn’t buy, here.
* * *
The fosters are continuing to do well. Fantine and her babies have been around long enough to garner nicknames from Fred. He calls Fantine “Momma” (and cats who have ever delivered kittens become “Momma” to him – that’s what he still calls Maxi, even), Eponine is “Scaredy Cat” (for obvious reasons), Cosette is “Litter Maid” because of all the time she spent in the litter box with her UTI, and Javert is “Little Brother.” We’ve been letting Moonman and Moondance out of their room for several hours a day. Everyone except Mister Boogers is taking it quite well (Miz Poo and Spot are mostly excited when we open the door because that means there’s another bowl of food they can stick their faces in). Tommy is the gentleman of the bunch; he and Moonman have been seen touching noses several times. Moonman is such a sweet, friendly guy and he’s worming his way into Fred’s heart. (No, we’re not adopting him! But Fred’s going to be sad to see him go.) Moondance. The best pictures are the one you get accidentally, I’ve found. Javert, the squeaky, always-talking little monster. It’s tiring, being this damn cute. Fantine falls asleep with her tongue sticking out. I love the look on her face, like “Do you believe what I’ve got to put up with?” All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2006: I’d be a lobster, ’cause they are yummy, and I would be bringing joy to someone after I die a horrible boiling death. 2005: Saturday I spent at least two hours – conservative estimate – finding and downloading a ringtone that sounds exactly like the “internal call” ring on 24. 2004: No entry. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: I’m quite the stylin’ bitchypoo, I really am. 2000: It’s the period that never ennnnnnds! Yes, it goes on and on my friends!]]>

[Bitchypoo is peeing-her-pants excited to be powered by WordPress.]