Every morning when I go around the house to open the blinds, Sugarbutt goes to each and every window and door and scratches wildly – though briefly – at the glass, as if this is the best way to get outside. It hasn’t worked for him yet, but of course hope springs eternal.
* * *
I think I’ve mentioned that I’d “discovered” the first season of
Work Out on Bravo. I downloaded all of the first season and watched it, then went ahead and downloaded what’s been aired of season 2, and now I’m all caught up.
I knew before I started watching this season, that
Doug had passed away. During the most recent show – at the end of the show, Doug was in the hospital and expected to recover – I noticed that every time he talked to the camera, he sounded hoarse and didn’t look well. I looked online to see if I could find out what he’d died of (maybe it’s morbid, I was just curious!), and all I could find were statements saying that he’d been unexpectedly hospitalized and then passed away.
On the most recent episode, it was revealed that he’d had a bad flu, leading to very bad dehydration, leading to kidney failure, and they needed to put him in a drug-induced coma to help him heal.
It’s sad, because he seemed like a real sweetheart of a guy – and he was pretty easy on the eyes, too.
On another note, anyone out there who’s been watching the show – is it just me, or does something seem to be going on with
Erika this season? My knee-jerk reaction is that she’s doing drugs, because her eyes seem so flat and dead. Am I the only one?
* * *
And while we’re on the topic of TV shows, if you haven’t seen the most recent episode of 24, skip to the next section.
Wednesday night, we watched this week’s 24. And in the part where Jack was shot in the chest and fell back, I was highly amused to see that as he fell backward, his leg kicked way up in the air. We went back and watched it several times, hooting each time at how high his leg kicked.
Then, of course, we compared it to how every single time someone in a show or movie falls down a flight of stairs or from a tall height – say the top of a building – when the next shot shows them laying unconscious or injured, they always ALWAYS have one leg kicked up behind them. Next time you’re watching something and someone falls, keep an eye out for the shot that shows them laying there – I guarantee they’ll have one leg kicked up behind them.
* * *
The other night, Fred and I went out to dinner – something we’ve been doing too often lately; I’m looking forward to the time when we both live in the same house, and we’re back on a dinner-at-home schedule.
Anyway, we went to a family restaurant, and got the salad bar. For his entrée, Fred got a hamburger, and I got a half rack of ribs.
(Oh, wait, those of you who like to be asshats, let me say it for you – “OMG! She’s eating ribs! She’s going to gain all her wait back! It goes to show u can’t have a dr mess with ur intestines and then expect everything to be ok! Lol!!!!!!!!”. Feel free to cut and paste, assholes, though I fully understand if you prefer something with a few more misspellings.)
I eat my ribs with a knife and fork because I am just that classy. The first couple of ribs were okay, but when I bit into the third rib, I became quickly aware that it was off. It tasted spoiled, so I did what you’re supposed to do when you taste something nasty.
“God, this is awful,” I said to Fred, holding out a rib to him. “Taste this!”
He did, made a face, and spit it out. “Yeah, there’s something wrong, there.” I was going to content myself with a couple of fries and call it good enough (“OMG! She ate two fries! Totally going to gain her weight back! Lol!”), but Fred had only eaten half of his burger with the full intention of telling me to take it home to have for lunch the next day, so I went ahead and ate that.
When the waitress came over to see if we wanted dessert (“OMG! She said the word dessert! She probly can’t even fit into her pants anymore! Lol!”), Fred told her that the ribs were spoiled or something, and she offered to bring me something else, but since I had half a burger to eat, I was fine and told her so.
She said she’d send the manager over, and then Fred proceeded to fret (he’s a fretter) (“OMG! She said cheddar! She must be so fat by now! Lol!”) about… well, I’m not sure what he was fretting about, really. I think the fact that we’d ordered two entrees but would only end up paying for one kind of bothered him, because he is a man who is honest to a fault, and he worried that the manager would feel we were taking advantage of the restaurant or something.
The manager didn’t seem to feel like there was any advantage taken, and she immediately took the ribs off the bill with no questions asked (though she did offer to replace the ribs with something else) and none of the employees pointed and shouted “Thieves!”, so all was good.
I don’t necessarily ever want to eat ribs again anytime soon, though.
Bleh.
* * *
Every morning when I go around the house to open the blinds, Sugarbutt goes to each and every window and door and scratches wildly – though briefly – at the glass, as if this is the best way to get outside. It hasn’t worked for him yet, but of course hope springs eternal.
* * *
The dragonflies weren’t crazy about the cold weather we had earlier this week.
* * *
I’ve tried many different things – small corded vacuums, small cordless vacuums, handheld vacuums – but at this point, there is nothing on earth that does a better job or is easier or more convenient to use to get litter off the linoleum floor in the laundry room than a good old, plain old-fashioned broom and dustpan.
Imagine that.
(I’m sure the Dyson would kick butt, but it’s currently living in Madison with Fred and the spud, and the canister vacuum we have here is a pain to drag out of the closet, so for now I’ll be sticking to the broom and dustpan.)
* * *
For those who are curious, the Litter Locker didn’t work out for me. For one, six cats just have too much output, so even though I was cleaning out the litter box twice a day, there was so much of it that it was making it difficult to rotate the wheel each time I scooped, and it just got to be a big, bulky hassle, so back to the store it went.
If we had fewer cats, it might be worth it, but with the six, it’s just not. Your mileage may vary, of course.
* * *
“You may not touch the Suggie toes.”
* * *
Are you going to be able to get internet in the new house or are you just having to live without from now on?
I cannot imagine a world where my husband would even consider buying a house that couldn’t have internet. High-speed internet, at that. After we’d found the house, before we even looked at the inside, the number one question Fred asked was, “Is it possible to get high-speed internet there?” Had the answer been “no”, we wouldn’t have even looked at the house.
Priorities, you know.
The only reason I don’t have internet in Smallville right now is because it would be silly to pay for internet at both houses (and also, we’ll need the router from the Madison house when we get internet in Smallville). I’ll definitely be getting internet – I shudder at the thought of not having it!
* * *
Okay, does Sugs rhyme with Suds or is it ‘Shhhugs’ with a silent ‘h’?
“Sugs” rhymes with “Boogs”, thus leading to some excellent rhyming when I bellow out the Snackin’ Time song every evening.
* * *
You have a doctorate in feline psychology, obviously!
and
Feline psychology sounds right up your alley, but I kind of like “infectious diseases specialist.” You know, like Dr. House. 🙂 “Epidemiologist” sounds more obscure, though.
and
Not sure about how cool the specialty is, or even if there will be enough room to input it, but my favorite word is otorhinolaryngology.
Dr. Robyn And3rson is a Feline Psychologist with a subspecialty in Otorhinolaryngological Epidemiology. It keeps her quite busy. (And leads to her referring to her very important self in the third person, obviously.)
* * *
I can’t remember if I read this on your blog, or if it was on Fred’s blog one of the days you linked to him for us to read something, but one of you mentioned re-reading either The Stand or The Dark Tower Series by Stephen King, then mentioned another book that you would re-read when you got done, because you were in the mood for epic novels. Or maybe you said long-assed books. Either way, I love the Stephen King books, and I’d love to know what other book you were talking about so I could purchase it for my own reading pleasure. Books are my crack, so thanks in advance for helping me out!
Fred reread
The Stand fairly recently, so it must have been something he mentioned. I asked him what else he reread around the same time, and he told me
Swan Song, which has the same sort of general end-of-the-world-as-we-know it (and I feel fine) theme. I adore both The Stand and Swan Song, and typing this in is making me want to reread Swan Song again.
* * *
Miss Maxi hangin’ in the back forty.
* * *
Previously
2006: Must… resist… evil… urge…
2005: “Ah JEEZUS, here she goes again with the Gatlinburg! She goes for four days and talks about it for four weeks!”
2004: Oh. My. Eyes.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: Entries I liked.
2000: No entry.]]>