Month: January 2008

YouTube link

 

So Brian (my husband) and I were late to the Netflix revolution, but we’ve made up a lot of time. Have you guys watched any episodes of Big Love yet? We’re addicted! I watched Big Love when it was on HBO, and I like it a lot, but Fred isn’t interested because he’s a HATER. I say any show that has the two most smackable faces in Hollywood on it (Bill Paxton and Chloe Sevigny) on it that still manages to catch and hold my attention has GOT to be a good one.

 

When you come to Maine this summer, would you want to do a meet up for your New England Fans? I think I just might! I’ll have to think harder about it as the time draws closer, though. New England area readers, should we have a meet up? A BitchyCon?

 

Just a thought: If you put the turkey breast side down, seems like all the juices would run down to the breast, doing a continual basting as it cooks, thus keeping the breast from drying out. Maybe that’s why it’s so good. I once read somewhere that that’s the best way to roast a turkey, upside down, so that the breast stays moist. If I could tell by looking at a turkey where the breast is (I’m hopeless when it comes to identifying the parts of a turkey), I’d be sure to do it that way every time.

 

I can’t remember if you answered this or not but if you were blindfolded and had kitties meowing at you, would know who was who just by their meow? I’d have to say yes – all the cats have very distinctive voices. I might mix up Sugarbutt and Tommy (they’re not very vocal), but I’m pretty sure I could identify all of them by voice.

 

Do you find your arms are sore after you use the Dyson? We just got the animal one and I use it at least once a week. I am not a gym rat by any means but my arms always hurt the next day after I use the Dyson. I don’t have any problems with sore arms after I use the Dyson, but that’s probably because I’m badass and all. I can see how you’d end up with sore arms, though – the Dyson requires some muscle to move it around, it’s definitely not self-propelled!

 

AND, I just got the handheld Dyson to use on the stairs. It’s better than a Dustbuster (or Dirt Devil or any other handheld that I’ve ever tried) but doesn’t do as good of a job as the full-blown Dyson. Over all, worth the money to not have to use the big Dyson on the stairs. And it looks like a flamethrower (according to the guy at Best Buy) so, y’know, there’s that. Oh, the handheld Dyson is definitely next on my list. My brother has one (that he uses to catch bugs with, heh!) and I tried it out when I was visiting, and it’s pretty nifty. God knows when I’m emptying out the shredder, I always wish I had a decent handheld vacuum with which to suck up the pieces of paper that fall all over the place!

 

I have a question about your Dyson vaccuum cleaner. What model do you have and are you satisfied with its performance? Can you turn off the beater bar so the wood floors don’t get damaged? I have the DC07 Dyson Animal (and according to Amazon, I’ve had it for four years, now!). I am absolutely satisfied with its performance, and I find that when I start to think “Hey, this isn’t working so well. Why did I love this stupid thing so much, again?!”, that means it’s time to clean the filter, because as soon as I clean, dry, and replace the filter, it works amazingly well again. You can turn the beater bar off – there’s a dial toward the bottom front of the machine that reads “carpet” and “bare floor”, and turning it to “bare floor” turns off the beater bar. I adore my Dyson, and I highly recommend it to everyone!

 

My Dyson just had its filter washed this week (I finally got around to it), and it seems to be much happier for it. I’m glad I listen to you. Isn’t it amazing, the difference a clean filter makes?! I think my new tagline should be “Just listen to me. You’ll be glad you did!”

 

I’ve lusted after a Dyson forever, but since we’ve ripped out all the carpet in the house, it just doesn’t seem practical anymore. I think I’m gonna try one of those Swiffer wet jet things instead. Maybe I’ll be motivated to clean. I bet it’ll help when we have the baby goats in the playpen! AHEM, Farmwife, ix-nay on the oat-gay talk! I don’t want Fred to get the idea that we should get little baby goats and put them in a playpen in the HOUSE. I use my Dyson on the hardwood floors and it does quite the fabulous job, believe me! (Speaking of Farmwife, this cracked me UP. I could totally see Miss Momma doing something like that – while Newt sat off to the side and shivered sadly.)

 

When you take a week off from writing in your journal, is it a relief or do you miss it? The first morning I wake up and think “I don’t have to do ANYTHING, I don’t have to write an entry and post it! I can just lay here in bed ALL DAY and read!”, and then ten minutes later I go “I don’t want to read.”, roll out of bed, get chores done, and by 10:00 I’m sitting there bored. I mean, I always find something to do – I got pretty well caught up on my TV shows, for one – but I actually do miss it. Not enough to come back early, obviously, but it does feel like there’s something missing in my day.

 

I do NOT have that kind of room in my freezer. Ever. EITHER ONE OF THEM. We have a full-size upright freezer, the freezer over our refrigerator in the kitchen, and the freezer in our refrigerator in the laundry room, and still I find myself grumbling as I move shit around trying to find a place for it. We don’t currently use the freezer in the garage (it’s not plugged in, even), but it’s earmarked for beef and chicken and pork in the future. I think we could just about use a walk-in freezer, sometimes!

 

Have you ever thought of getting one of those hairless cats? Fred would dearly love to have a Sphynx, but I am very much against it. It seems like their skin would be fragile, and I’d be afraid to pet it. Also, they’re ugly (and this is where Fred makes a crack about how ugly Miz Poo is because he’s a HATER). Also, NO MORE CATS. (Now that I’ve said that, you can expect an entry next week about how we adopted another cat, I’m sure.)

 

I LOVE the idea that the cats are turning Lupe on (er, you know what I mean)! Instead of yelling at them, you should TRAIN them to do it — pretty soon you’ll have an army of trained minion cats ready to do your bidding! If I thought I could really train them to do it right, I’d be all OVER that idea. But I think we all know that I’d get up in the morning and come out to find Lupe laying on her side with Miz Poo’s tail sticking out and cries of alarm from Miz Poo coming from inside Lupe.

 

Does Spot get pills or something else? Right now, Spot’s taking two pills and one liquid medication three pills. Once he’s feeling better, he’ll be on the thyroid pill once a day for the rest of his life. Luckily, Spot’s pretty easy to pill (especially for me, since Fred does the dirty work!).

 

How old is [Spot], anyway? We don’t know, exactly. He showed up on Fred’s doorstep before I moved down here, and was a kitten at the time. Fred says he had Spot at least two years before I moved down here, so we’re guessing he’s anywhere between 13 and 15.

 

Tell Boogs he is still king shit of turd mountain in my eyes. Kisses and Pill Pockets for Mr. Spot and his thyroid meds. We use the pill pockets at the shelter for our thyroid cat, they are like a miracle. Pilling cats has never been easier. Those Pill Pockets look COOL. Spot’s an easy cat to pill (Fred says it’s because he has no strength and can’t fight Fred off!), but I think I might pick up some of those just to keep around in case we have to pill one of the harder-to-pill cats in the future!

 

Booger can come to my house for some snackies! Although he’ll have to fight a big fat, wheezing calico for his share. 😉 He should be right at home, then – he currently has to fight a rapidly portlifying Siamese mix with a nasty streak – he can probably take on your fat, wheezing calico, no problem!

 

If you want to *really* freak out your cats, I have another suggestion. My son got me a Fur-Real kitten for Christmas. (Though mine is a black and white tuxedo kitten who did come with his own bottle). I keep mine mostly turned off to save the batteries (and to keep it from World Domination, which one of my friends thinks is the ultimate aim). But I did turn him on and presented him to one of our grown cats and to the litter of foster kittens we had. The thing purrs and meows and I believe those are recordings of a real kitten. The thing seriously freaked out the kittens and even the grown cat was sniffing the Fur-Real kitten just to check. He seemed to be saying, “It *looks* kinda like a kitten and it sure *sounds* like a kitten, but it doesn’t *smell* like a kitten. What is this thing????” I got quite a kick out of it. Oh, I NEED one of those!!! Anything that’ll freak the cats out is A-OK with me!

 

Question, though, from one catlady to another: Does the Roomba also pick up hairballs? I’m actually not sure whether you mean a hairball like one of the cats barfed up, or a hairball like a big ol’ tuft of cat fur such as those that roam freely around our house. On the first, I would have to say that I don’t know, because it hasn’t come across one yet, though if it were dry enough, I imagine it could pick it up. There’s one particular bag of catnip that lives somewhere in the laundry room. I don’t know where it lives, because I never see it when I’m picking up toys and shoes out of the laundry room, but after every time Lupe the Roomba goes around the laundry room, she picks it up with no problem at all (it’s slightly bigger than a teabag, if that helps). If you mean the second – the roaming dust bunnies comprised mostly of cat fur – then yes, Lupe the Roomba kicks ass and takes names with no hesitation whatsoever!

 

Wait. Does the Roomba ACTUALLY sing that song? I think I want one now just for that! However, I’m a little worried about the possible meanings of “be-boop you.” Maybe the Roomba is also into World Domination, like Diane’s FurReal kitten, and “be-boop you” has a sinister meaning? The Roomba doesn’t actually sing “For me about to clean, I be-boop you”, I just made up those words. It does sing a happy little cleaning tune, though. I have to say, although I support HUAR, when it comes right down to it, if a robot could get my floors spic-and-span with very little input from me, I don’t think I’d mind a little domination.

 

But a quick word of caution. We were told Roomba could sense stairs – and then we found at the bottom of the stairs one night. We got lucky and it works again, but we now have a virtual wall at the top of the stairs. Better safe than sorry. And we were almost very sorry. Oh, definitely – I used the virtual wall at the top of the stairs just to be safe. I’d hate to find Lupe dead at the bottom of the stairs!

 

I want a Roomba! Have you considered getting a Scooba? I want one of those too! I’m not sure how a Scooba would work on hardwood floors – I know I had a Bissell something-or-other that was supposed to do a good job cleaning floors (it was like a steam cleaner for floors), but it always left streaks. I’d rather have a dirty floor than a streaky one, is that weird?

 

On the Real Housewives, my biggest problem with Quinn, is actually her cleavage. It’s not attractive AT ALL, and it’s about a foot deep, yet she exposes it with every outfit. I end up just staring while she talks, and thinking “WHY? WHY would you continue to show that?” I cannot stand the cleavage on any of these women. I understand that big boobs are supposed to equal sexy, but how about a little MYSTERY, ladies? But yeah, Billy is such a know it all. Ever notice how weird his face is? There’s a strange line between his face and his hairline. He’s kind of abrasive and annoying, and I think he’s got plugs, personally. What do you think of her son shackin’ up with George’s ex-wife? Sickos! I… don’t think it’s a “shacking up” thing, I think it’s a kid needing a place to stay and finding the option that will hurt his mother the most and going for it. I don’t think there’s anything sexual between George’s ex-wife and Josh. I could be wrong – I just hope I’m not!

 

And just what does he do in [the coop]? I betcha a nanny-cam would catch him singing and baby-talking to the chickens in ways only millions of people on U-Tube could appreciate. While I wouldn’t discount the idea of Fred singing and baby-talking the chickens, these days when I say he’s out in the coop, it’s ’cause he’s out there building the new one, the Taj Mahal of chicken coops!

 

So did you throw the PG test away so that the next person in there didn’t think it was YOURS?! I’m one of those weirdos who throws extra t.p. into the port-a-potty so that the next person doesn’t think that stinky mess that was there BEFORE me was left BY me! I didn’t throw the pregnancy test away, because I couldn’t stand the thought of handling something that had someone else’s urine on it. ::shudder:: Although if there’d been a line of people waiting to get into the stall (it was completely empty when I was in there), I might have considered it.

 

Isn’t landing at National fun? Did you come in down the river? Beautiful sites… sure do miss that place. Yeah, we came down the river (though I couldn’t remember the name of it and had to ask Fred because the only river name I could think of was the Seine. Heh!) and it was so beautiful, seeing the reflecting pool and the monuments. It made me wish I had a longer layover so I could go out and do some exploring!

 

From someone who just had back surgery (herniated disc from LIFTING something heavy)-PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do NOT lift anything like that again! You hear me young lady? Yes ma’am! Although oddly, after I carried that TV upstairs, my arms and legs hurt the next day, but my back was just fine (and I know it only takes one injury for a lifetime of back pain!). I promise I’ll let someone else carry it next time – or ask for help!

 

Go here and buy this for Fred right now! Hee!! Fred said “If the CafePress shirts weren’t so flimsy, I’d love to have one!”

 

Since calico cats are always female; is it true, that white females with blue eyes are ALWAYS deaf? I have no idea! I know that white blue-eyed cats are sometimes deaf, but I hadn’t heard that white blue-eyed females are always deaf. Anyone out there know the answer to this one?

 

I love love love the brown chair in your brother’s house….It’s exactly what I’ve been looking for. Do you know where he got it? Lisa, I actually emailed you the answer to this, but in case you didn’t get my email, I asked my brother and he said A local furniture place in Hollywood, MD. Brand name is “England – a Laz-Z-Boy Company” It’s been several years, though.

 

Does Fred ever go to Maine with you? What is usually the reason? Would he be miserable and bored? Just curious, my hubby doesn’t like to do a whole lot with my family. Fred doesn’t go to Maine with me (he’s never been) because he doesn’t like to leave home – you’ll note we haven’t taken any vacations since we bought Crooked Acres! And both of us being gone at the same time now would require hiring someone to feed the cats (and scoop the litter boxes), let the chickens out in the morning and locking them up at night. I’ve thought about trying to convince him to take a trip to Vegas for our 10th anniversary in October, but I don’t think I’m going to have much luck. Fred doesn’t mind being around my family – it just has to be them visiting us rather than him having to get on a plane and go somewhere. He doesn’t get off the farm very often, and he likes it that way – he said to me “I’d rather be here than anywhere on earth!”

 

What is your all-time favorite TV show, and why… and what’s the one you can’t stand the most? I’d have to say it’s a tie between The Brady Bunch and Friends. If I’m flipping channels and come across either of those, I’ll stop and watch it to the end. I still miss Friends, damnit. As far as shows I can’t stand, I really don’t care for the trashy talk shows like Jerry Springer or others of that ilk – Jenny Jones is the other one that comes to mind. I also don’t like the court shows – Divorce Court, Judge Judy, Judge Joe Brown – though I used to like People’s Court when I was a kid. There are just too damn many of those court shows these days, though, and I can’t stand to watch any of them.

 

119? That’s hardly any reading at all! GFY, bragger. Hmph. and But yeah, I was all proud that I read 30 books this year. ::sigh:: and I read only 26 books last year. and I bust a gut last year and managed 32 books – I thought I was quite the reader! Y’all have JOBS, though. If I had a JOB, I might be more impressed with myself for reading 119 books, but I don’t – if I wanted, I could go back to bed right now and read all day long and no one could dock my pay (though the cats might come put their dirty-litter paws all over me, blech).

 

What’s Spot’s middle intial “J” stand for? He won’t tell me. I suspect “Jehosaphat”, but he will neither confirm nor deny.

 

What do you think about Britney? I think the whole situation is very, very sad. If someone could whisk her away from the public eye and get her into some hardcore therapy, she might be okay in a few years. I think that despite the fact that she says she wants to live a normal life and be left alone, the fact that she has gotten so much attention from such a young age means that as much as she hates it, she also craves it. She’s spinning out (what an insight, huh?) and if I had to guess, I’d say that within the year she’s either going to hit rock bottom and work her way out, or she’ll be dead and be spun into a dead-before-her-time Hollywood icon. And let me take a moment to say that I am HORRIFIED that Dr. Phil inserted himself into the middle of this mess. I mean, if he was working with the family, whatever, that’s great, but to go see Britney and then release a goddamn statement about it? What the fuck? He needs to learn to shut the fuck up. GOD. (Edited to add: Someone’s filed a complaint against Dr. Phil!)

 

Speaking of cooking, could you at some point talk a little more about your smoker? After reading about yours, I bought one (electric). The first turkey breast was mighty fine. The second … I might as well have saved some time and just licked an ashtray. Blech! Now I’m scared to waste more $$$, time and effort. I have never so much as touched the smoker, so I had to ask Fred about this. He’s never had an issue with our smoker and the only thing he could think of was, maybe you’re using too much wood? He said he uses about a chunk of wood an hour, if that helps.

 

“Sucks all the oxygen out of the room” in our family is known as the (person’s name) vortex. and “Sucks all the oxygen out of the room” – this is a relative of mine, who we often refer to as “the tornado”. and We use the phrase “Social Vampire” to describe people like that. and I worked for a chemical company for about 7 years. In some buildings they would need less oxygen (to make it non-flammable) so they piped in nitrogen to the buildings. I think the correct term for “Sucks all the oxygen out of the room” is “Nitrogen Blanket”. I love all of these, but my favorite has got to be Nitrogen Blanket. That is AWESOME!

 

“I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.” (flickr)

 

Previously 2007: Just call me Nicole Richie! 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!]]>

 

Comment-answering extravaganza tomorrow! Get ’em in while the gettin’ is good!

 

I’m sorry I scared some of you with my entry yesterday, but I can promise you that if Spot (or any of the cats) passes on, I will absolutely NOT do a FUNNY entry about it. Promise! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dear Peoples of the Innernets Readers: Thank you very much for your well-wishes, I greatly appreciate them. I am feeling a little better – I still like to hang out by my own self all the time, but occasionally I come out of hiding and sit and stare with great love at The Daddy for a while before I slink off for some privacy – and even The Momma thinks my eyes are brighter and I don’t look so ratty. Even though I never did look ratty, and I hate her. So thank you for your good wishes, and I will try to make that awful woman take more pictures of my beauty and put them up so you can be amazed by me on a more regular basis. Now, if you don’t mind, I was in the middle of napping, so go away. Sincerely, Spot J. And3rson. PS: For those concerned, Snackin’ Time has been reinstated. I hardly think it’s fair that EVERYONE BUT ME gets Snackin’ Time, but The Daddy distracts me while the other cats eat their Snackin’ Time, and I do enjoy a good brushing. The weird lady said that she couldn’t stand the sad faces at Snackin’ Time, which surprised me because I thought she was not only weird, but heartless. Guess I was wrong about the heartless part. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I finally got around to taking pictures of all the holiday cards I received this year, and you can see them here. I had intended to take pictures of them as they were displayed – attached to ribbons, hanging from the walls in the front room – but after I snapped a couple of pictures I realized it wasn’t going to work out, because it wasn’t possible to take the pictures from the right angle. So once I took the cards down, I laid them out and took pictures of them. I went through and blurred any last names off the cards, though I left first names on there. I also didn’t blur out any picture cards, but if anyone wants me, in the interest of privacy, to blur out their card, just say the word and I’ll do it immediately! I ended up getting 154 cards this year, and I loved every damn one of them. Thanks, you guys!

 

Know what annoys me? The fact that in 2005 I read 191 books, in 2006 I read 129 books, and in 2007 I read a paltry 119 books. It drives me CRAZY that my numbers have gone down so far between 2005 and 2007. I mean, I know that we were doing a lot of work on the house last year (and in 2006), but still. 119? That’s hardly any reading at all! It’s my goal in 2008 to read at least 150 books. 150 is a nice round number, and well within the realm of possibility, I think, so we’ll see how that goes. (Though it’s January 17th and I’m only on book number 5 for the year. I clearly need to settle my ass down and get some reading done!)

 

I didn’t have to go anywhere at all yesterday, and it was AWESOME. I thought I’d sleep in a bit, but I was awakened by the sound of Lupe the Roomba fighting with a big roll of bubble wrap, and I had to go out and disentangle her, put her back on her dock and then yell at the cats for setting her to cleaning for the SECOND TIME (the first time being before Fred left for work, so he heard Lupe sing and start cleaning and went to rescue her). I don’t know who did it, but I do know that Skittles likes to stand with her front paws on Lupe while she (Skittles, not Lupe) keeps an eye on the other cats, so it’s not out of the question that she accidentally hit the “clean” button. Once I was up, I wasn’t interested in trying to go back to sleep, so I cleaned out the litter boxes, set Lupe in the laundry room to clean, vacuumed the upstairs (and the stairs) with the Dyson. Then I got a couple of packages of black-eyed peas out of the freezer, put them in a pot on the stove with water, crushed garlic, an onion, a couple of chicken bouillon cubes and the bone from a pork shoulder we finished off over the weekend, and let it simmer for a couple of hours. Then I went back to bed for a little while and read. When I got bored with that (and with being harassed by Skittles, who is a sweet and loving cat, but knows not the concept of settling down to be petted, instead she has to stand on you and knead using her claws, and I can only take so much of that, even if she IS filled with love and purring loudly) I got up, folded and put away some laundry and then put the leftover turkey carcass (which we had for dinner Sunday) on to boil. I think the black-eyed peas ended up simmering for about three hours, and when I took out the bone from the pork shoulder, I found that there’d been more meat left on the bone than I’d realized, and after a quick call to Fred, we decided we’d use it as the main course for a meal at some point in the future, so I packed it up in a plastic container, let it cool, and then put it in the freezer. After I showered and dressed and cleaned up the kitchen, I had a couple of scrambled eggs and a small bowl of oatmeal for breakfast (a late breakfast, since it was almost 11), and then settled down in front of the TV. I watched the latest episode of Real Housewives of Orange County*, the second episode of Cashmere Mafia (I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it – I can’t stand the redhead, though, and I’m not crazy about Lucy Liu. Sex and the City, this ain’t. And that’s not a compliment. I’ll give it a few more episodes before I decide whether to keep watching it.), then decided the turkey had been simmering long enough, scooped it out into a bowl to cool (in the refrigerator), put some rice on to cook, and went back to watch… something else. I don’t remember what, though. I actually ended up clearing all my shows off the DVR, and had to turn to the The O.C. disk I’ve had for months. I watched an episode, then Fred got home and I decided I was done watching TV. At some point during the afternoon, I went through the turkey and pulled all the meat off the bones and shredded it, then took two small casserole dishes, put a layer of rice, a layer of turkey and a layer of turkey gravy, then covered each dish with tinfoil and stuck them in the freezer. When we’re in the mood for turkey and rice casserole, all I’ll need to do is butter some crumbs, put them on top of the casserole, and bake. Yum! Speaking of the turkey, I don’t know how I did it, but on Sunday I made the BEST turkey I’ve ever made. It was still slightly frozen when I put it in the roaster, so maybe that was it, and I roasted it breast-down (not on purpose – I cannot for the life of me tell when a turkey is breast-up or breast-down, it’s one of my many failings), so maybe THAT was it, but whatever the hell I did, that was some FINE turkey. And also, speaking of food, last week I made a batch of black-eyed peas with crushed garlic, a chopped onion, and a chopped piece of turkey bacon, and Fred swore they were the best black-eyed peas he’d ever had. I am SUCH the Suzy Homemaker.

 

*My opinion on this week’s The Real Housewives of Orange County, cut and pasted from an email: Quinn drives me CRAZY, and I don’t know if it’s her hypocrisy (I love how one minute she’s all “Praise the lawd!” with her mother, and the next she’s all “I must release my physical side! I am a sensual woman!”, oh is THAT what it says in the bible, don’t sleep with people you’re not married to EXCEPT when you have to release your physical side? Yeah, I know, she covered it with “Jesus didn’t come to save the perfect people, he came to save THE SINNERZ!”) or the fact that she and Billy are SO AWKWARD around each other (though I’ll concede that maybe it’s just because the cameras are around), but I can tell you that I cannot STAND the way she says his name. I can’t even describe the way she says it, but it drives me up a WALL. And I don’t know about Billy, that man must have hidden talents or something, because he comes across as kind of sleazy and smug and UGH. Tamra drives me crazy too, with her “OMG! I AM SO OLD!” and the botox and talking about getting a FACE LIFT, but y’know, last week when she was going to get smaller implants put in (after the doctor told her she wouldn’t be happy without any implants at all) and Simon said something like “I wouldn’t be happy with little mosquito bites”, I just wanted to smack him. I mean, god almighty – does it occur to him that her breasts aren’t about HIM? He’s an ass. They’re both asses, and the fact that her kid is spoiled rotten and only wants to party and have money handed to him – where does she think that CAME from? Did you see the flashbacks with Lauri to the first season? She’s CLEARLY had some work done since, and it’s not to her benefit. I just don’t get why women would do that to their faces! She’s just so scary and plastic looking, and I don’t get how that’s attractive to George. He might as well be marrying a RealDoll! Vicki needs to watch her step – she’s going to end up with her ass divorced and Jeana married to her husband if she doesn’t watch out (though honestly I don’t really think Jeana would do that – they’re just trying to make it look that way). She can claim that she’s having the time of her life, but she is a ticking timebomb and she’s one of those people who sucks the oxygen right out of the room and has a temper tantrum if she thinks she’s not the center of attention. The shrieking – MY GOD, the shrieking!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Newtles and his stuck-out tongue. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Previously 2007: An entry in pictures. 2006: I’m not germ-phobic or anything, but GAG ME. 2005: Stuff I Bought. 2004: No entry. 2003: Frequently asked questions. 2002: I love me some messing around with the camera. 2001: I was being subjected to porn without realizing it! 2000: Ben and me, we had sex in the back of a van.]]>

Dear Peoples of the Innernets Readers: I tried and tried to tell The Momma and The Daddy. I tried and tried to make them see that Old Scruffy Spot was getting too skinny. But Old Scruffy Skinny Spot likes to hide from peoples, and he maybe doesn’t hide so much from the Momma and Daddy peoples, but he also doesn’t go out of his way to hang with them, probably because they are human and thus below him. So even though I myself would get up on The Momma’s desk and put my butt in her face, and then run off when she yells “OH MY GOD BUDDY DID YOU JUST FART ON ME?!” and then get back up on her desk and waggle my stump at her and then run away when she yells “WHY MUST YOU PUT YOUR STUMP RIGHT THERE SO I CAN’T SEE WHAT I’M READING?!” and then get BACK up on her desk, she is so dumb that she didn’t get the very clear message that Hey! Old Scruffy Skinny Stinky Spot is getting too skinny and he spends all his Scruffy Skinny Stinky time hovering over the water bowl! You can’t blame The Momma and The Daddy. Humans are just so stupid, that’s the way they is made. If this doesn’t say screamingly dim and crazy, I don’t know what will: I almost took her stupid head off right then and there, I tells you. Anyway. Old Scruffy Skinny Stinky Stupid Spot was spending all his old scruffy skinny stinky stupid time hovering over the water bowl in the upstairs bathroom or hovering in the kitchen if The Momma put so much as one toe in there, because Spot is scruffy and skinny and stinky and stupid, but he is still a CAT, and he is wily and he knows with his instincts that if The Momma is in the kitchen, sooner or later she will fondle and grope some food, and sometimes she puts food on the floor, and Spot gulps that food down before a less wily and stinky cat could even get his face near that food. Also, Stinky Old Spot was not cleaning himself, and that to me is a big red flag and sometimes I would lick him on his head, but I have only so much licking in me, I can’t spend all my licking on Stinky Old Spot, I have to lick the others too, or they get jealous. The Momma and The Daddy are, let’s face it, very bad staff and very stupid humans, and so they would shrug and say “He does look ratty, but he’s getting elderly!” ELDERLY! He is not ELDERLY, he is in the prime of his life! He is SPRY! He can jump up on the guest bedroom bed and he can settle down in the cat bed in the sun and he can power nap like nobody’s business! He is OLD, but he is not ELDERLY. The nerve. And then a few days ago, The Daddy got a great big cluebox upside his big round stupid human head, because Old Spry Stinky Scruffy Spot was sitting on The Daddy’s desk and Old Spry Stinky Scruffy Spot would not move, even though The Daddy would say “Okay, Buddy, move!” and then he’d poke at Old Spot and Old Spot would give him The Eye and turn away like The Daddy did not exist and The Daddy would say “Buddy, come on. Daddy needs to sit there!” and Old Spot would just ignore and ignore. By the way, I am WISE to your stupid human game of calling all the boy cats “Buddy” so you don’t have to strain your two brain cells and remember what our true names is, DADDY. Also, MOMMA. So then The Daddy finally decided that No Cat would come between him and the ear-hurting Boogie-scaring game on the computer, and The Daddy reached down and picked up Stinky Spry Spot and The Daddy said “Holy cow. When was the last time you picked up Spot?” and The Momma said “Uh. Never?” and The Daddy said “He’s lost way too much weight. He’s way too skinny! Pick him up!” And The Momma picked him up and she made a face that made Spot’s self-esteem plummet into the basement. HAHAHAHAHA! HA! HA! HEE! Oh, I am so funny. Like a HUMAN could ever do anything to a cat’s self-esteem even if the idiot human took a three-year course in destroying a cat’s self-esteem it could not happen because who cares what humans think? I are the funniest! Stupid humans. Anyways, The Momma was all “Ew! And he feels all greasy. I think he maybe has stopped grooming completely, he’s not even trying!” So I jumped up on her desk and put my stump in her face and did a little victory waggle because HELLO! Did I not try to tell her that one hundred thousand times before? Whycome does she never LISTEN to me? Last night, The Daddy got home from work and he picked up Old Stinky Smelly Spry Spot and put him in my nap box, and then he closed the top of my nap place, and Spry Stinky Scruffy Spot yelled “Hey! Not funny! Let me out!” and then The Daddy took him out the door to the outside, not the outside where I get to go when I have my zappin’ collar on, but the other outside, where I never get to go because THEY HATE ME and there are more birds and squirrels there than in the best Cat Paradise, and they want me to starve to death. Some time went by, I know it was at least two naps and maybe a snack, but it wasn’t dark out, which meant it wasn’t time for me to race around the house as loud as I could, yelling war cries at Miz Poo and Sugarbutt and Tommy and Miss Stank and those other two who don’t belong here, so I have to show them who the boss is (answer: ME), so what was I saying? Oh, time passed and then The Daddy brought Spot home, and I waited and waited for The Daddy to let Spot out of my nap box so I could sniff him over and decide he smelled like The Scary Place Where They Always Put Something Up Your Butt and pretend I didn’t know him and smack him and chase him around and yell my war cry at him, but The Daddy and The Mommy had a conversation first. “Blah blah blah blah!” said The Momma. “Blah blah pretty sick,” said The Daddy. “Blah?” “Blah blah pancreatitis, blah blah kidneys, blah blah thyroid.” “Blah?” “Blah blah blah three weeks blah blah. Blah blah this medicine blah blah that medicine blah blah thyroid medicine FOREVER.” “Blah?” “Oh,” said The Daddy, “Blah blah see him again in three weeks.” So The Momma ran upstairs and dumped fresh litter into a clean litter box – for Stupid Stinky Smelly Spry Old Spot! Fresh litter! He wouldn’t notice if she put six-week-used never-cleaned litter in a box for his Stupid Spry self! – and put food and water bowls in the guest bedroom and The Daddy came upstairs with Stupid Skinny Spot in my nap box, and then he picked me up and put me OUT of the guest bedroom and said “Get out, dummy”, which is his special love name for me, and then they shut the door with Stupid Stinky Spry Old Spot inside the room and the rest of us outside the room, and is that fair? (Answer: NO) And then, before Snackin’ Time, The Daddy went upstairs and spent some time with Stinky Scruffy Spot and then he came downstairs and then went BACK upstairs and spent MORE time with Smelly Old Spot, and then I got a little nervous, because everyone knows that I am King of This House, and why should The Daddy spend so much time with Stupid Old Scared Spot, who only wants to be alone, unless Stupid Stanky Spot is planning on making a bid for the ruling position? The Momma FINALLY did the Snackin’ Time call, and The Daddy said “Do it quietly, we don’t want Spot to hear!”, and then I waggled my stump, because it became clear to me that Stupid Stanky Spot was actually going to move DOWN the Ladder of Importance to the very bottom where he BELONGS (because all cats who are not me belong on the bottom rung of the Ladder of Importance), and The Daddy just felt bad for him. We were all eating our Snackin’ Time, and Miss Stank was moving from her plate to mine BECAUSE SHE IS A PIG when The Daddy said “What if we let Spot out of the room and we just fed them all the special food?” and The Momma said “Okay.” and The Daddy went up and let Stupid Stinky Spot out of the room and Stupid Old Spot came sauntering down the stairs like he was the KING OF EVERYTHING (HE IS NOT. I AM.) and he sniffed around our Snackin’ Time and The Daddy said “Make sure he doesn’t eat any of that!” and The Mommy stood over Smelly Old Spry Spot and wouldn’t let him eat any of it, and I waggled my stump with glee. And then they emptied our food out of our food bowls and filled it with new stuff, and I had to bite Sugarbutt on the back of his neck because he was between me and the New! Food! and he forgets that I am his Lord and Ruler sometimes, because he’s just a stupid orange happy dumb purring kitty. So then The Momma and The Daddy were sitting in front of the loud box that scares me sometimes (Booger don’t like loud bass) and The Momma said words that sent chills down my stump. “We could just suspend Snackin’ Time until Spot can go back to regular food,” she said. And then The Daddy said words that sent chills down my stump AGAIN. “Yeah, we should,” he said. Peoples of the Innernets Readers, I throw myself upon your mercy. If there is ANY way you can come get me and bring me to your home where I can be king of the castle and I can have Snackin’ Time (preferably twice a day) and you will love and treasure and appreciate me THE WAY THESE HATEFUL PEOPLES CLEARLY DO NOT, I will be waiting on the cement pad, bitching at the chickens and giving Tommy and Sugarbutt the occasional smack because they need it to keep them in line. Who will keep them in line when I am gone? I don’t know. I don’t know who will take over my job here as King of Everything, but in a world where there is no Snackin’ Time, I do not care. I am overworked and unappreciated, and it is time for me to move along to greener pastures where I will be properly worshiped. Come when you can. I’ll be waiting. Sincerely, Mister Stanley J. Boogerton, Esquire. __________________________ Edited to add: Spot was diagnosed with pancreatitis, his kidneys weren’t working right, and he’s got an underactive thyroid. The vet says that with the medication and special food, he should recover (though he’ll be on the thyroid medication for the rest of his life). He seems to be feeling better, though with Spot it’s kind of hard to tell – he didn’t seem like he was feeling sick to start with, and if we hadn’t realized how thin he’d gotten (7 1/2 pounds), I shudder to think what would have happened. Poor Spot. We feel like evil cat abusers for not realizing how ill he’d gotten, but when a cat spends all his time avoiding people – and all his time when he’s around people looking very happy and purring as loudly as possible – it’s not something you notice. Hopefully the fact that he’s suddenly getting all kinds of attention from us won’t stress him out too badly!

 

Previously 2007: I suspect this behavior will not go over well with the ass-showing Mister Boogers. 2006: Things you may not know about me. 2005: No entry. 2004: I put too much perfume on this morning and now I’m sitting here with the stank rays shooting off me in every direction. 2003: And on the way home, he recounted, word-for-word a conversation he, his doctor, and I had had, only he substituted the nurse for me, and had her saying what I’d said. 2002: Ever hear of “Shut up, Junior, that’s rude, and the next time you say it, you’re going to your room for the rest of the day”? 2001: I’m such a ditz sometimes 2000: I’ve turned into such an old lady.]]>

I’m cutting and pasting this from someone else’s site, just to explain why I’m linking to The Laurie Project. I know a girl named Laurie. Laurie has fiery red hair and pretty eyes and a big smile. She’s sweet and sincere and one of the most selfless people I know. She’s one of those people who get it, and if you’re one of them, too, you know what that means, and if you’re not, there’s no point trying to explain. Laurie has cancer. Things have been getting harder and harder for her and her husband as time goes by. He makes a good living, but the cost of cancer is astronomical. Add in the cost of traveling for treatment, of medication, of hotels and just… living–bills and food and clothes and gas–and they are hitting bottom. Laurie went to get 2 weeks’ worth of medications today and her card was declined; they are out of money. The total for two weeks came to $383. I know I wouldn’t be able to afford that even once, certainly not every two weeks. But maybe a lot of us together can afford it, at least once, at least to give this girl a break for a change. She needs her medications to live. This is important. I know Christmas just passed, and I know everyone is broke and poor and hurting; I know everyone needs something. But if you can spare even five dollars, ten dollars, twenty-three cents, at this point it will help. Laurie is gearing up to go to the Mayo Clinic for a month or more of treatment, which is no doubt going to be a huge expense as it is–but she needs to be healthy enough to get there. She needs medicine. I don’t really do begging, but for her, I will. Please. Anything?

 

I bitch about Fred never listening to (or retaining) anything I tell him, but we had several conversations last week that show a different story. “I had some Barbecue Doritos when I was in Maine,” I said. “They were pretty good!” “Oh, really? I read somewhere that Pringles has a new guacamole flavor, and they’re pretty good. Guacamole or spicy guacamole, I don’t remember which.” “Huh.” (Two days later) “I checked at the grocery store, and there were no Jalapeno Doritos,” I said. (Confused silence from Fred.) “There were Habanero Doritos, though.” (More confused silence from Fred.) “You know, the Jalapeno Doritos you were talking about the other night?” I said patronizingly. “I said Pringles,” Fred said. “And I said Guacamole Pringles.” “Huh.” (Two days later.) “Hey, I’m at the grocery store. I don’t see any Guacamole Doritos. Do you want me to buy you some Habanero Doritos?” (Confused silence from Fred.) (Me, waiting.) “I SAID Guacamole PRINGLES, not Doritos.” “Huh. Well, I don’t see Guacamole Pringles either. You want the Jalapeno Pringles?” I said. “I didn’t say I WANTED the Guacamole Pringles, just that someone said they were pretty good.” “Huh. So no Doritos?” “No.” “And no Pringles?” “NO.” My plan to drive him to drink is coming right along.

 

So I don’t believe I mentioned that the Roomba arrived the day before I left for Maine. I didn’t even take it out of the box, because I wanted to have TIME to deal with learning how it works and all that, and one day is certainly not enough TIME. Also, when I get something new, I have to kind of live with the fact that it exists before I actually take it out of the box and learn how it works. I do this by sticking the box in a random corner and ignoring it for several days. I don’t know why I am unable to take it out of the box right away and mess with it, but at the ripe old age of 40, it’s just something I’ve accepted about myself. When I got back from Maine, it was still sitting near the front door, stashed behind a side table, and I proceeded to ignore it for a few more days. Then – Thursday I think it was – I finally took it out of the box and plugged it in to charge. Friday morning, after a good look through the booklet, I set it in the middle of the dining room, pushed the button in the middle, listened to it singing a happy song of “For me about to clean, I be-boop you”, and then it started moving in what appeared to be random patterns throughout the room, sucking up every bit of cat hair and kitty litter and bits of dust it came across. I watched it for a few minutes – as did a couple of the cats – and then went off to do something. An hour or so later, I realized it wasn’t running, and so I went on a search for it and found it in the living room flashing an unhappy red light. It had come across a cat toy – one of those feather-on-a-stick toys – sucked it halfway up, and then realized that it was in DANGER WILL ROBINSON! and stopped. I pulled out the toy, reset it, and went off to wander randomly around the house. The cats are a little wary of it, but not nearly as freaked out or interested by it as I thought they’d be. Mister Boogers and Miz Poo will just sit and watch it until it gets to within a foot or so, then they’ll sashay off. Other cats watch it from on high, and on Saturday morning when I set it to vacuuming the laundry room, Elle got rawther freaked out by it, puffing up to twice her size and watching it move around before she ran off. All in all, I like the Roomba. It doesn’t get a room as clean as I would with my trusty Dyson, but it will certainly help cut down on the amount of vacuuming I have to do. It does the best job in rooms that are either all hardwood (the computer room or dining room) or all carpet (the guest bedroom). In the rooms where it has to do both hardwood and rugs, it leaves stuff around the edge of the rugs, and – though this might just because the rugs we have are pretty thick – leaves occasional tufts of cat hair on the rugs. I also discovered pretty quickly that what works best for me is to use the virtual walls to make it so the Roomba is limited to one or two rooms. If I let it go willy-nilly through the entire first floor, it doesn’t do a complete job in any one room before it goes zipping off into another room. What ROCKS about the Roomba is being able to set it free in my bedroom or Fred’s – neither of us has a rug in our room – and having it collect up the sixteen pounds of dust bunnies that have been living under the beds. I get under the beds every now and then with the Dyson, but it’s hard to get every inch of that space, and the Roomba did the job quite well. On Friday while the Roomba was working downstairs, I was vacuuming with the Dyson upstairs, and it made me weirdly happy, this feeling that I had a partner in cleaning. I had decided to name the Roomba Lupe, after the housekeeper in Arrested Development, and then I read the Wikipedia entry about Lupe, and there you go. (I haven’t seen those episodes of Arrested Development yet, which makes it even funnier to me.) So, yeah – so far I’m loving the Roomba. Yesterday morning I cleaned out the litter boxes, put Lupe in the laundry room, and she was done before I left to go to the pet store for my Monday morning stint with the cats. The laundry room is the worst part in the house, between the cat food kicked all over the place, the stuff tracked in from the back yard, and the litter from the litter boxes. Just the job Lupe does in the laundry room makes her worth the purchase price. At this point, my plan is to let Lupe loose in the rooms that need it each day, and then do a Dyson vacuum once or twice a week. It’s just too bad that she can’t do the stairs, but I can run the Swiffer over the stairs in no time flat, so it’s not a big deal. The day Dyson and iRobot team up and create a Dy-mba that can do stairs, it will be ALL OVER.

 

Slap fight! Slap fight! (Picture taken last week before I carted Punki and Felicia off to the pet store.)

 

Previously 2007: No entry. 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: Does it wuv it’s daddy? Why, yes. Yes, it does. 2003: No entry. 2002: SHE IS A PORTLY CAT WITH A PORTLY ASS. 2001: I made one quietly to myself, and personal resolution I guess you’d call it, and it was a rather vague one. This resolution went as follows: “This year I will do something that scares me.” 2000: I’m a spoiled rotten brat, that’s what I am.]]>

new logo! This one was created by reader Christine. Damn that Bob – he never shares the good stuff! Thanks, Christine! Also, I need a logo for February and beyond, if anyone’s interested!

 

Boy, that was a relaxing week off! (flickr) I flew home on Monday, this time flying on US Air. I tell you what, if I ever try to claim that all airlines are alike, feel free to smack me directly upside the head. Flying on US Air after flying on Northwest was like going from traveling in the back seat of a Beetle to traveling in the back seat of a limo. Not that the plane was all that new or fancy, but there was at least plenty of room for my legs under the seat, even with my super-stuffed laptop bag shoved under there. ALSO they gave little bags of pretzels with the beverage service, and I don’t even like pretzels but it’s still the principle of the thing. They gave out snacks, even if they were minuscule bags of pretzels, rather than expecting you to pay $2 for a little can of Pringles. Interesting place to take (and leave) a pregnancy test, don’t you think? Interesting beverage to drink while taking the test, too. (NO it isn’t MINE) I’d love to know the story behind this – if it was a traveler passing through, someone who works at the airport, someone dropping someone off to catch a flight, or something else altogether. (flickr) Negative. Good news or sad news, I wonder? (flickr) The first leg was from Portland to Washington National, and I don’t know if I’ve never flown into National before or if I just don’t remember, but it was very neat, flying into the city and seeing all the monuments I’ve only ever seen from the ground. My gripe about National was that I had to exit one part of the airport and then go through security again to get to my gate and I really fucking loathe the whole shoes-off-jacket-off-laptop-out-show-ticket-to-security-agent bullshit, but it wasn’t all that busy, so it went pretty quickly and wasn’t all that painful. The security agent (?) who looked over my ticket and my license before I went through security did this thing where he’d look intently at my license and then flick his eyes up to my face and stare, then back to the license, then back to my face to stare. If I hadn’t seen him do the exact same thing to the people in front of me, I would have gotten worried that this was going to be the time they weren’t going to let me through security (since the picture on my license was taken 150 or so pounds ago) and I’d have to rent a car and drive the rest of the way home. He let me through, though. He also looked a lot like Kenneth from 30 Rock. I got lunch at a cart, and sat by my gate to eat lunch, then tried connecting to the wireless internet. I had no luck, I don’t know if it was just where I was sitting or what, so I played a couple of games of Snood, packed my carryon back up, and popped over to the store to buy a bottle of water and a Washington DC sweatshirt because I only bought WAY too many clothes when I was in Maine and apparently hadn’t gotten the shopping out of my system just yet. I landed in Huntsville right on time, got my luggage, and met Fred in front of the terminal in short-term parking. We stopped to pick up sandwiches at Subway (if it wasn’t so close to dark, I probably could have convinced him to take me out to dinner, but WE MUST NOT ALLOW THE CHICKENS TO REMAIN AT LARGE AFTER DARK DUE TO POSSIBLE PREDATORS) for dinner, and then we were home. The cats milled about while I put all my stuff away, and they climbed on the suitcase and my laptop bag and hissed and smacked at each other, the way they always do when something new is going on, but by the time we settled down to watch TV, the cats had decided there was nothing exciting going on, and life went back to normal. I spent a good part of Tuesday running errands, cleaning the house, doing laundry. You know, all the fun stuff. I ran to the pet store to see if Elle and Skittles had been adopted yet. They hadn’t, although there were lots of empty cages that indicated the weekend had been a good adoption weekend. My foster kitties aren’t getting adopted but it appears other kitties are getting adopted just fine. Wednesday – my birthday – I celebrated by having my teeth cleaned. Happy 40th birthday to me! Friday I boxed Punki and Felicia up and took them to the pet store. Since Elle and Skittles hadn’t been adopted, when I asked the shelter manager if there was room for Punki and Felicia at the pet store, she said there was, but they’d have to share a cage with Elle and Skittles. The cage Elle and Skittles were in was a big one, but really too small for 4 8 month-old kittens. I asked Fred if he minded if I brought Elle and Skittles back home with me so they wouldn’t be stuck four in a cage, and he agreed pretty quickly. Punki’s almost got the look o’ het down pat. Punki and Felicia were less than thrilled at being left in a cage, and Elle and Skittles weren’t too thrilled about being put in carriers, either. Once I got them home, I put them in the foster room and shut the door so they could sniff around for a while. When Fred got home, he went in to see them, and they immediately ran over and purred and rubbed against him. I don’t know if they remember being here before, but it’s my guess that they do. They seem to, anyway. Ellie-belly, especially, seems to remember snack time, because every time I’m in the kitchen she comes in howling for food. She’s such a sweet thing, I don’t get why no one’s adopted her yet. Skittles does not approve of this “reading” nonsense. Five minutes after I took this picture, I went to the door to call Fred in for his lunch. Sugarbutt was sitting there staring intently out the window at the stoop, which he spends a lot of time doing. I opened the door, then realized there was a goldfinch sitting on the door mat. “Oh!” I said, and bent down, assuming that as soon as I moved, he’d fly away. Instead, he looked up at me, and like a FLASH Sugarbutt was out the door, had the bird in his mouth, and ran back inside. “Sugarbutt, NO!” I bellowed. My voice echoed across the lawn to the church parking lot, where people were getting into their cars. I slammed the door and chased Sugarbutt up the stairs to the guest bedroom. He put the bird down on the guest bedroom floor, and cats swarmed from everywhere to stare hungrily at the bird. I picked him up, and he didn’t make a sound. Fred came through the door as I reached it, and took the bird. He stood with it in his hand for a few minutes before the bird flew off. Later, I realized that there was a yellow feather stuck to the door, so what I guess happened is that the bird hit the door and was sitting there stunned when I came to the door. That’s some unlucky timing for him, huh? Orange kitties galore!

 

Previously 2007: No entry. 2006: No entry. 2005: Y’all rock. 2004: So many books, so little time. 2003: Ah, good times. 2002: So, you know what I hate? 2001: No entry. 2000: I was a tad peeved.]]>

Please note: This is my last entry ’til January 14th. I know how you fuckers like to skim. Love ya! Mean it! Feel free to celebrate my birthday on the 9th however you see fit. I myself expect I’ll be… cleaning out the litter boxes and probably vacuuming, because I am just that wild. I started Friday morning with my mother, stopping at Target to check out their 90%-off Christmas section. That was a freakin’ bargain, but obviously it doesn’t make sense to buy a bunch of wrapping paper and boxes, only to have to worry about getting them home to Alabama. I suspect by the time I get home, the Christmas sales will pretty much be over. One year I’ll either have to come to Maine later, or go home earlier. I want me some 10-cent rolls of wrapping paper! My mother got a big bag of Christmas stuff for $2.58 and we oohed and ahhed over that, because that was a huge bargain, given the amount of stuff she bought. (flickr) (More personalized license plates seen during this trip so far.) In the parking lot, I had to explain why a license plate reading WTFPWND was so funny (WTF was easy, but PWND a little more difficult – and it turns out that neither my sister nor my brother were familiar with PWND, just my 16 year-old nephew. Who’s the cool auntie?) (Really good explanation of pwn, here. Thanks, Lanna!) When we were done at Target, we picked Debbie up and headed to Freeport to do some shopping. I wanted to hit LL Bean and a few other stores, and my mother wanted to do the same. A sign that we were going to have a good shopping experience came when we pulled into the LL Bean parking lot and ended up with a parking spot about as close as you can possibly get to the store. I don’t believe I’ve ever had that happen, and I was probably a little too thrilled at how close we were parked, but damn! Parking spots like that don’t come around every day! If you look to the left, you’ll see the big white vehicle parked butt-out next to the red truck. That was us. SO AWESOME. (flickr) Instead of going into the main store, we went across the parking lot to the outlet store, where we spent a really long time. I ended up spending most of the money I’d gotten from Fred’s parents for Christmas and my birthday, and I don’t regret a single thing I bought. Among other things, I bought a light spring jacket, a new laptop bag, a new Healthy Back Bag (monogrammed with the name A Chen, which just amuses the hell out of me for some reason), socks, and a bunch of shirts. Shirts that fit me and aren’t way too big. I KNOW. Do you feel lightheaded? Do you need to sit down? The funniest part of the trip to the outlet store was when Debbie was looking at the ornaments. She found one inscribed with “Katherline” (we assumed that it was supposed to be “Katherine” though Google informs me that Katherline is actually a name that’s used. Would you pronounce that “Kather-lynn”, or is the “r” silent?), and she started laughing and I started laughing, and we just stood there and laughed for the longest time. (flickr) We left the factory outlet store and my mother headed to the Jones of New York store, and Debbie and I headed for Cool as a Moose. We stopped on the way at Crabtree & Evelyn, and I made an ass out of myself by thinking I was holding a bottle of perfume, and spraying it on my wrist to check the scent. Turned out, it was home fragrance spray. Duhr. In Cool as a Moose, I went crazy, buying Life is Good t-shirts and a Maine sweatshirt… and that’s about it, actually. Just clothes. A LOT of clothes. I eyed the Life is Good mugs because they’re invariably cute as hell, but I don’t drink out of mugs and we don’t really have a place to display mugs, so I resisted. We went over to The Mangy Moose and browsed for a while, I bought a few things for the spud and some bath salts (though I don’t take baths all that often anymore, I have a hard time not buying good-smelling bath stuff when I see it), and then we decided that it was time to eat. We walked down to The Corsican and got a table while waiting for my mother (who had gone into the main LL Bean store), and ordered a vegetable and cracker plate to munch on while we were waiting. That vegetable plate really hit the spot. It came with a little dish of boursin cheese and a little dish of hummus, and though the hummus was too cumin-y for my taste (I don’t dislike cumin, but too much of it makes me gag. Cumin smells exactly like stinky armpit to me.) the vegetables and crackers and cheese were just right. I ended up having a cup of clam chowder and a lobster roll, and it was good, though the roll was huge and I ended up picking the lobster out of the roll. We left there and went back to LL Bean. I wanted to look around in there, and after dropping our bags off at the car, we did just that. We were in there for ages. I picked up several shirts and a nightgown, and then I couldn’t decide if the nightgown was cute or grandmotherly, so I tracked Debbie down to get her opinion. (Her verdict: cute!) Debbie had an LL Bean gift card and she wanted to buy shoes, but she was having a hard time finding shoes that fit well. She ended up being helped by a saleswoman who measured her feet and she discovered that there was quite a size difference between her two feet. I mocked Debbie’s feet, telling her that she was deformed and a freak of nature. Then I decided to measure my feet, and found that my right foot is a size 8…. and my left is a size 7 1/2. I guess she’s not the only freak of nature in the family! When we were done looking around, Debbie and my mother went down to the first floor while I went to check out. On the way to the cashier, I stopped and looked at a Berber mock turtleneck (it was less than $20 in the store; I don’t know why the web site has it at $29.50) I’d looked at three or four times during the course of my browsing, each time picking it up, holding it against myself, and ultimately deciding that a large just wouldn’t be comfortable. It was on sale – marked down by 50% – and I really liked the color and the fabric. This time when I picked it up, I once again looked for a size XL, once again didn’t find it, dithered, held it up against myself, then decided that you only live once, and I carried it to the checkout with me. I don’t even know how many shirts I bought in that store, and every damn one of them was on sale. There’s no reason on earth I should ever have to be cold again, given how many warm shirts I bought. We left the LL Bean parking lot, reluctantly giving up our parking space – I said “This is such a good space, I almost want to call Dad to come get us so we don’t have to give it up!” – and headed to the other end of Freeport, where The Pet Pantry is located. We didn’t stay there long, because we were rapidly approaching the too-goddamn-much-shopping line. I got a neat cat bed that’s filled with shredded plastic bottles, and I would provide a link, but it’s already on the way to Alabama, so I don’t have it handy. When I do, I’ll share it with y’all. My mother dropped Debbie and I at Debbie’s house. I was so freakin’ cold from all the walking around and because the insane people in my family keep their houses at sub-zero temperatures, so I kept whining about how cold I was, ’til Debbie gave me her slippers to wear and she and Brian piled me up with blankets and I put on Brian’s hat until I warmed up. (flickr) (flickr) Liz showed up after she finished work, and while Debbie cooked pancit (which I’d already cut up the steak for, I wasn’t a TOTAL slug) Liz cooked lumpia, and we watched the entertainment channel for information about what was going on with Britney Spears. (flickr) In between the cooking and the eating and the watching, we talked and talked and talked and TALKED about everything under the sun. We were talking about someone in particular and Debbie was trying to come up with a word to describe them, and used “self-centered” and “needs to be the center of attention” as descriptors, but the closest we came was “Sucks all the oxygen out of the room”, which was my contribution, as it’s my new favorite phrase. Is there a single word that encompasses that phrase, anyone know? After dinner, we had birthday cake (a joint celebration of my birthday and Liz’s, which was on the 30th), then Liz went out to warm up the car and I did the dishes. Debbie declared that the barn coat I’d bought at Bean’s on Saturday was good for Alabama, but given how frigid the last few days had been, I needed something warmer. She had a Columbia jacket Brian had outgrown, and had me try it on. Though it was marked Men’s size large, it has to be mislabeled, because it fit me like a dream. I say it has to be mislabeled because when we went to Rhode Island on Thursday, my mother lent me her Columbia women’s jacket, size XL, and it was easily two sizes too big for me. So in the course of one week, I bought a $60 barn coat for $45, bought a spring coat marked down from $70 to $38, and was given a $200 jacket for nothing (though Debbie didn’t pay $200 for it, because Debbie doesn’t ever pay full price for ANYTHING, she’s got a nose for excellent sales, that one – she got it for $20 at TJ Maxx). I’d say I’m all set on the outerwear front. Liz dropped me off at my parents’ house, and though I’d intended to go to sleep fairly early, I ended up staying up late, finishing my entry. Saturday morning I got up around 8, showered, greeted my niece Mireya, and then started packing boxes of stuff to mail home. It wasn’t until I had everything laid out on the bed that I realized just how much stuff I’d bought. I ended up with four boxes of stuff to mail home, and a box to send the spud. There’s a UPS store near Debbie’s house, so I borrowed my car and drove over there, then called Debbie to see what she was doing. She was awake and told me to come over, so I did. We ended up going to Target and then to Village Candle, and I ended up making a bunch of impulse purchases and since half of what I was buying was fragile, I had it mailed home.) Debbie was wanting an electric wax potpourri burner, a small one, and she suggested that we run to Yankee Candle in Freeport. She called my mother, and that’s when I realized I’d effectively disappeared with her car for three hours (Target is such a time-suck). RUDE. We ran her car back to Lisbon Falls, talked to her for a few minutes, and then she took Mireya to the fabric store (she’s making pajamas for Mireya) and Debbie and I headed for Yankee Candles, changed our minds when we saw the traffic going that way, and went back to Target instead. The bag I bought at LL Bean on Friday was intended to be my new laptop bag, and there’s a center section where the laptop will fit nicely, but it’s not padded, so I wanted to look for a laptop sleeve. Debbie wanted a mat to put in front of her litter box. We browsed for ages, then went over to the shoe store and then to the dollar store, and then Debbie declared herself to be shopped the fuck out. We went to Debbie’s house for a little while, and I snapped a million pictures of her cats because they are so freakin’ cute. Tigger does Tony Soprano. (flickr) Debbie holds Punki in a most undignified manner. (flickr) “Hellew.” (flickr) (flickr) Keeping an eye on his sister. (flickr) When Brian got home, we left for my brother Tracy’s house, arriving a little late. The last time I was in Maine, Tracy made carne asada, and it was so damn good, he made it again. We talked and ate chips and salsa (it was habanero salsa and while it was hot, it didn’t burn the skin off the inside of my mouth the way the shit Fred likes to eat does), and then I spied the guacamole and that was it for me. The man makes an amazing guacamole – at the age of almost-40, I’m coming to realize that I actually do like guacamole if it’s made right – and I couldn’t get enough. If there’d been canning equipment available to me, I would have whipped it out, canned that stuff, and brought it home with me. I think I said it before, but I’ll say it again – I really like Tracy’s house a lot. The layout, the overall style. The living room is cozy, I really like the basement, and the upstairs consists of the master bedroom, a well-lit study (with an ocean view), and a bathroom that makes me drool with envy. We didn’t get to see Tracy’s cats, because my parents had brought Benji with them and the cats don’t much care for dogs – or strangers, really. (flickr) Looks gross, tastes like a little bowl o’ heaven. (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) When Tracy fired up the grill, the flames shot a little high and then the local volunteer fire department showed up in response to a call. They actually seemed a little disappointed to find that the house wasn’t aflame. We ate and talked and ate and talked, and I got cold and put on my formerly-Brian’s-now-mine jacket to warm up, and we talked and watched Mireya, and then we ate a little more for good measure. Benji ran around and then Brian showed off his dog whispering ways. (flickr) After a few hours, we headed out, and as I was thanking Tracy profusely for dinner, he said “The last time I made carne asada was when you were here this summer.” and I said “Sounds like a new tradition to me!” Brian and Debbie and I stopped at Coldstone Creamery on our way back to Debbie’s house and picked up ice cream for ourselves and for Liz as well, then I called to let Liz know we were on the way. She met us at Debbie’s, and we sat and ate ice cream and talked about interesting topics such as farting (she has never farted in front of any of her boyfriends, if you must know.) and more Britney. We didn’t stay at Debbie’s for long, because Liz and I were both tired and ready to go home and go to bed. For the first time all week, I was asleep before midnight. I woke up at 3 am having to pee, and as I walked through the house I realized I was feeling chilled, like I was about to come down with something. Since then, I’ve sneezed several times, and I suspect I’m either about to come down with something, or my body’s fighting off a cold or flu. FUN. I got up a little after 8 this morning, took my shower, puttered around, and then my parents and I headed for South Portland. Debbie and Brian were supposed to meet us there, but apparently Debbie had a brainfart and didn’t realize we weren’t picking them up until we were about halfway there. She called to let us know that they’d be a little late, and arrived about fifteen minutes after us. We had breakfast and I opened my birthday present from my parents – socks (don’t laugh, they were really good socks from LL Bean) and money – and then my father and Brian headed for home, and Debbie and my mother and I hit the mall. We went into Best Buy first because the laptop sleeve I’d bought at Target was too big for my laptop (which wouldn’t be a big deal, except it meant that it wouldn’t fit in the new laptop bag I had). I found one, paid for it, and then we went out into the mall to do more shopping. At one point, Debbie and I went into a store – I can’t remember the name, or I’d say it), and saw a misspelled sign that amused us. I got out my camera, took a picture, and we continued browsing. After a couple of minutes, a woman called “Excuse me. EXCUSE ME!”, and I said “Yes?” and she said “We do not ALLOW pictures to be taken in our store!” and I said “Okay.” I was waiting for her to demand my camera so she could erase the picture or confiscate my memory stick, but she just went back to what she was doing. Debbie and I browsed for minute more, Debbie said “Harrumph. That pisses me off. Let’s LEAVE.” and we did, joking about taking her picture in front of the store. (flickr) We made a few more stops – I had to visit the book store, of course – and then we left the mall. I said to Debbie, “I cannot believe a women’s size large from LL Bean’s fits me!” and Debbie said “That’s because what you REALLY need is a medium!” I might have fit into a medium, I’ll give her that, but I would have been exceedingly uncomfortable wearing it. (flickr) We went to the Curtainshop, because my sister and mother had read of my curtain travails and thought I could look around and get some ideas. I ultimately bought some valances for the bedroom. I like them, but won’t know ’til they’re hung up how I’ll like them. My mother bought some roman shades for their guest bedroom and now that I’ve seen roman shades in person, I kind of like them. We left Portland, dropped Debbie off at home, and then came back to my parents’ house. My mother napped in her recliner, I did some surfing and some reading, and at 4:40 we headed for Brunswick. Dinner at our favorite Chinese buffet, lots of chatting and eating ensued, and we were back home by 6. And now I believe I’ll post a few more pictures and toddle off to the bedroom to read ’til it’s time to talk to Fred. I am now commencing my week off from journaling, and will be back on January 14th. In the interim I’ll turn 40, and if life actually begins at 40, I’m not sure I can handle it. Life at 39 has been pretty fucking cool already. See you on the flip side; y’all behave! (flickr) Who would keep a watchful eye if not Benji? (flickr) I think this is about my favorite picture EVER of my sister. When I get it home, I shall print it out and frame it. (flickr)

 

Previously 2007: No entry. 2006: “Oh. Were you gone?” 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: “Ohhhhh,” I finally said, the light dawning. “It’s a comedy.” 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: No entry.]]>

Hope you have easy travels to Maine, and a great time while up there. Say HI to Acadia Nat’l Park for me if you are near there. Have you been up Cadillac Mountain? Awesome views, highly recommended if you’ve not been up there, and even if you have. I haven’t been up Cadillac Mountain, but oddly enough I just saw a calendar featuring pictures of Acadia National Park earlier today when we were out shopping, and I thought “We need to make a trip this summer!” We don’t do much hiking or picnicking when I’m here, but maybe we should start doing just that.

 

That suede jacket is adorable, but Seinfeld taught me what happens when you wear suede jackets outside in the snow! I actually didn’t remember that episode, so I went and looked it up and was reminded. God, I miss Seinfeld. ::sigh::

 

Loved the backyard picture… but I can’t make out what’s behind the railing (and before the swing set). Is it a pond? It’s an above-ground pool! My father said yesterday that we could probably ice-skate on it, because it’s frozen solid.

 

Robyn, you have to be the most easy going person EVER about losing your luggage! I had that happen to me once going to Oregon and about had a meltdown. I needs my stuff! Great pics, and hey — I found a Sweet & Sour squirrel recipe too! 🙂 I actually didn’t expect my luggage to make the flight, since the connection was such a tight one (even though we sat there for 45 minutes after they shut the door to the plane!). I always make sure I have my contact case and glasses and whatever medicine/ supplements I need in my carryon bag, and other than that, there’s really not anything I can’t live without for a day (as long as I can get a toothbrush, that is – and my parents always have extras). The people I really felt sorry for were the women who were traveling with their very small babies, and who had nothing but a couple of diaper bags with them. Now THAT really sucked, and they were fairly freaked out, poor women. I really haven’t had any desire to eat squirrel (yes, I’ve eaten it, but it’s been many years. Tastes like chicken, right?).

 

Not incredibly important, but that movie was filmed in New Zealand–not Scotland. And yes, you need to visit. Well hell, New Zealand’s on my list of countries I definitely want to visit someday, too. Given that my 40th birthday’s not far away, I’d better get to traveling, don’t you think?

 

I loved the LL Bean store when we went there many moons ago. Do they still have the indoor water feature and the understated entrance? They have the indoor pond and the understated front entrance, but compared to what it was like when I was a kid, that place is HUGE. The main building is easily six times bigger than it was back then, plus there’s a separate building that’s an outlet, PLUS another that’s, I don’t know, got ski equipment maybe? I love visiting LL Bean’s, but man – that place has just totally taken over.

 

Lovely snow pictures! We never get snow like that here in Yorkshire any more, although we did occasionally when I was a kid. This much snow this early in the winter is pretty unusual – I think when I was here last year, there was no snow at all. It’s certainly pretty to look at, but some of the streets we have to drive down to get to Debbie’s house are verrrry narrow due to the fact that there’s only so high you can pile the snow!

 

I’m with you on the extortionate prices for snacks and drinks on public transport and the like. The railways seem to be the worst offenders here – £1.20 (about $2.50) for a packet of crisps (chips!) and £2.30 (approx $4.65) for one of those tiny bottles of Tropicana! What’s funny is that I was all “Fuck this! I’m not paying $2 for a little can of Pringles!” on the plane, but when we landed in Detroit, I probably paid close to that for a tiny bag of Sun Chips. It’s just, it’s the principle! Can’t they spare a little bag o’ nuts, man?

 

Just wanted to let you know that your darn link to Coldwater Creek just cost me $130. Robyn And3rson: Boosting the economy by any means necessary!

 

I’m all for a trip to New Zealand myself, and I’d have to agree that a trip to Scotland should be on your top 5 things to do. This is a fabulous country, and could show you things that regular tourist folks don’t always get to see. I’ve told my mother and sister that the only way I was going to get my ass to Scotland is if the three of us planned a trip, because I don’t see Fred being willing to get off the farm anytime soon!

 

What kind of dog is that? Is it a mutt or an actual breed? Benji’s a mutt from the pound, a terrier mix, I believe. He’s very into “herding” people into going where he thinks they should be. He’s such a sweetheart, that dog. It just exhausts him if you do something that he feels he needs to keep an eye on, because when he’s on alert, he is ON ALERT, and it takes a lot of energy for a little dog to keep an eye on what’s going on.

 

Another Stinkerbell! What do you recommend for the Sigg bottles? Are the tops like those with a snap down nozzle, or whatever it’s called? I’ve been meaning to do something like this, too. And we thought we were being so original when we named her Stinkerbelle! My Sigg bottles come with the screw-off tops, and I’ve been known to complain that by the time I screw the friggin’ top off, I’ve died from dehydration. Nance got a bottle with the sports top, and I asked her if that was any better, but she says there appears to be a learning curve, and since I’m not a very fast learner, I believe I’ll stick with the screw-off top!

 

DID you read The Shell Seekers?? Are you done? What did you think? Did you LOVE it? I gotsta know!! I DID read the Shell Seekers, and about five pages in, I realized that I HAD read it in the past. I kept reading it, though, and I really liked it a lot. It has a very, very satisfying ending, doesn’t it?

 

I always wonder about you sleeping with all those cats – Do you ever sleep all night long? I’m so used to them climbing on me and sleeping up against me that it’s not often that I’m woken for very long. I usually sleep pretty well through the night unless they’re especially active. The thing that annoys me is when I wake up in the middle of the night having to pee and Mister Boogers is laying against me like a dead weight and will NOT move and it makes it very difficult to get out of bed. What annoys me even more is when he GROWLS at me when I’m trying to move him, and that will always get his ass tossed right off the bed. Fucking cat, growling at ME on MY bed? I think NOT.

 

The picture of snow falling on the deck is great! Are those little orange lines actually the path snowflakes are making as they fall?? Whatever they are, the photo is VERY cool. Thank you! Yeah, the orange streaks are the snowflakes falling – to be honest, I hadn’t really noticed them ’til you pointed it out!

 

Do your cat butt earrings have cat faces on the fronts? I am sad to say that no, my cat butt earrings are anatomically incorrect and have another cat butt on the other side. Also, my sister gave me cat butt address labels the other day. It’s a cat butt themed vacation for me!

 

You have a pellet stove in the room you’re staying in? I am SO jealous! No, the pellet stove is in the main – family room – area of the basement. If I left the door to the room I sleep in open, it’d stay nice and warm in there, but I prefer it pretty cool when I’m sleeping, so I close the door, and it gets down to about 60 in there at night. I have an electric blanket if I get too cold, and it’s heavenly, being warm and cozy under the covers and having the cool air outside of the covers!

 

I’m thinking about starting up a blog and I was wondering who you used. Blogger? WordPress? Vox? Please feel free to answer in your comment extravaganza on Friday. Back in The Day I used Dreamweaver and uploaded every entry via WS-FTP. Now, I use WordPress (can you believe I had to actually go look? Duh.), and I like it a lot, I think it’s fairly easy to use – though I don’t know how difficult it is to install it, since I make Fred do that stuff. I’ve used Movable Type in the past, but I think I prefer WordPress. I’ve also used Diaryland and Blogger in the past, but you get a little less control over how your site looks and how things behind-the-scenes work than you do with a Content Management System like WordPress (though I could be wrong about that; maybe I just didn’t have the smarts to make mine look the way I wanted). Two thumbs up for WordPress, anyway.

 

Oh, to be so potentially close to Grant and not see him. Not that I find him paranormally sexy or anything. Really. I swear. Alls I know is that Debbie loves Steve and hates Brian. I don’t think she’s mentioned Grant to me.

 

I do believe that Benji is the Mister Boogers of the canine world. Benji is far sweeter than Mister Boogers could ever dream of being. Benji would never ever play the “I’m not touching you! I’m not TOUCHING you!” game with Miz Poo. Benji would be more like “I’m not going to touch you, I just need to keep an eye on what you’re doing and – oh. Did you mean to leave that toy there? I’d better sniff it and make sure it’s okay. Okay, it’s been sniffed. Twice. It’s safe. Please proceed and I will watch to make sure nothing goes wrong. Please don’t hurt me.” (flickr)

 

Awwww, what a cute snowman….. are those Oreos on his face? No, I think those are some sort of big plastic discs, but I didn’t look that closely! Edited to add: I asked, and apparently there’s a kit you can buy that gives you everything you need to make a snowman.

 

Are you watching your normal shows in Maine? I always like reading your opinions about The Real Housewives and whatever crazy thing they’ve done in the last episode (and the Lori storyline this week just made me LAUGH, and for once think that maybe George is okay). I don’t think I’ve watched more than an hour of TV since I got here, but everything’s taping at home, so I’ll be catching up on the Real Housewives when I get home. That hour of TV I watched? That would be the special about Britney Spears. Fred says he’s embarrassed for me, that I’d admit that.

 

Was it ever ugly or messy when you two got a divorce and how much of a say did the two of you have together regarding the spud? My parents divorced over 30 years ago, did nothing but fight even after they were divorced and still hate each other now! Which is sad. It seems like the both of you did a great job parenting even though you weren’t together! My divorce wasn’t at all ugly or messy. Our relationship was over long before we got to the point that we actually divorced, and there wasn’t a lot of anger between us, just sadness that it didn’t work out. As far as how much a say the two of us had together about the spud, well – she lived with me in Alabama and she visited him in Rhode Island when she could, and I made the parenting decisions. Had anything big happened, I obviously would have wanted his input, but the spud was a stunningly easy child to raise, and there weren’t many difficult decisions or drama to be found with her, thankyajeezus. My biggest concern was when he remarried, because obviously I want him to be happy, but I also hoped the spud would get along with his new wife. They adore each other, and really – a mother can’t ask for more than that!

 

How far away does the Spud live from your parents and Debbie? Depending on traffic, about 3 1/2 hours.

 

Looking at your birdfeeders made me wonder about something. I put up a birdfeeder in my backyard last summer and because of loose seeds and shells, we had tons of strange plants crop up all around the ground underneath it. Do you have this happen with your feeders? Is this because of a certain type of feed? We do have the issue with things growing under the feeders a little, but most of the feeders are located in an area of the yard where nothing really grows well (it doesn’t get a lot of sunlight), so it’s not a huge issue for us. I imagine that any kind of bird seed will end up growing into weeds, but I don’t know that for sure, so I’m going to throw it out to my readers. Readers? Is there a certain kind of bird seed you can buy that won’t cause strange things to grow under the feeders?

 

(In regards to my saying, in yesterday’s entry, Y’all who seriously think I’m going to go out and build a “pet” for the snowman are DUH. REE. MING. You know what the high temperature was today? Like, 10. Farenheit. The HIGH, let me repeat. Homie don’t do playing in the snow, and homie don’t do playing in the snow ESPECIALLY when the temperature is horrifyingly, bitterly cold.) Homie may not play in the snow, but Homie is willing to go walking up to a house that is used as a location for a television program that probably isn’t even shooting due to the writer’s strike just so she can get a peek at, Gasp!, a TV Star!. Geez, talk about priorities. So don’t go sayin’ Homie don’t do Cold – because she just showed us that she will. Debbie, on the other hand, not so much. AND, Mr. Snowman may be covered in three-plus inches of freshly fallen snow – but that’s all the more reason for him to have a kitty to commune with. How long could it possible take to mold a little kitty at Snowman’s feet? Really. I hope you conveyed my Thanks to your Dad. Talk about priorities? Okay. My sister is a huge priority in my life, given that she’s both my sister and my best friend. My sister adores the show Ghost Hunters. My sister was excited at the idea of seeing someone from the show. I wanted to make sure that would happen. I would have spent hours and hours walking around in the cold to make that happen for her, and I regret now that I didn’t insist she park so that we could find out what was going on and she could possibly see someone from the show. You, on the other hand, are a stranger on the internet who is insistent that I go outside and build something in the snow for you. I’m not going to. At this point, I wouldn’t go out into the snow if it only took 30 seconds to make the snow cat you’re demanding and I find your insistence annoying, bullying, and a little strange. Did you want to continue talking about priorities?

 

Debbie’s Tigger is wondering if you might have some food to share. (flickr)]]>

 

Y’all who seriously think I’m going to go out and build a “pet” for the snowman are DUH. REE. MING. You know what the high temperature was today? Like, 10. Farenheit. The HIGH, let me repeat. Homie don’t do playing in the snow, and homie don’t do playing in the snow ESPECIALLY when the temperature is horrifyingly, bitterly cold. Besides, the snowman is covered in three inches of snow already, so he doesn’t care about having a damn pet.

 

Good lord, what a long, long day. We left the house a few minutes after 7:00, picked up Debbie, stopped so she could get something for breakfast, and then hit the road. Four and a half hours later, we reached our destination: the Emerald Square Mall in North Attleboro, Massachusetts. And more importantly: The spud! The spud met us at the mall, and I hugged her for about fifteen minutes before I let her go (or maybe I just hugged her ’til she squirmed loose, one or the other). We got right down to business, considering the cold-ass weather (JESUS it was cold) – buying her a winter coat. I’d told her a few months ago that I’d get her a winter coat for Christmas, and then when I decided to fly to Rhode Island last week, I told her we’d go shopping for the coat when I was there, and since the flying-into-Rhode-Island part didn’t work, we ended up waiting ’til today. Did I mention the unholy frigid coldness of the weather? Since we were in JC Penney when we met up, we decided to look and see what they had, and she tried on three or four different coats, and then settled on one she liked a lot. (flickr) We walked around the mall for a while, and saw a nekkid mannequin, and are juvenile, so had to snap pictures: (flickr) and I was a bit startled to see that mall security roams about on their very own Segways: (flickr) By the time we’d roamed around the big-ass mall (it has three levels!), we were beyond hungry, so we went to Bertucci’s, the only sit-down restaurant in the mall. The spud and my mother.(flickr) Lunch was fabulous, and after we’d eaten lunch (and shared dessert), it was time for more mall-wandering. We hit all three levels and bought a few things, and by the time we’d done that, it was 3:00 and we were done with the mall. Debbie is a teeny bit obsessed with the show Ghost Hunters, and it appears that they are based out of Warwick, Rhode Island, and since we were about half an hour away from Warwick, it would have been a shame not to make the trip to see the building and do a little stalking. Unfortunately, when we got to the address she had, either TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society) has moved, or they’ve taken down their sign. We circled around by it a second time, and then I told her to park and we could walk down to the address she had and do some investigating of our own, but she wasn’t up for that. I kind of wish now that I had insisted – it was kind of a shame to go that far and not make the extra effort, given how excited she was at the idea of seeing the building and possibly some of the people from the show. I snapped this picture to show the high outside temp of the day, but the fact that a 60-something, an almost-40 year-old and a 37 year-old were listening to 50 Cent on the radio is too amusing to pass up, blurry picture or no. (flickr) We drove back from Warwick to the mall to drop Danielle off at her car. I gave her a good long hug, kissed her, told her I loved her, and let her go on her way. It was really damn good to see her. Hopefully I’ll be able to spend more time with her this summer! (flickr)

 

We used my father’s GPS to get to all our destinations (and Debbie did all the driving, poor thing!) and JESUS CHRIST that GPS lady is one pushy bitch. You miss one little turn, she has a fucking coronary. She tried to make us drive up 93 through Boston during rush hour, and when Debbie opted for 95 instead she had a fit. Later, when we exited 95 to find a place to pee and get a drink, she had a conniption, all “Turn left! Do a u-turn! Turn left and then right! Turn around! GODDAMN YOUR SOUL STRAIGHT TO HELL TURN AROUND I SAID!” She came in handy, but damn. Take a deep breath, control freak!

 

Previously 2007: Good ol’ Jerry Ford. Remember when he… pardoned Nixon? Yep, them were the days. 2006: No entry. 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: My God, I love Sam’s, have I mentioned? 2002: Why, that’s almost as exciting as the fact that my birthday’s in less than a week! 2001: Fred, being the man, is legally required to deal with all car-related crap and I, being the woman, am legally required to bitch at him until he does so. 2000: So we apparently had a 2.8 earthquake today about which I knew nothing. ]]>

(flickr) I stayed up late last night, so into the Greg Iles book I’m reading that I couldn’t put it down ’til I forced myself at 1 am. I went upstairs to pee before I turned in, and it had stopped snowing. This morning it was bright and sunny and NOT snowing for once. (flickr) (flickr) (flickr) Fred looks like he’s about 12 years old in this picture. (flickr) My father spent the morning snow-blowing and shoveling the snow that had accumulated after he snow-blowed and shoveled last night. We spent an hour or so taking ornaments off the tree and packing up Christmas decorations (putting Christmas decorations up and taking them down are multi-day affairs. There’s a LOT of Christmas decorating going on in this house, believe you me.) and then he went off to run errands, which included purchasing a lobster roll for me at a nearby store. I LURVE THE LOBSTER. (flickr) After lunch, my mother and I went down to Bath to hit our favorite stores – Reny’s, the drugstore, and Magnolia. I ended up buying only some bath stuff at Magnolia; once again, although we’ve done about as much shopping as we usually do, my actual buying is nothing like it’s been in the past. That’s less my desire to spend money than my desire to not have to deal with shipping stuff home, I think. (flickr) (flickr) On the way home from Bath, we stopped in Topsham at JoAnn’s Fabrics. I ended up buying some cat-print material to use in the future. We also stopped in the pet store to eyeball the dogs (I feel so damn sorry for those dogs, confined to such small cages), then went down to the card store where I picked up several things and walked around the store with them before ultimately deciding not to buy anything. We’re planning to hit Freeport this weekend, and I suspect the majority of my purchasing will be done there, between LL Bean, Cool as a Moose, and the Pet Pantry. Debbie and Brian came over and hung around for part of the evening. We had ham italians from The Kitty Corner (which just changed owners, but we’ve been assured that nothing will change. Given that the best sandwiches on earth are ham italians from there, I find myself more than a little relieved), and then I watched a little of Debbie’s favorite show (and current obsession), Ghost Hunters, and then went off to finish reading my book. Tomorrow, we’re out of here early and will be home late, so expect an entry to go up very late, possibly close to midnight, depending on how the day goes.

 

Webster, I can tell you that I don’t like being cold and I especially don’t like being cold and wet, and so there was no way on earth I was going out into the snow to build a snowman for you. However, my father saw your request, so here you go, courtesy of him. He made it in the middle of last night’s snowstorm. (flickr)

 

Benji, exhausted from his long, long day of barking at the paper boy, keeping an eye on my father, and sniffing everything twice. (flickr)

 

Previously 2007: I’m surprised the damn government didn’t declare a “National Day of Celebration” for Wednesday to commemorate Saddam Hussein’s death, just so they could stop the mail delivery for a third day in a row. 2006: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Note to self 2002: (“Damn, Robyn sure is impressed with herself, isn’t she?”) 2001: Robyn’s Resolutions for 2001. 2000: Exciting, no?]]>

Oh, this is so, so sad. If you’ve got a little extra money laying around, please think about donating to this animal sanctuary.

 

All day long I’ve been re-realizing that it’s New Year’s Day and a whole new year, and every time it comes as a bit of a surprise to me that 2007 is over. That was the fastest year ever, wasn’t it? So happy new year, all y’all. I hope your 2008 is fabulous!

 

My original plan was to take this week off from journaling, but after thinking about it, I decided to take next week off, instead. If my fucking laptop does that fucking thing where it suddenly erases several paragraphs for no apparent reason, that could change though, since I will likely toss the goddamn thing in the nearest snowbank and bid it a good riddance. Debbie and Liz and I were going to have dinner and birthday cake at Debbie’s house last night, but there was a sudden environmental crisis (Debbie’s apartment complex is killin’ the environment!) and for a while we thought there would be no heat, so we decided to postpone. Then, Liz went off to spend time with her man, and the heat came back on at Debbie’s, so I borrowed my father’s truck and went over there for dinner after all. The roads were still slippery and I slid completely through the stop sign at the bottom of the (small) hill down the road from my parents’ house, which scared me enough that I drove super slow the rest of the way to Debbie’s house. We had pancit for dinner and then were going to go see a movie, but Debbie remembered the wrong time on the movie, so we didn’t have enough time to get there. We dropped food off at my uncle’s house (a week after Christmas, my mother still had plenty of turkey casserole and turkey soup left) and then went to Wal-Mart, which was fairly dead. My sister said “Does this remind you of Stinkerbelle and Tommy?” INDEED. I dropped Debbie off at home, stopped to fill up on gas (it’s rude to borrow someone’s vehicle and not fill up the gas tank before returning it, at least in my mind. Though it’s really a standard I only hold myself to – if someone borrowed my car and didn’t fill up the gas tank before returning it, I wouldn’t think ill of them at all, unless they left it completely on empty. Apparently I hold myself to a different standard than I hold anyone else, go figure.), and was back at my parents’ around 9. Some time on the computer, some time on the phone with Fred, then I read ’til 1 am (I wanted to finish reading The Pact; I might be getting a little tired of Jodi Picoult, because everything she writes has a twist and so I don’t trust anything that happens in the book because I’m waiting for the twist. Loved it in My Sister’s Keeper, but after several books it gets tired.). I didn’t even realize it was after midnight ’til around 12:30. I slept in ’til well after 8:00 this morning, and was surprised to find that it hadn’t snowed overnight, as I thought it was supposed to. Turns out it wasn’t supposed to start until mid-afternoon, so after some hanging around the house, my mother and I decided an early movie was a good idea. We called Debbie and made plans, and met in Brunswick for the 12:10 showing of P.S. I Love You. Early birthday present from my sister. Appropo, no? Definitely a different kind of role for Hilary Swank. I liked the movie, though whether it was because it was a good movie or because Gerard Butler spent a lot of time shirtless and there was a viewing of Jeffrey Dean Morgan’s ass, I cannot decide. By the time we exited the movie theater, it was snowing like mad. Debbie went straight home, and after a trip to Bookland (I didn’t buy a single thing there – usually I buy a lot of note cards there, but nothing struck my fancy this time around) my mother and I headed home as well. The roads were slippery and we slid through a turning-red light or two, but we made it home safely. flickr An afternoon of hanging around the house, watching the snow pile up, a dinner of ham and broccoli casserole (broccoli, cream of mushroom soup, cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, topped with crushed Ritz crackers, holy SHIT that stuff is good! I’ll get the recipe and post it at some point, promise!), phone calls with Liz and Debbie, more staring at the snow, reading, and that pretty much describes the rest of my day. Pretty much. Chickadee on the bird feeder. The snow is supposed to last through mid-morning, or so the rumor goes, and then should clear up for a few days. Maybe we’ll get another foot instead! Woo! Hoo? My mother made this in a quilting class. I thought it might be something I’d be interested in doing, but after hearing about how labor-intensive it is, I decided maybe not. I can’t really complain, I guess. This is the first year the crappy weather has really stopped us from doing what we wanted (and honestly, it hasn’t stopped us all that much), so I’ll just shut up and be glad the weather’s supposed to be clear when it’s time for me to fly away home. Tomorrow, I have no idea what the plans are. Probably hanging out in the house looking at the snow, watching TV, hanging out, and (if the roads get clear), deciding we’re tired of hanging around the house and going out to do something! I know one thing for sure – I’ll be sleeping in! It’s amazing how well I sleep without cats around to wake me up. It’ll probably be another day or two before I start to seriously miss the little shitheads. The view from where I’m sitting. In the background, the pellet stove. I WANT. I love that recliner, but after ten or fifteen minutes, my butt goes numb.

 

I tell you what, Debbie’s cat Tigger perpetuates my belief that orange kitties are the sweetest kitties on earth.

 

Previously 2007: Happy New Year! 2006: No entry. 2005: Happy New Year! 2004: Happy New Year! 2003: Happy New Year! 2002: Happy New Year! 2001: No entry. 2000: Happy New Year.]]>