Thanks, you guys, for your frugal site suggestions. I love it that there are so many blogs and forums out there devoted to saving money. Like a couple of you mentioned, I’m really most interested in saving money on the cleaning and paper products that I use regularly – and if I can save a few bucks on decent litter, I am THERE.
I’m in the process of updating my links page, but it’ll be a while (I’m trying to convince Fred to write me a simple little links organizer that will sit on our server – along the lines of Blogrolling.com, but it would pull from our own server instead of from Blogrolling’s). Once it’s updated, though, I’ll have a little section of just the money-saving blogs/ forums so y’all can check ’em out, too!
Tell me, sweet darling readers, if this makes sense to you. You and your husband or significant other get into the car to drive to town to, for instance, take the recycling back to the recycling center. As you are on your way to the recycling center, you both decide to swing by the grocery store because Diet Pepsi is on sale, buy one get one free (which adds up to 75 cents per bottle, and that is an EXCELLENT FREAKIN’ PRICE). You drop your stuff off at the recycling center, go to the grocery store, and you realize something.
“Hey,” you say to your husband or significant other. “Since the pet store is right here, I’m going to run over and check on their price on that cat food I was looking at.”
And he gives you the look. He doesn’t say anything, but you KNOW he’s thinking “Every time we go out to do an errand, she has to ADD ERRANDS on to what we’re doing!”
Seriously. If we’re out doing errands, and I think of another errand that needs to be done, what does it hurt if we do that additional errand? Would it make sense to ONLY do the errands we set out to do, come home, and then go out at a later time to get the additional errand done SO WE CAN WASTE GAS AND KILL THE PLANET? What the fuck?
And this is apparently a widespread “problem” – Fred told me that he and a coworker once bonded over the way their wives would “add errands” on.
I ask again: what the fuck?
I watched the Octo-Mom on Oprah yesterday (it was on last week, I DVR’d it. I DVR all episodes of Oprah and then decide which ones to watch based on the description. I end up deleting about 9/10ths of them, and then fast-forward through most of the ones I end up watching).
I didn’t watch the entire interview between Oprah and Octo-Mom, because her voice (and those great big fake hooting belly-laughs) were annoying the shit out of me, but holy CRAP is that woman in over her head. She appears to routinely get only about three hours of sleep per night, and that lack of sleep probably explains (1) why she would ever think that anyone on earth would EVER believe she’s never had any kind of plastic surgery (how are those great big plastic lips treating you, Octo-Mom?) and (2) that she has no idea who Angelina Jolie is.
It was interesting to see 24 hours in her life, though.
Maura is really coming out of her shell since we’ve allowed her the run of the house. She actually has her favorite spots in the house – in the picture above, she’s laying in the sun in the kitchen. She also likes to hang out on my desk, sometimes she lays by the back door, and in the afternoons she can be found laying in the cat bed on the chair next to my bed. She has her playful moments, and she’s starting to be more interested in the kittens than annoyed by them, especially when the kittens are playing with each other.
Yesterday, she was laying in the kitchen and Rhyme and Bolitar were play-fighting. She reached out and smacked at Rhyme’s tail as it whipped by. He turned and hissed at her, and she just looked at him like “What’s YOUR problem, kid?”
She sure is a sweet girl.
2009: Yes, I APOLOGIZED to her for not keeping my account. I guess that showed THEM.
2008: No entry.
2007: No entry.
2006: I have no skillz, but I’m a quick learner!
2005: Spot let out a sad, drawn-out demon-from-hell sound.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: No entry.
2000: I live to please you, my beloved readers.