Author: Robyn

A meme, stolen from a bunch of different people: WHAT DO YOU CALL: The basics: Born in Bangor, Maine. Lived in many places, including: Goosebay, Labrador (Canada), Indiana, Michigan, Guam, Maine, Rhode Island, and (now) Alabama. A body of water, smaller than a river, contained within relatively narrow banks. Stream. What the thing you push around the grocery store is called. A cart. (They call it a “buggy” down here, and it drives me crazy) A metal container to carry a meal in. Lunchbox. The thing that you cook bacon and eggs in. Frying pan. The piece of furniture that seats three people. Couch The device on the outside of the house that carries rain off the roof. A gutter The covered area outside a house where people sit in the evening. A deck. Well, except decks aren’t usually covered. A porch? Carbonated, sweetened, non-alcoholic beverages. Soda. A flat, round breakfast food served with syrup. Pancakes. A long sandwich designed to be a whole meal in itself. Sub. The piece of clothing worn by men at the beach. Bathing suit (?) Shoes worn for sports. Sneakers. Putting a room in order. Straightening. A flying insect that glows in the dark. Firefly. The little insect that curls up into a ball. Roly poly. The children’s playground equipment where one kid sits on one side and goes up while the other sits on the other side and goes down. Seesaw. How do you eat your pizza? Balanced on my fingertips. What’s it called when private citizens put up signs and sell their used stuff? Yard sale. What’s the evening meal? Dinner or supper. The thing under a house where the furnace and perhaps a rec room are? Basement. What word(s) do you use to address a group of two or more people? You guys, or y’all. Would you say “Are you coming with?” as a full sentence, to mean “Are you coming with us?” No, and it drives me crazy when I read that in a book or journal. Would you say “where are you at?” to mean “where are you?” Nope. Modals are words like “can,” “could,” “might,” “ought to,” and so on. Can you use more than one modal at a time? Only when I’m trying to be funny. What do you call the area of grass between the sidewalk and the road? I had no idea it had a name. What do you call the area of grass that occurs in the middle of some streets? Median. What do you call the long narrow place in the middle of a divided highway? Median What do you call the drink made with milk and ice cream? Milkshake. What do you call the miniature lobster that one finds in lakes and streams for example (a crustacean of the family Astacidae)? Crawdad. What do you call the kind of spider (or spider-like creature) that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs? Daddy Longlegs. What nicknames do/did you use for your maternal grandmother? Grammy. What about your paternal grandmother (is there a distinction?) Grammy (last name) What do/did you call your maternal grandfather? I don’t recall calling him anything at all. paternal grandfather? Grandpa (last name) What do you call the big clumps of dust that gather under furniture and in corners? Dust bunnies. What term do you use to refer to something that is across both streets from you at an intersection (or diagonally across from you in general)? Kitty corner. What do you call the activity of driving around in circles in a car? Donuts. What do you call paper that has already been used for something or is otherwise imperfect? Scrap paper. What is your *general* term for a big road that you drive relatively fast on? Highway or interstate. What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining? “Look, it’s raining, and the sun is shining!” When you are cold, and little points of skin begin to come on your arms and legs, you have– Goosebumps What do you call the gooey or dry matter that collects in the corners of your eyes, especially while you are sleeping? Eye boogers. What do you call an easy course? A sleeper. What do you call a traffic situation in which several roads meet in a circle and you have to get off at a certain point? A rotary. What is the thing that women use to tie their hair? Hairbands. Do you use the word cruller? Uh, no. Do you use the term “bear claw” for a kind of pastry? Nope. What do you call someone who is the opposite of pigeon-toed (i.e. when they walk their feet point outwards)? I have no idea. Can you call coleslaw “slaw”? If I really want to. I abbreviate it as “slaw” when I’m writing it, but not usually when I’m speaking out loud. What do you call the box you bury a dead person in? A coffin. Do you say “vinegar and oil” or “oil and vinegar” for the type of salad dressing? Oil and vinegar. What do you call it when a driver changes over one or more lanes way too quickly? Cutting me off. Asshole. When you stand outside with a long line of people waiting to get in somewhere, are you standing “in line” or “on line” (as in, “I stood ___ in the cold for two hours before they opened the doors”)? In line. Do you say “frosting” or “icing” for the sweet spread one puts on a cake? Depends on which it is. I consider frosting to be thicker than icing. What is “the City”? Huntsville or Nashville. What is the distinction between dinner and supper? If there’s a distinction, I neither know nor care about it. Do you cut or mow the lawn or grass? Fred mows the lawn. Do you pass in homework or hand in homework? Hand it in. What do you call the insect that looks like a large thin spider and skitters along the top of water? I call it “a bug.” What do you call the thing from which you might drink water in a school? Water fountain. What do you call a public railway system (normally underground)? Subway. What do you call the act of covering a house or area in front of a house with toilet paper? TP’ing. What do you call a traffic jam caused by drivers slowing down to look at an accident or other diversion on the side of the road? A jam caused by rubberneckers. What vowel do you use in bag? Huh? What do you call the paper container in which you might bring home items you bought at the store? A bag. What do you call the night before Halloween? October 30th. What do you call the end of a loaf of bread? The end. How do you pronounce the word for the type of drug that acts as central nervous system depressant and is used as a sedative or hypnotic? (Please do not look up the word in a dictionary before answering this question.) Huh? What do you call a point that is purely academic, or that cannot be settled and isn’t worth discussing further? Moot. How do you pronounce the -sp- sequence in “thespian” (the word meaning “actor”)? Thes-pee-an What do you call a drive-through liquor store? I don’t – I don’t think they have those around here. What do you call food that you buy at a restaurant but then eat at home? Takeout. What do you say when you want to lay claim to the front seat of a car? Move your ass. I’m sitting there. What word do you use for gawking at someone in a lustful way? “Checkitout” Do you say “expecially”, or “especially”? ‘Specially.

* * * The Bean caaaasually puts his paw out so that it’s barely touching Miz Poo’s paw. Miz Poo, in the middle of washing herself, stops to give his paw a distrustful look. The Bean thinks better of his plan to harass Miz Poo, and stretches out for a nap. Miz Poo goes back to washing. ]]>

* * * There are two new movies of the week up! As usual, click on the “movie of the week” links over there on the right under the “Other” heading. The first one is a movie of Tubby playing, the second one is from a few months ago when there was a squirrel out under the bird feeders and Fred let Miz Poo out. At one point in the second movie the camera starts shaking because I’m laughing so hard. I promise, one day I’ll get out the book and figure out that whole editing thing so that I can make a decent movie. One day. Oh, and warning: both movies are pretty big.

* * * Friday Five. 1. Do you enjoy the cold weather and snow for the holidays? Sometimes I do, but I find that snow is particularly pretty when viewed from inside by the fireplace. 2. What is your ideal holiday celebration? How, where, with whom would you celebrate to make things perfect? I would really like to convince Fred to go to Maine one year for Christmas. As much as I like the warm weather of the south, the cold weather and snow in Maine feels more like Christmas to me. Just the general day of hanging out in the living room in front of the tree, watching the kids open their presents and eating would be great. 3. Do you do have any holiday traditions? Nope, not really. We spend Christmas Eve with various parts of Fred’s family and when we get home that evening Fred and I exchange our presents to each other in the privacy of our room, then Christmas morning we all open our presents in the living room while the cats run around and go wild. 4. Do you do anything to help the needy? Every time I go to the grocery store, I pick up a couple of bags that will go to a local food bank. If I see a guy ringing a bell in front of any of the stores I visit, I drop money in his pot. I make an annual donation to our local no-kill cat shelter. 5. What one gift would you like for yourself? A yellow VW Beetle, of course! (Noooot holding my breath, though. 🙂 * * * I have TWO more packages to mail out, and then I am done, done, DONE. Well, except for stocking stuffers for the spud, that is, which shouldn’t be too hard. Whoo! * * * Miz Poo, peering past me to see the squirrel in the back yard. Spanky and Tubs, hanging out on the stairs. ALL the cats LOVE to hang out on the stairs. No wonder the carpet on the stairs looks like crap. ]]>

Trista and Ryan’s Wedding last night and taped the second hour. I’ll have to watch what I taped at some point today so I find out how it ended! (My prediction: There was a wedding) I have to admit, I’m a little horrified that all the associated wedding costs came out to $4 million. I mean, that’s an awful lot of money to spend on ONE DAY. Of course, our own wedding (cake included!) cost about $200, so I should probably just shut up. I do love that damn Trista to death, even though she’s high-maintenance (pretty much the anti-Robyn) and the baby talk thing drives me up the wall. And I was happy she chose Ryan (oddly, I wasn’t much of a fan of Ryan’s until the last episode of The Bachelorette, and he was getting dressed to go see if he’d been chosen, and I saw him nekkid from the waist up and may I just say HUBBA HUBBA) and I hope they live happily ever after.

* * * Fred was interviewed on the radio in Michigan this morning (by phone, I guess I should add – he didn’t actually go to Michigan), causing a small flood of sales, which necessitated a trip to the post office (well, that’s a lie. I was going anyway, but I had to process several sales before I went). I got to the post office and parked, then got my packages out of the Jeep. As I was walking toward the door, I saw a small group of women, each of them laden with three or four packages each. You better believe I hauled ASS getting in the door before them, because that was one group I didn’t want to have to wait behind. I could tell just by looking at them that they wouldn’t just want to mail the packages and be done with it. No, they were the sort who would want Delivery Confirmation on every single package, but wouldn’t think to have the slips ready before they got up to the window, and instead would have to slooooooowly fill each and every slip out while people waited impatiently in the rapidly growing line behind them. And after they filled out all their slips and all their packages were processed, they would decide to pay by check, and NATURALLY it would never have occurred to them to begin filling out the check ahead of time, and they would slooooowly fumble for their checkbook, slooooowly make out the check, and then sloooowly fumble for their driver’s license. I made it in the door ahead of them, thank god, and was only annoyed by their bright and happy chatter for a few minutes before I handed my packages over to the postal employee, paid, and was on my way. And speaking of Fred’s radio interview, last night before I fell asleep, all I could think was “Thank GOD it’s him and not me.” I also thanked god that I’d decided I’d never do another interview with anyone, ever, because if I had been scheduled for that interview this morning, I wouldn’t have gotten a single wink of sleep last night. I stress easily over things like that, and stress like that, I neither want nor need. Thank god I’m not famous. I could handle being followed around by the paparazzi, but live interviews on the TV and radio? Fuck THAT. * * * You know, I swear to god that I don’t mean to put so many pictures of the Bean up, but he keeps being cute when I happen to have the camera at hand, and so I have to take his picture and post it, whereas the other kitties are all off upstairs hanging out on the bed, and do you really think I’m going to haul my ass up there to take a picture? Hell no. He’s cute when he’s laying on the desk, getting in my way. He’s cute when he’s snoozing on the couch. He’s cute when he’s trying to figure out the best way to get up on that monitor and pick on Miz Poo. And he’s especially cute when he reads who I’m chatting with and what we’re talking about. ]]>

Noooooooo! Damn you, Andrew and Jen! DAMN YOU! (After Fred told me about it yesterday and I wailed and moaned, I said “That makes me sad!” He said “It makes me sad that something like that makes you sad.” Heh. Bastard.)

* * * Pet store kitties pics are up, here. That’s not how it’ll look, or where it’ll be permanently, but that’s where it’ll be for now until I can decide what to do. Go check out Mason, who is SUCH a cutie-pie! * * * I’ve been to the post office every day this week, mailing a package of Christmas presents every day. By the end of the week the majority of them will be mailed off! Whee! I also mailed the rest of the holiday cards going to non-US countries. Tonight I’ll start on the US cards. I think my Christmas spirit is slowly returning. * * * The Bean’s nickname for today is “Stanley Rotten.” Not because he’s being so terribly horrible but because it amuses me. And speaking of that, I had decided on “Fear the Bean” and uploaded the graphic and made the change on all the Bean Swag. Then I checked out my comments, and saw Dana Michelle’s suggestion of “Bean to the Bone”, and almost swallowed my gum. Fred laughed out loud when I read it to him. I think we have a winner! * * * One day a while back, I was looking at the Bean (frankly, I spend FAR too much of my day looking at his troublesome self) and I noticed that one of his toes looked weird. Kind of scabby and there was no hair over the top of it. “Look at his toe,” I said to Fred. Fred looked at it and touched it to make sure that it wasn’t painful to the Bean; it appeared that it caused the Bean no pain. Since the Bean was going in for a booster shot of something or another in a few days, Fred decided to wait and ask the vet. “I bet it’s ringworm,” I said. When Fred got home from the vet, I asked what he’d said. Apparently they have to scrape some of the infected area and try to grow fungus (um, EWWW) before they know for sure. (Note: ringworm is a fungus, not a worm. Just so you know.) Sure enough, ten days later, the vet called to let us know that it was, indeed, ringworm and the best way to treat it was with a topical ointment. And then we realized that Tubby had a raw-looking spot on the back of his leg. I can only hope and pray that ALL the fucking cats get ringworm so that every night we’ll have to chase them ALL down and put ointment on their crusty, nasty bald patches. Because, really, what could be more fun? * * * I think that perhaps Jane might – MIGHT, I SAY – be correct when she insists that the cheap ‘n crappy hair styling products don’t do as good a job as the expensive shit. Of course, she’d probably swallow her teeth if I confessed that most days I don’t bother to put anything, cheap or not, in my hair. So, for your viewing pleasure, I took comparison pictures. (No styling products. Also, late at night, thus the look o’ looniness on my face) (With TEN DOLLAR Short Sexy Hair Blow It Up Gel Foam applied, and blown dry. Also, early in the morning, thus the look o’ tiredness on my face) Admittedly, the second looks better but I still like the first. Because some days I just don’t want to mess with my hair and so I don’t. And oddly (though I didn’t get a picture to illustrate this oddity) it looks better with nothing at all than it does with the $5 Physique gel. I’m the ultimate in low maintenance. * * * On the occasion when the Bean wants love, he jumps up on my desk and drapes himself across my arm – the one I use to control the mouse – and lays there until he falls asleep. At which point he purrs so hard that his entire body and my arm shake. And then when my arm starts to hurt or fall asleep, I try to gently move him over a little. But he always wakes up and moves to a more comfortable position, draping himself over my arm from the other direction. Eventually Miz Poo gets jealous and comes up to investigate, and sits around looking like she’s about to kick some ass. ]]>

* * * Oh, and speaking of the swag, a couple of people have mentioned that they’d like to have a certain picture on a certain shirt or other item. Since I’ve got another CafePress page set up for the late OFB, if there’s a certain picture you want to see, let me know which picture (be specific) and which item, and I’ll set it up for a few days so you can buy it. Am I accommodating, or what?

* * * So I started writing out cards last night (I always do the cards that are going to other countries first), and it occurred to me that I’m sending out cards, many of which say “Merry Christmas” on them, and not everyone who gets a “Merry Christmas” card celebrates Christmas, and so I hope none of you who don’t celebrate Christmas are offended if you get a “Merry Christmas” card. Just know that what I REALLY mean is “Happy Holidays”, mm’kay? And speaking of the cards, if you haven’t filled out the form (link toward the bottom, in that all-bolded section) to have me send you a card because you are secure in the knowledge that you sent me your address LAST year, you still need to do it. I don’t keep names and addresses from year to year, and I know it’s a huge asspain for you to fill out the form every year and everything, but what if I accidentally sent a card to someone who grew to hate me since last year (maybe they even grew to hate me because I sent them a “Merry Christmas” card!)? Can you imagine the drama? Time’s a-wastin’, folks. If you want a card, fill out the form. I’m going to start signing in earnest tomorrow and hope to have all the cards done by next Monday. Bahahahah! Ha! Hee! Oh, I slay me. * * * I’ve started getting spam on my new email address. How long did that take, 2 months, something like that? At least Eudora catches it and throws it in the “junk” file, but it also does that with a lot of valid email that I get, so I still have to look and be sure it’s spam before I delete it. FUCKING spam. They’re on the fast track to hell, those fucking spammers. * * * The Bean is just being the biggest fucking pain in the ass lately. He’s been tromping around on my desk, knocking shit off, and going after the shelf of cool smiley face stuff that’s by my desk. This morning, he jumped up on the shredder – he loves to jump from the shredder to my desk (and no, there’s no way he could accidentally get his paw shredded) – and hit the button to turn the shredder on. He just SAT there contentedly, until I turned to look at him. “You better MOVE, boy!” I said. “You’re going to get your stupid paws shredded!” (What? I can’t lie to my cat?) He seemed to understand, and bounded off the shredder, thus knocking it over so that shredded paper spilled everywhere. “GODDAMN IT!” I yelled, and he smirked at me before bounding off into the kitchen. I followed him, to grab the vacuum cleaner out of the closet. He watched me from his vantage point atop the kitchen table until he realized what I was doing, and then he ran off to hide under the couch so that the scary vacuum cleaner wouldn’t get him. I got about 3/4 of the spilled confetti vacuumed up when the vacuum became clogged. “GODDAMN IT!” I yelled, and carried the vacuum into the kitchen. There, I detached one end of the hose, danged it over the trash can, and attempted to get the hose unclogged by sticking a knife down the other end of the hose. A very sharp knife. Which promptly sliced through the hose. “AGGGGGGH! FUCK!!!!!! I HATE YOU, BEAN! YOU ARE A VERY BAD BEAN!” I said, continuing the life-long tradition of blaming someone else when I accomplish a particularly dumbass act. “You’re awful troublesome, Bean,” I said conversationally as I repaired the hole in the hose with duct tape. The Bean peered at me from under the couch. Later, after I’d called and ranted to Fred about the Bean and his troublesome ass, I was checking my email one last time before running out to do errands. The Bean jumped up on my desk to make amends. Lucky for him he’s so damn cute.]]>

People and US and all their references to “canoodling.” And also because you Canadians are so cool that I want to canoodle with each and every one of you.

* * * I have misplaced my Christmas spirit; have you seen it? Somewhere between spending three hours wrapping presents last night and hearing my mother say “We’re not getting much for [the spud]. I looked at her wish list, but there’s not much on there that interests ME.”* my Christmas spirit took a long, long walk and hasn’t been back since. Maybe if I pop my $5 CD from Kohl’s in the player and listen to Emmylou Harris sing The First Noel, it’ll show up again, ya think? I made the mistake of sitting on the floor wrapping presents instead of carrying everything to the kitchen table so that I could sit in comfort and wrap. About an hour and a half in, when the presents yet to be wrapped seemed endless, I suggested to Fred that NEXT year instead of buying presents for everyone and having them buy presents for us, we could just use the money and go to the Bahamas for a week. He wouldn’t go for it, because he’s a bastard. Come back Christmas spirit, come back! Meh. *My problem is not that my parents aren’t getting the spud much for Christmas; there’s not a lot the child wants and pretty much nothing that she needs. My problem is that my mother said “There’s nothing on her wish list that interests ME”, as if it’s a sin that the spud has her own interests and hobbies. My mother’s main interest is clothes. The spud is about as interested in clothes as I am – ie, if it fits and doesn’t have cat poo down the front of it, it’s just fine – and thus the problem. Grrr. * * * I have lots of great Pet Store Kitty pics, but in my fervor to get everything deleted off the server when I was taking down OFB, I accidentally deleted the installation of Movable Type I use to create the Pet Store page, and so Fred has to work some magic. Hopefully I can get him to do that tonight and the pictures will be up tomorrow. Poor Fred. Between the spud and I, we certainly keep him hopping. He spent a good half hour yesterday deleting stuff that the spud had installed on her computer, while the spud and I took off to go to Kohl’s. * * * Bean Swag is up and running, the link is over there to the right, down at the bottom under Stevie and Angel. I may order the spud a Bean shirt for Christmas to go with the Tubby shirt she already has, I’m sure she’d love it. * * * I think I’m going to make a cd of happy songs. So far I’ve got Sheryl Crow’s “Soak up the Sun” on the list, but I’m drawing a blank for what else to put on the cd. Leave me suggestions in the comments, would you? All suggestions appreciated, but NO Christmas songs, please! I spent too much time listening to sad songs this weekend and I need to remedy that. * * * “The Bean is up on The Momma’s desk! I am the only kitty allowed on The Momma’s desk!” The Bean tromps around, messing up papers and pushing various and sundry objects off the desk onto the floor where they will never be retrieved. The Bean gives Miz Poo his sexy look. Rwowr! “No, that’s okay, kitties. I didn’t want to DO anything on my computer. Please! Come tromp on my keyboard AGAIN! Maybe you could have a fight and knock over my water, THAT would be fun!” Miz Poo and the Bean are offended that The Momma is not thrilled to have them tromping all over her desk and keyboard. The NERVE. * * * ]]>

If you are ever tempted to send me a wreath from your local fucking nursery to hang on my front door, a wreath that showers goddamn motherfucking needles everywhere if you so much as glance at it, that comes with a bow for me to wire on the wreath “where ever you wish” and is supposed to HANG ON MY FUCKING FRONT DOOR YET FALLS OFF THE HOOK EVERY TIME THE DOOR IS OPENED OR CLOSED, if that desire ever seizes you, please. I would be ever so grateful if you would restrain yourself. Because if Fred can’t figure out how to get the motherfucking thing to hang on the motherfucking hook and not fall off constantly, the motherfucking thing is going in the trash. Yes, I know it’s the thought that counts, but at this very moment I hate you with the passion of a thousand burning suns, although I’m sure the NEIGHBORS are enjoying the show. Later.

Well, Fred got the fucker all set up. Yes, it’s lovely. Yes, the bow isn’t in the exact center of the top. Ask me if I care. Much later. Yes, it’s beautiful and I’m an ingrate. My parents sent us a wreath and it smells like Christmas and it’s from a nursery in Maine and I love it. Just as long as I don’t have to deal with putting it up again. * * * I’ve changed out the Movie of the Week – the new one stars Spot, in my ongoing campaign to ramp up the love for Spot and Spanky. I also put up a SECOND movie, this one of Fred scaring the holy bejesus out of the spud, one of his favorite past-times. The links are on the sidebar to the right, under the “About” heading. Enjoy! * * * The Bean wants to play. Tubby does his best to ignore the Bean. Tubby gets drawn in and nips at the Bean’s toes. There is a brief break while Tubby and the Bean try to figure out why I keep making those beeping noises at them. (Answer: it’s the camera). Tubby shows the Bean just who the boss is, after all. And the fight degenerates into Tubs and the Bean licking each other. ]]>

“What?” “Whaaaaaaat? Why do you keep laughing at me?” “I know there was water over here somewhere once. It was delicious water and I drank it. But now it’s not here.” “Who IS that amazingly good-looking kitty in the mirror? I wonder if he’d like to play… ” “What the FUCK? That is my BUTT you’re sniffing. And it TICKLES.” “LEAVE MY BUTT ALONE OR I WILL SMACK YOU.” “Awww, let me at ‘er, Ma! I wasn’t going to hurt her TOO bad!” Seriously, I have no idea what the attraction is about the Bean’s ass, but all the other cats are always sniffing at it. I wonder if he’s got a wad of catnip up there or something.]]>

#2:

Bean Swag

Which picture should I use on the Bean Swag? Number 1. Number 2. I can’t decide. I don’t care. I just want to vote. Current Results

Like I said, I’ll put the new Bean Swag up Monday, and change that Tubby Loot link over there in the sidebar to Bean Swag. * * * Every time I think I’m doing pretty well as far as getting Christmas presents together, I remember something or someone I forgot. At the moment I think I’m doing okay, although I haven’t gotten anything off of Fred’s Amazon wish list yet, and I need to get my ass in gear if I want everything to get here in time. It’s Fred’s goal this year to get Christmas presents for me that aren’t on my Amazon wish list, which makes me a little nervous. But he knows what I like and I do like to be surprised, so I’m sure it’ll all be good. I did tell him he wasn’t allowed to buy me anything for the house (vacuum cleaner, mixer), though. Heh. Oh shit. And I just thought of two more people we didn’t get any presents for – the spud’s great-grandfathers on her father’s side. Usually she paints ornaments or makes something for everyone, and we send them one of those along with one of her school pictures. This year we decided to actually buy gifts for everyone and we’re not sending out school pictures because I don’t really like the way hers came out. At some point in the next few months I want to have her picture taken professionally and send out copies of that to everyone. Which means I have to think of something to send the great-grandfathers. I wonder if they’d like a nice Christmas arrangement; that’s what we’re sending my grandmother. * * * So the carpet guy came last night and sealed the subfloor, cut a piece of carpet out of the closet, and replaced the piece he’d cut up in the corner. It’s not a perfect match; I can definitely see where it begins and ends, but probably someone walking into the room wouldn’t notice it. Fred asked him what the spray was, and the guy said it was called “Accident” and that it’s a solvent. I’m not able to find anything at all about it online, unfortunately, but the guy let us have about half of what was in his bottle in case we ever need it again. Fred sprayed some of it on the chair that Tubby peed in and it seems to have taken the smell away, though only time will tell. * * * Miz Poo was sitting in Fred’s chair last night and I was sitting (guess where!) in front of my computer. I heard a lot of hissing and growling, and turned to see that That Damn Bean had jumped up in the chair next to her. The hissing and growling did not faze him in the slightest, and he curled up and dozed off. Miz Poo held her ground, but did not look pleased in the slightest. Next thing you know, they’ll be snuggling!]]>

Ace and TJ morning show and instead have put some lame guy whose name I cannot be bothered to recall. Fuckers. Which is not to say that I don’t enjoy Christmas music – I really do. But I do NOT want to listen to nothing BUT Christmas music. I want to listen to regular music with the occasional Christmas song thrown in. Except for maybe Christmas Eve and Christmas day, when nothing but Christmas music is okay. Is that so much to ask?

* * * We’re not putting up a big Christmas tree this year – and after all that fuss and drama last year! – because we usually put it in the small room upstairs known as “the study.” But the spud’s computer is in there, and if we put the tree in there, there’ll be no room for the spud, and so we’re just going to put the small tree in the living room and put the presents under there. I suspect that we may be going the route of only having the small tree from here on out. I’m sure The Bean will try to climb the damn thing and knock it over and then I’ll have to kill him. * * * We watched The Simple Life last night – I thought it was a rerun of the premiere, but it was actually the second episode – because that crazy Jane has fallen in love with Paris Hilt0n, and thus I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Let me digress for a moment to say that when you find a man who looks at Paris Hilt0n, shudders, and calls her “grotesquely skinny”, that’s a definite keeper, right there. Anyway, the show started out okay, and I laughed my ass off when Nicole yelled at the cows to get their fat asses moving. But after that, I don’t know. I mean, they were filling milk bottles with milk that people were going to DRINK, and they were letting the milk hose fall in the mud, and they were dumping water in the bottles with the milk to fill them to the top, and it just made me want to climb through the screen and slap them upside their bratty little spoiled-princess heads. I don’t know if we’ll be watching it in the future – and yes, I know that it behooved F0X to edit the show to make them look like spoiled rotten bitches for the pure entertainment value of it all, but as in every other reality show, if you don’t do or say something, they can’t show you doing it or saying it, now can they? – because Fred was annoyed to the extreme by the end of the show. Y’all let me know if I miss anything, okay? * * * And speaking of TV, I watched Trista and Ryan’s Wedding last night (and the episode last week as well), and I cannot WAIT to see the wedding itself next week, I’m so excited! I just love those two, I really do. I know Trista reportedly owes her manager some ungodly amount of money and doesn’t want to pay or something, but I just love her to death. Oh! I heard on the radio the other day that Bachelor Bob and Estella have already broken up, that he was dating someone from a previous Bachelor, and that he told her he was only doing the show to advance his career. I can’t seem to find anything about it online, though. If it’s true, I don’t think I’m all that surprised. I like Bob, but I don’t think he’s ready to settle down yet. * * * I don’t know how many of you read (used to read) the weight loss journal and used this site to get there by clicking on the link in the sidebar, but I’ve taken that site down (read here for the explanation, if you’re interested). I moved my recipes to a different location, and replaced the OFB link in the sidebar (under “other”) with a link to the main Recipes site. I only bring that up so that I can tell y’all that I’ve put up some new recipes: Pancit Sticky Garlic Chicken Skewers Vinegar Slaw BBQ Sauce (made with Splenda) Spaghetti Squash Pancit is a Filipino stir-fry, is the best way I can think to describe it. Liz made it for us while she was here, and it was SO damn good. I used to make it all the time when Debbie and I lived in Lisb0n Falls, but I hadn’t had it in a long, long time. I made it again this past week because amazingly enough, Fred loves it. It’s definitely going to be a regular part of our menu, and I highly recommend it. Sticky Garlic Chicken Skewers is a recipe I found in someone’s blog or journal. I unfortunately didn’t make note of where I got it – if I got it from you, please let me know. We had it for dinner Monday, and it was awesome! Happy cooking. 🙂 * * * You know, the Bean is such a funny cat. Everything he does, he does whole-heartedly and with total exuberance, whether it’s running full-tilt at the wall, playing with a toy mouse, or sleeping. Fred threw him a piece of popcorn last night, and the Bean grabbed it and ran off with it. Ten minutes later, he came back with it, hid it in the gap between the body of the couch and the couch cushion, and then spent five minutes grabbing at it and playing with it. He’s absolutely the nosiest cat I’ve ever known. If you’re doing something, he wants to know what and where and how. You cannot step into the kitchen without him hopping up onto the table and then onto the counter to supervise. Put him on the floor, he does it again. Open a closet door, he’s got to run inside and sniff around. Go into the bathroom and shut the door, two seconds later you’ve got a little gray paw sticking under the door, grabbing at the air. He spends 50% of his time running around like his ass is on fire, 25% trying to get the other cats to play, and the rest sleeping like the dead. When it’s time to sleep, he flops down wherever he happens to be, and he’s dead to the world in five seconds flat. He really was a good choice, I think, although sometimes we just want him to STOP ALL THAT DAMN RUNNING AROUND AND JUST LAY THERE! He’s a total character, is what he is. What he is not, though, is particularly friendly. He’s laid-back and if you pick him up he’ll purr and allow you to hold him until he has places to go and things to do, and he struggles and twists until you put him down. He very rarely comes looking for love and attention, but when he does, he does it whole-heartedly. He wants LOVE and he wants it NOW and he cares not whether you’re busy doing something else. You must stop and pet and hold him. Yesterday I was sitting in front of the computer (imagine that!) when he woke up from a nap and wandered into the computer room. He jumped from the top of the shredder which sits next to my desk, to the top of my desk, and he leaned against my right arm (my “mouse” arm) and began rubbing his face against the side of my head, purring madly. I picked him up and flipped him onto his back, holding him like a baby. He laid patiently, purring, and let me rub his belly. When he’d had enough love, he turned over onto his stomach and walked across my desk. There, he stretched. And then? And then. And then I got the Best Picture EVER Taken. (That’s a yawn)]]>