Category: Life

You Are Diet Coke

You are energy in its purest form. No need to complicate things with sweetness.
And while people may hate your aftertaste, you are seen as a necessary evil. Your best soda match: 7 Up Stay away from: Coke * * * Good GOD it’s gotten cold around here lately. I’ve gone from wearing a light Coolmax t-shirt when I’m walking in the mornings, to having to wear a sweatshirt this morning. Plus, it’s been raining like hell, and cold+rainy=SUCK. I’m just glad I didn’t let Fred take the space heater out to the shed to store it for the summer, because I’ve been using it quite a bit over the last few days. I’m READY FOR SUMMER, THANK YOU. * * * Pet store kitty pics from yesterday are here. * * * Sugarbutt shows off his bidness. All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: I like cats. They’re good to eat. 2004: No entry. 2003: We’re some calendar-loving motherfuckers, that’s right. 2002: Kitty meeting. 2001: So… I guess we could probably sell your shithole… 2000: It sounds like there’s a lot to do in Gatlinburg, so it should be fun.]]>

* * * On Saturday, we all got up bright and early, Fred to get groceries, the spud to go to work, and me because Fred and I had decided to go fishing. Fred was back with the groceries pretty quickly, and I put them away while he went out to get the fishing stuff ready to go. We left sometime after 7, and headed to Madison County Lake, where we rented a small boat and headed out for some fishing. Fred did all the fishing – I’ve never been much of a fisher, so I brought a book with me and alternately read and enjoyed the scenery while he fished. He didn’t have much luck, so after about three and a half hours, we headed for home. Naturally, I took pictures. The ducks like Cheerios. “Hey, rumor has it you’ve got Cheerios. Hand ’em over, lady!” Considering what a shrieky girly-girl I can be, it would probably amaze you to know how excited I got when Fred spotted this frog hopping across the grass. We also saw a baby snake swimming – SWIMMING – along the shoreline, but I wasn’t fast enough with the camera. I continue to think that it’s the height of wrongness that snakes can actually swim. ::shudder::

* * * Oh, and here’s something funny that happened. Thursday, after Fred tried fishing in Decatur and didn’t catch anything, he had a bunch of crickets left over. Once the cats were done sniffing at them, we put the cricket bucket out in the garage, and then because every time I opened the garage door the cats went racing out to sniff at the crickets, I put the cricket bucket out in the driveway, next to the trash can. The next morning, Fred said “All the crickets were gone this morning.” “How odd,” I said. “The bucket wasn’t knocked over, was it?” “No, it was in the same place and the same position as it was last night.” So we discussed it for a little while and decided it had to be the work of a bird, a snake, or a possum. When we got back from fishing on Saturday, we left the bucket out in the driveway again, and then went to Ruby Tuesday’s for lunch. When we got home about an hour later, all the crickets were gone, and there were several splatters of bird poop around the bucket. Mystery solved, I guess. * * * When I got up yesterday morning and came downstairs, I found these sitting on my desk: (On the left: “Snax Lady”. On the right: “My mama”.) When I opened them, I found these cards: (front) (inside) (front) (inside) I know it makes us gigantic dorks, getting cards for each other from the cats on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, but when I opened those cards and saw how Fred the cats had signed them, I laughed out loud. And then, because it was Mother’s Day and I don’t gotta do nothin’ on Mother’s Day (aside from vacuum, clean out the litter box, and do dishes, that is), I sat on the couch and completely cleared off the DVR. I decree Mother’s Day a huge success! * * * There are four men running for Madison County Coroner, and I’m seeing their signs everywhere. Their names are: Bobby Berryhill Carlton Cash Greg Goodwin Dennis Green Poor Dennis Green. Apparently no one told him about the alliteration rule. Poor man doesn’t have a chance! * * * Dirty boys. This could totally be on a movie poster about forbidden love – Brokeback Kitties. Tommy experiments to see if he can lick Sugarbutt’s ENTIRE head at the same time. The look on Tommy’s face cracks me UP. Here, here’s a closeup: All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: So far, I believe she’s ahead in the fart wars. 2002: That damn PTA. I will NOT be suckered in again by them, damnit! 2001: Realtors. 2000: New eyes, new hair – I’ll practically be a whole new woman!]]>

DAMN IT. The DVR screwed up and didn’t tape “My Name is Earl” last night, and it was the season finale DAMNIT. Anyone know where I can find it online? iTunes doesn’t carry it. Suggestions complete with direct links would be muchly appreciated. On a side note, Fred said one day that Tommy is the Earl and Sugarbutt is the Randy of our household. I could only laugh, ’cause it is TOO TRUE.

* * * Fred is just a big ol’ liar. It never happened, I tells ya! * * * Someone did a site search recently that makes me think they’re looking for Gmaps Pedometer – it’s here, and it rocks. You’re welcome. * * * Currently reading: I Thought My Father was God. Finished yesterday: Winter House, by Carol O’Connell. Mallory’s becoming a little more human, it seems. I’m not sure if I like that (but I loved the book). * * * Fred got a bug up his butt (figuratively speaking) yesterday and decided that, in spite of the strong winds, he wanted to go fishing. So he came home a little early, loaded up the car, and we headed for Decatur. We ended up stopping near where we’d gone kayaking on Saturday, and he went down to the water with his stuff, while I sat in the car and read. The water was extremely choppy, and I was glad we weren’t out in it in the kayaks, because I would have surely tipped over. We ended up going to three different locations for Fred to fish, but the little bastards weren’t biting, so we went home fishless. He’s thinking about going again this weekend – depending on the weather – so maybe he’ll have better luck. We did bring home a special surprise for the kitties, though, one they liked a lot. Crickets! The only cat who really wasn’t that interested – at least not enough to come for an up-close sniff – was Spanky. We let them sniff at the crickets until Mister Boogers got too excited and knocked the bucket over, then the game was over, and Fred put the crickets in the garage. Later, when he opened the door to the garage, Sugarbutt and Tom Cullen went running out. Sugarbutt located the crickets right away (no great task, since they were singing like mad), but Tommy was all over the garage sniffing wildly before he realized where they were. Poor crickets; stuck in a bucket, sniffed at by kitties, and doomed to be impaled on a hook and dropped into water. I don’t envy them. * * * The spud only has a week and a half of school left. Where the hell did the year GO? * * * For the past few nights before he toddled off to bed, Fred has opened the drawer to the bedside table on his side of the bed (only “his side” until he goes off to bed, then it’s “my side”), gotten out the laser pointer, and teased the cats with it. Sugarbutt and Tommy go absolutely wild, racing around after the laser beam, hoping against hope that THIS will be the time they catch it. After a few minutes of teasing, Fred goes off to bed, and I’m left alone with two cats who still don’t know where that little dot of red light went, and they spend the next half hour searching for it. “Is it under the covers? Is it behind the bed? Is it on Mom’s foot?” Last night, they’d both settled down and gone to sleep, when I opened that drawer to get out my ear plugs and bite plate, and they both immediately woke up and raced over to chase the little red dot. It took them another half hour to calm down again. One of these days I’ll have to remember to bring the movie camera upstairs with me, and make a movie of it. It’s pretty funny to see tubby little Toms racing around with his belly swaying back and forth. I haven’t put up any cat movies in a lonnnnng time, so I think it’s about time to start posting them again. * * * So, because lately it seems like all my shoes are really too big for me, I decided to look around online and see if I could find a way to figure out my shoe size without having to drag my lazy ass to the store. I found this page, and followed all the instructions. If I did everything right (not something you can assume, sadly), my shoe size has gone from a 9 wide to an 8 or 8 1/2 regular since I had weight loss surgery. Tomorrow I’m going to head over to the shoe department at Kohl’s and try on shoes and see if my feet have really gotten smaller. And then I guess I’ll need to start replacing my shoes – which won’t be any great undertaking, since I think I own maybe seven pairs of shoes, and three of those are sneakers. Here’s a math problem for you: if I’ve lost 74 pounds and gone down half a shoe size (if not an entire shoe size), what will my shoe size be when I reach my goal weight in another 89.5 pounds? Is there such a thing as a negative shoe size? * * * It’s always nice to have a brudder around to clean those hard-to-reach places behind your ears. “Excuse me? Doctor? It appears that I have a small gray box growing out of my neck?” Such a sweet little Tubby Toms face. Something has disturbed the Spankster. All of today’s uploaded pictures can be seen here. * * * Previously 2005: If my nose is cold, the rest of me is cold. 2004: I guess this is what we get for living in the Bible Belt, isn’t it? 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: Ah well. Maybe next life.]]>

* * * A few months ago, I visited the local Dress Barn, because I was between appointments and needed to kill some time. While I was there, I bought some jeans and a shirt that were several sizes too small for me, with the intention of taking progress pictures in them (which y’all won’t be allowed to see until I actually fit into the jeans and shirt, so don’t even ask). As I was checking out, the sales clerk told me that if I applied for a Dress Barn credit card, I’d save 20% on the entire purchase. So I went ahead and applied for it, saved 20% on the entire purchase, and promptly forgot about it. Until a few weeks later when the credit card appeared in the mail. I looked it over, decided to keep it rather than cancelling it, and stuck it in my desk drawer on my “things to deal with later” pile. Last week, I rediscovered it in my desk drawer, I decided to call and have it “activated.” Now, it’s been my experience in the past that when you call to have a credit card activated, you end up with an automated system, you enter a few numbers, and they activate it. Only this time when I called to activate this particular card, I entered the credit card number and my home phone, and had to wait while I was connected to an operator. She asked me a few questions, then started in on this fucking sales spiel wherein I could register all my credit cards with some program, and if a card was ever stolen, all I’d have to do is call them, and they’d take care of it! (Or some shit like that.) I listened politely for a few minutes, and then said “I’m not interested.” Which to ME means “I’m not interested,” but to the operator apparently was code for “I might be interested. Try harder!” So the operator took a deep breath and said “Ma’am, are you aware that there are 25,000 instances of identity theft every day?” To my current chagrin, instead of responding with “Are you aware that 80% of all statistics are made up and have no numbers to back them up whatsoever, so what I suspect is that you pulled that number out of your ass”, I said “I. Am. Not. Interested.” AND SHE CONTINUED TRYING TO SELL ME ON THE FUCKING PROGRAM. As if Dress Barn wouldn’t be making enough money off of me with their ridiculously high interest rate. I managed to finally convey to her that I was completely, totally uninterested, could not be LESS interested, NO THANK YOU, and she told me she’d “activate” my card, and I was able to get off the phone, but I wish in retrospect that I’d just told her to cancel the fucking account. I know it’s not her fault, she was just doing her job, but it really PISSES ME OFF when a company who is going to be making money off you anyway proceeds to try to get every last fucking penny out of you that they possibly can. And I KNOW people fall for it, and THAT just pisses me off even more. I think I’m going to cancel the fucking card, because I don’t even need the damn thing ANYWAY, and I’m going to include a letter detailing exactly why I’m cancelling it. Fuckers.

* * * The spud now has her very own checking and savings account at the credit union – one more step toward being a grownup. She’s started saving for a down payment on a car, because she very much wants her own car. I can’t blame her – I want her to have her own car, too! Hopefully whatever she ends up with will get her through college, at the very least, and perhaps even a few years longer. * * * You know that picture of Tommy I put up in yesterday’s entry? I found the picture of Tubby that it reminded me of. First, Tommy: Now, Tubby: Very similar, no? No wonder I’ve been calling Tommy “Tommy Tubs” lately. (But then, I’ve also been calling him “Timmy Toms” too, so that might not mean anything.) * * * I must say, I am VERY disappointed in Meredith and Izzie (on Grey’s Anatomy) for the bitchy high-school way they’ve been acting toward Callie. CLEARLY they’re just JEALOUS, because she is HOT HOT HOT and they… well, personally, I find them both a little lacking in the heat department. Also, what are they, her MOTHERs? I’ve seen Izzie put her hands all over that scuzzy Alex Karev, and didn’t see her burning her skin off to cleanse the scuzziness from her body afterwards, so she’s got NO ROOM TO TALK about the possibility of Callie wandering around with a few drops of urine on her hand. Besides, I KNEW Callie was going to have gone to the kitchen to wash her hands because of the High School Bitches standing there staring at her, and anyway, what the hell was she supposed to do, push the annoying Meredith out of the way to get to the sink? GOD I HATE MEREDITH. Can’t they kill her off? Why couldn’t SHE have exploded instead of the HOTHOTHOT Kyle Chandler? * * * The Booger, in a pissy mood. Brudderly love. “Hellew.” All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: Now, I don’t know. I think that if your life is SO BUSY that taking the time to put a little pill in your mouth throws your entire schedule off, then perhaps it’s time to reorganize your life. 2004: You can’t have genius every day, y’know. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: SHE WAS FIXIN’ TO GO DOWN THE HILL. 2000: Poor overworked, abused child…]]>

reading: Winter House, by Carol O’Connell. Kathleen Mallory is my kinda badass.

* * * Ever have one of those weeks that starts off feeling really, really busy, and thus for the rest of the week you feel like you’re behind? My Monday was extremely busy – for me – and right now I’m wondering whether I’m ever going to have a chance to sit on my ass and watch Big Love and Desperate Housewives before Sunday. Monday I got up early, dropped the spud off at school, went to the pet store, went to Target, got home at almost 9:30, went for a 4.16 mile walk, got home, did a few things around the house that desperately needing doing, ran to the post office and the bank, went home to take my shower and change into clean clothes (I see no point in showering before I leave for the pet store, since I’m just going to get sweaty and cat-hair-y), and by the time that was done, it was almost 2:00, and time for lunch. I did manage to watch Grey’s Anatomy after lunch, but then it was time to hang out with Fred (which I like doing, so don’t get the impression I’m bitching about that), make dinner, clean the bathroom, putter around online, and so on. Tuesday I got up around 7, got dressed, puttered around the house for a while, then walked to the salon (a one-way distance of 1.8 miles, which took me almost exactly half an hour, which I think means that I’m beginning to walk a little faster) to have my hair cut and colored, walked home, vacuumed the entire house, filled the bird feeders, cleaned out the bird bath, yelled at Sugarbutt (WHY won’t he stay out of my plants? WHY?), and then ended up eating lunch (ding! ding! 2:00! Lunch time!) before I took my shower. Then it was a matter of doing a few more things around the house, and the next thing I knew, it was dinner time, the spud was off with some kids from school working on a project, then Fred was in the bathtub taking his usual nightly reading-and-Su Doku-time, and I have no freakin’ clue what the hell I did for the hour or so he was in the tub. Oh, right – I was looking at ProFlowers to find Mother’s Day arrangements to send my mother, Fred’s mother, and his stepmother. I always have a hard time deciding what arrangement of flowers to send, but I think I made some good choices this year. Today, my morning is mostly free – but I have things to do, like clean up the garage and scrub out the litter box – and then I have a 2:45 appointment with my doctor. Tomorrow I need to do some bathroom scrubbin’ and laundry, and at this point, I’m not seeing a time when I get to veg on the couch and clear off the DVR. I NEED MY VEGGING TIME, PEOPLE! At this rate, I might as well get a damn job and pay someone to do all the shit around the house. * * * Oh, speaking of my hair, I had it chopped off like I said I was going to. For comparison purposes, here’s a horrible “before” picture, wherein I look all slack-jawed and a little high: And after: Not the best picture of the new haircut (and DAMN does that mirror need to be cleaned!), but you get the idea. I think I’m going to keep this ‘do at least through the summer, and when I go back in five weeks, I may actually even have her cut it just a tad shorter. To me, my hair doesn’t look as thin as it did when it was longer, and I just love the way the layers like to do that thing where they flip out to the side. I think it suits me. It’ll suit me even more when I’ve lost the extra chins! * * * This is how lazy I am: I was sitting in front of the computer reading something (I don’t remember what) yesterday, and I realized that my contacts were kind of dry, and I could use a few drops of saline in each eye to clear up the fogginess. Instead of reaching down for my purse and grabbing the bottle of eye drops I keep in there, I deliberately thought of something sad, which made me tear up, which cleared my contacts, so I didn’t have to go through all the EFFORT of reaching for my purse and grabbing the eye drops. * * * I’ve been drinking Tropical Punch Kool-Aid (sugar free) like it’s going out of style. It took me less than 24 hours to drink 2 quarts earlier this week, but I can’t help it – the stuff is GOOD! And at 40 calories for an entire 2 quarts, I’m not going to complain. I can only imagine what that dark red coloring is doing to my insides, though. * * * When I was walking to have my hair cut and colored yesterday, I found this on the ground: Fred did a little looking around and told me that it’s 100 Drachmas, which is worth about 37 cents in the US. We’re rich! I’m always finding change on the ground while I’m out walking; in an average week I’ll find anywhere from a couple of pennies to fifty cents or more. I guess that’s what happens when you walk along looking at the ground. * * * Sugarbutt and Mister Boogers love to jump up on the bird bath and drink the water. Which is probably HORRIBLE for them, given how rarely I clean the damn thing out. I’ll do better, I promise. Wouldn’t want to make the babies sick. Sugarbutt jumping into the picture like that cracks me UP. Places to go, people to see! If that ain’t a Tubby look on his face, I don’t know what is. All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: We call him… FANG! 2004: Who has more fun that me, kids? That’s right, NO ONE! 2003: No entry. 2002: I think I’ll call him Fredriq, and make him talk in a French accent and squeal with excitement while he’s doing it. 2001: Your shoes are not lined up exactly, and what’s this?? A PIECE OF GRASS ON THE BOTTOM OF YOUR SHOE??? TO THE DUNGEON WITH YOU!” 2000: Exhausting!]]>

hither.

* * * List three “simple things” that make you really happy: 1) The color yellow. 2) Most anything little and soft and fuzzy (I saw the tiniest baby bunny when I was out walking last week – seriously, it could have fit in the palm of my hand), and it made me happy all day long. 3) Knowing I have close to a year’s worth of books sitting on the bookcase in my bedroom. List three things that make you really sad: 1) That I live so far from the ocean. 2) That I still haven’t written that book. 3) The most recent episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Seriously, just thinking about that surgical intern apologizing to the father, and the father’s reaction makes me want to lay my head down and cry. If you could go back in time and tell the 12 year-old you three things, they would be: 1) Boys aren’t that important. 2) PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR SCHOOLWORK. 3) Buy stock in Microsoft. * * * 1. What does your Livejournal name mean? My Livejournal name is RobynAnd3rson, and… it’s my name! 2. Elaborate on your default icon? It’s this picture of Flossie, and I still just love it to death. 3. Make up a question. “Are you hungry?” Yes. 4. What’s your current relationship status? Happily married! 5. What EXACTLY are you wearing right now? Gray cotton pants, pink panties, an ugly green pullover, and a beige bra. 6. What is your current problem? I’m sleepy and want to go back to bed. 7. What do you love most? Books and my BobPod. 8. What makes you most happy? Sleeping, purring kitties. 9. Are you musically inclined? Not at ALL. 10. If you could go back in time and change something, what would you change? I couldn’t possibly choose one single thing. 11. If you MUST be an animal for ONE day, what would you be? A cat, of course. One of MY cats. Probably Sugarbutt or Spanky, ’cause they’re both so happy. 12. Ever have a near death experience? Nope. 13. Name an obvious quality you have. I’m an airhead. 14. What’s the name of the song that’s stuck in your head right now? Denis Leary, I’m an Asshole. 15. Who did you cut and paste this from? I don’t recall, actually. Someone on LiveJournal! 16. Name someone with the same birthday as you. Richard Nixon. 17. Have you ever vandalized someone’s private property? Once, when I was a Senior in high school, I left a carton of eggs in the trunk of my car for two weeks, and then my then-friend Dave Ridley and his girlfriend and I drove around and threw them at the cars of his friends on the football team. Does that count? 18. Have you ever been in a fight? Nothing stronger than a slap-fight. Are you kidding? I’d shit myself and pass out before anyone got a chance to hit me. 19. Have you ever sung in front of a large audience? HELL NO. You’re welcome. 20. What is the first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Their smile. 21. What do you usually order from Starbucks? I’ve probably only had Starbucks maybe twice in my life, and I think it was some sort of strawberries and cream drink. Anything without coffee in it will probably do, though. 22. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? Oh, yes. I was once told I looked like Mama Cass. I WAS DELIGHTED, as you can imagine. 23. Do you still watch kiddy movies or TV shows? Nope. 24. Did you have braces? Yeah, but not for long. Long enough so that they were tightened the DAY before Thanksgiving, though. 25. Are you comfortable with your height? For the most part, except when I’m trying to grab something from the top shelf. 26. What is the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you? That’s none o’ yer bidness. 27. Do you speak any other languages? No – I wish I’d stuck with French; I took two years of it in high school, and remember very little of it, except how to count to ten. In fact, if I’m trying to lull myself to sleep, I’ll think “huit, neuf, dix” (8, 9, 10) over and over again. 28. Do you have a crush on someone on your LJ? Nope, not a one. I’m sure there are many broken hearts over that! * * * From my comments: So, I don’t suppose we could get to keep the Smart & Sassy archives, could we? Just thought I’d ask. 🙂 Those things were funny. I think the answer to that one is a resounding “no.” And another interesting thing about judging people by how they look, what they wear, drive.. So many people are so freaking in DEBT trying to look like they have money. One never knows WHO has money or maxed out credit these days. Until they go bankrupt. TELL me about it – those Oprah Debt Diet shows make me nervous as hell. I mean, people who make $50,000 a year and owe like $50,000 on credit cards, not to mention they have to drive fancy cars and wear designer suits? Oh, they make me crazy, and I worry about them. Especially that couple who was spending some amazing amount of money on food every month because they NEVER cooked at home, always ordered out. Crazy! I’ve gotten lots of shit about our electric fence too. Our dog collars chirp and vibrate a warning when the dogs get close to the fence. Soon as they hear/feel the vibrate they get an “oh shit” look on their faces.. then turn right around, no shock. I don’t think people understand that, they think the collars shock the shit out of the animals all day or something. I think that the cats have each been shocked MAYBE twice each. If I’m outside with them and they venture too close to the fence, they hear a beep, and they immediately back off. They know what that beep means, and they’re smart about obeying it. But is it wrong that sometimes in the middle of the night, when they’re all racing around like their asses are on fire, I wish I could zap them and make them calm the hell down? Ok, I was wondering if you read Ender’s Game, (my absolute favorite book ever) and what you thought of it. I got the whole series for Christmas, but I haven’t read any of them yet, because I have a very convoluted system of reading – the top two shelves on my bookcase are set up exactly in the order that I intend to read; there’s an older book (one I’ve had for six months or more), a new book, and then a “series” book, lather, rinse, repeat. The Ender’s Game series hasn’t made it onto the top shelves yet, but they’re due to be added when there’s room. I’m a frequent reader but I don’t think I’ve before. Have you read the book “The Millionaire Next Door”? It talks about how “today’s millionaires” get that way by doing exactly what you and Fred do — live in a fairly simple home, drive inexpensive cars, save a lot of their income, etc. I haven’t read it yet, but I do believe I own it! I’m reading Blood Memory right now as well. I find the author to be an extremely wordy writer, so much so that I find I skim quite a bit. Are you enjoying this one? This is the first one of his that I have read, but my mom loves his work. I did enjoy Blood Memory, but I agree with you – Greg Iles is one wordy motherfucker, and I think he may have attained a level of success where he isn’t edited as heavily as he needs to be. I’ve enjoyed all his books that I’ve read, though I’ve liked some of them more than others. Robyn, I also have a DVR and it doesn’t tattle on me but it doesn’t listen. I always set my shows to only record the first showing of each new episode, but inevitably, it will record the episode every. single. time. it airs. So, if I record something like Top Chef and tell it “Only new episodes”, it ALWAYS records all of them so I have to go in every day and clean out all of the stuff I’ve already seen that was repeated at 1 am, 3 am, 6 am, and so forth. I wondered if you have this problem too? Our DVR is actually set up so that when you’re setting up to record, you can choose one of three options – either record all episodes of the show, just one episode of the show, or all first-run episodes. I usually choose the first-run episodes, and so far the DVR has worked just fine! Did I miss something? I thought the Spud & the Boyfriend broke up? Maybe I was dreaming. Spud and the current boyfriend have been together for two or three weeks; before that, there were a couple of other boyfriends, and some she broke up with, and some broke up with her, so you’re not dreaming! What do you think of So NoTORIous? I find it to be hilarious! I thought it was pretty damn funny, actually – despite the fact that I find Tori Spelling annoying most of the time – but I think I’m going to try to catch all the episodes when there’s a marathon and watch them all at once. Or get them when they’re out on DVD! Have you watched the Six Feet Under series yet? If not, get it on your Netflix list! The reason I ask; I read that Michael C. Hall, who played David Fisher is supposed to be doing a movie based on a “Dexter” novel. Until reading that, I had never heard of the series. If you like the books, I better check them out! The Six Feet Under series (at least the first season) is on my Netflix list. I don’t know how soon I’ll be getting to them, though, because given how long it’s taking me to work my way through the first season of Gilmore Girls (I’ve had disc 4 for two weeks now and haven’t had a chance to watch it yet!), it could be a few years! Oooh – and according to Internet Movie Database, it’s going to be a series rather than a movie. That could be interesting! Aw, poor E’gar! It sure is a cute car from the rear. Are you still thinking of the next car being a Mini Cooper?? At this point I have no idea what the next car is going to be, but I’m leaning toward a yellow Mustang! I’m sure I’ll change my mind a hundred times between now and then, though. Why is Fred’s (kayak) yellow and yours is not? Who let him have yellow when you were stuck with red. I thought you were the queen of yellow. and Someone else beat me to it, but I was all, “!!!!!!!!!” when I saw that you weren’t in the yellow kayak! What’s up with that?! Fred’s only using the yellow kayak because it has a lower weight limit… and he’s (for the time being, anyway!) got the lower weight! You better believe I’ll be claiming it for my own as soon as possible, though! Kayaking looks fun but a little scary. Does the kayak rock a lot from the other boats’ wakes? I’d be afraid of tipping over, those plants growing in the water creep me out too! It rocks a little from the other boats’ wakes, but as long as you know the wake is headed your way, you can turn the kayak and face into the wake, and it’s not too bad. I like the waves ’cause it reminds me of the ocean – but I’m seriously hoping that I never tip the kayak over, because that water can be very scary! What camera do you guys use while you are kayaking? I’m paraniod to take my digital when we go out and about in the water. If you are taking the digital, how is that working out for you guys? I take my Sony Cyber-Shot DSC-P200 with me. I keep it in a plastic one-zip bag, with air blown into the bag (to make it buoyant, should it fall into the water). There was a time when we went kayaking the first time and I took a bunch of pictures, that I thought I was going to drop the camera into the water, because it was so choppy out. So far, though, there’s been no damage at all, and I hope it stays that way! OMG, A friend emailed me with a link to this cartoon, and the first thing I thought was. “It’s Sugarbutt!” That is TOTALLY Sugarbutt. And what’s funny is that I’m gradually switching his claw caps over to blue, so it really IS Sugarbutt! * * * Currently reading: Lucy Crocker 2.0, by Caroline Preston. I’m enjoying this book a great deal – I even stayed up ’til midnight reading it, which I haven’t done in quite some time; lately, I’ve been in bed by 10 and up early, because I’m apparently changing into a completely different person! Recently finished: Catch Me, by AJ Holt. I wasn’t crazy about it – I had a hard time concentrating on what was going on in the book; I thought Watch Me was a lot better. * * * “My god, but I am just spoiled ROTTEN.” “BahaHAHAH! Life is GOOD.” * * * Previously 2005: NO ONE GIVES A SHIT ABOUT COREY CLARK. 2004: No entry. 2003: You know you’re hormonal when the video for Reba McEntire’s “Fancy” (hee! I almost typed “Fancypants”) makes you all teary-eyed. 2002: It rocked. I loved it. I see a strong love for sushi in my future. 2001: I’ve managed to stay strong. 2000: Poor, poor pitiful me.]]>

I am going to have a used book sale on June 3rd in my town of (deleted), IL. All the money will go to the Fire Dept to purchase trauma teddies. Trauma teddies are stuffed animals given to kids that are in need of comfort after a traumatic event. It came to my attention that they are out of them because my 2 year old son has needed to go by ambulance to the hospital twice since Feb 14th and they didn’t have any. I belong to a volunteer organization, called the Jaycees and I know this book sale will be well attended in our community. I just really need books to sell. If you have any books to donate, maybe they can be shipped to me? Or maybe you and Fred have readers in Illinois that would donate? If anyone, anywhere, wants to send book to Illinois to donate them for a very good cause, email me, and I’ll pass your email on to Janet. Thank you!!!

* * * Saturday evening, after we’d had a scrumptious dinner of catfish, sliced tomatoes and corn, Fred went upstairs to take his usual nightly bath, and I sat down on the couch in an attempt to catch up on the last few remaining episodes of Oprah and Dr. Phil I’d DVR’d. The blinds on the windows (and door) on the back of the house were all open, and so when Mister Boogers went across the back yard in a low run, he caught my eye. He did that stop-and-start run that cats on the stalk like to do, and then he ran under the shed. I’d just had enough time to wonder what he could have seen under the shed, when he came running out from under the shed, something small in his mouth. “Shit!” I yelled, and flew up off the couch, running in the direction of the cat door. If I could block the cat door fast enough he wouldn’t be able to bring whatever it was inside the house. I wasn’t fast enough, though, and he came through the cat door, ran through the computer room, and headed upstairs. I followed him as fast as I could, yelling the entire way. He went into the master bedroom and I followed him, shutting the door behind me so that he – and whatever was in his mouth – couldn’t escape. Mister Boogers ran under the bed, and I yelled for Fred to come help me. I got on my hands and knees by the bed and yelled at Mister Boogers to drop whatever he had, and he responded by running out from under the bed. Then he jumped up on the bed, and dropped what was in his mouth. A chickadee. Not only a chickadee, but a BABY chickadee, and it was dead. Fred picked it up and held it while I went and got some paper towels to wrap it in. I made some sad sounds, gave Mister Boogers a dirty look, and brought the bird downstairs to put it in the big trashcan outside the garage. I sat back down on the couch and began watching Dr. Phil, and less than two minutes later, my attention was caught by something outside. A couple of adult chickadees were squawking in a pissed-off manner, and looked like they were dive-bombing something. I stood up and looked, and Tommy was running across the yard, something in his mouth. I ran out the back door, yelling the entire way for Tommy to “Drop it! Drop it, Tommy! DROP IT!” He ignored me, and kept running for the cat door, and I swerved to cut him off so he couldn’t get to it. He swerved away from me and after some chasing (and much yelling), I caught him. I picked him up and shook him, yelling for him to drop it. He did, and I saw for sure that it was another baby chickadee, but at least this one was alive. In my hands, Tommy squirmed, and he’s turning into a portly little fucker, and I had no choice but to drop him. He might be portly, but he’s a quick motherfucker, and he immediately had that baby chickadee in his jaws again. I picked him up and yelled at him some more, and after he dropped the chickadee, I went across the back yard to the cat door, shoved him through it, and pulled the bottom part of the window down so that none of the cats could get outside. The baby chickadee was just sitting in the middle of the lawn, not moving much, so I walked over to it to see if it was okay. It let me get about a foot away, and then it took off flying. It was able to fly almost to the other side of the yard, but it couldn’t get any height in its flying – it stayed about 6 inches above the ground – and I thought that if I could put it in the platform bird feeder, it might be able to get some air under its wings and do some real flying. So I chased it for a few minutes, before it gave up and ended up hopping onto my foot. I picked it up and carried it over to the bird feeder, but it refused to leave my hand. I could feel its little heart just pounding, and I spoke soothingly to it, and after a few minutes it calmed down. The entire time, the two chickadees flitted around the yard, bitching at me, by the way. I could see every cat in the house milling around in the dining room, trying to get out through the cat door. And Tommy sat in the window, giving me a dirty look ’cause I had taken his toy away. I ended up sitting on the patio, the bird in my hand. It let me pet him, and it actually even fell asleep for a few moments. Finally, Fred came downstairs from his bath, and I told him to go get my camera, because OF COURSE I needed pictures. After the pictures had been taken, Fred took the bird and put it down in the middle of the yard. The two adult chickadees flew back and forth, and we watched them, then decided to go back inside so that the adults could do whatever they needed to do to help the baby. An hour or so later, we looked outside and didn’t see the baby anywhere, but one of the adults kept flying over to the bird feeders, grabbing up some seed, and flying up into the tree. Hopefully either the baby figured out how his wings worked, or the adults were able to get the baby back up into the nest. The really funny thing is that I just told my brother on Friday that we’d only had one bird in the house so far this year. Apparently the cats were listening, and took that as a challenge. * * * Yesterday was kind of crappy out – it was overcast and kind of cool – but neither Fred nor I wanted to be stuck in the house all day, so he decided he was going to go fishing, and asked if I wanted to go watch. I decided I would, and brought a book with me, because fishing isn’t something I’m interested in doing myself, but I was willing to go and keep him company. We ended up going out to Madison County Lake, where we spent a couple of hours, and Fred only caught a single bream – which he let go, because apparently one bream isn’t enough to make a meal. A shot across the lake. These ducks were laying here sleeping until I got too close with the camera. And then they decided to move on. * * * Did anyone else see the episode of Oprah with Dr. Mehmet Oz, where he said “Do you know where I put my nuts?!”, all excitedly, and the audience tittered like it was full of 12 year-old boys? Cracked me up. (The answer: he keeps his nuts in the refrigerator so that the oil in them doesn’t go rancid. Also, you’re supposed to eat raw nuts, not roasted nuts, because if you cook them, the oil in them breaks down, and they’re not as good for you.) * * * “Hey, let’s eat lots of grass, then go inside and barf it up in several strategic locations through the house!” “Good plan!” “How YOU doin’?” ]]>

reading: Catch me, by AJ Holt. Recently finished: My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy. I usually adore everything Pat Conroy writes, but this one I just didn’t care for. I don’t know if it’s ’cause I don’t give a damn about sports or what, but the book only about half held my interest the entire way through. Finished before that: The Wonder Spot, by Melissa Banks. Loved it!

* * * So yes, I took yesterday off. I was actually up early enough to pound out an entry, but I puttered around the house for long enough that after I took my shower and got dressed, I had about ten minutes to kill before I needed to leave the house, and thus! No entry for you! I left a little after 8, because I had a 9:00 appointment with the nutritionist in South Huntsville and GOD I hate driving to South Huntsville when it entails making the change from 565 to South Parkway, because other people have the utter nerve and gall to be driving on the same roads, and the instant you get onto the Parkway you have to move, like, three lanes to the left or you’ll be forced to exit. ANYhoo, I made it to the nutritionist’s office without any problems and spent a little while cooling my heels in the waiting room, then about ten minutes talking to him (basically, he looked over my last week’s worth of menu, told me I was doing great, asked about exercise, and told me to email or call if I have any questions. Also, he gave me the go-ahead to start adding raw vegetables back to my diet, woohoo! And I mean that “woohoo!” in a completely sincere and non-ironic way, which is a little sad, but whatEVERRRR.). Now, I had an appointment at noon on the same side of Huntsville, and I had thought that perhaps I’d park somewhere and do some walking – since I didn’t have time to exercise before I left the house – but in the end I decided not to, and so when I left the house I didn’t bother to bring my sneakers or iPod; after my appointment was over, it was so nice that I was really wishing I’d brought my stuff, but since I didn’t I decided to do a little shopping and then run home for a little while. I stopped by Sam’s to look at the big planters, decided that they were too expensive and I’d just use the broken-down planters we already had (I bought some Million Bells Petunias to put in planters on the front porch), and then went to Target for – what else? – kitty litter and toilet paper. I got home and had about 45 minutes to kill before I needed to leave, so I cleaned the kitchen and vacuumed the entire house, then did some of the spud’s laundry (out of the goodness of my own heart, and for which I received NO “thank you”, by the way) and then I ended up leaving the house about 5 minutes late. I got to my appointment – a consultation for laser hair removal – right on time. It turns out that since the hair on the majority of my face is so light (very blond, but very thick, damnit), they couldn’t do laser hair removal on my whole face, but since the hair on my upper lip is dark enough, they could do that. And since it’s my mustache that bothers me the most, I decided to go ahead and have it done. And apparently once you say “Let’s do it!”, they’re ready to do it right then and there. So she led me into a room with a recliner-type table, shaved the dark hair on my upper lip, put gel on it, gave me big, ugly glasses to put on, and began with the lasering. And it hurt like a motherfucker. I’ve always heard it said that it feels like being snapped with a rubber band, but to me it felt like someone was jabbing me with a needle. I can’t imagine if I’d ended up being able to have my entire face done – it would have driven me crazy, I’m sure. So I go back in six weeks for another treatment, and believe you me, I am NOT looking forward to it. Hopefully it’ll help, though. I’m still disappointed, though – I had hoped they’d be able to laser ALL the hair off my face, and sure it’s not as noticeable as if it were dark hair, but I always notice it, damnit. Maybe I’ll invest in an at-home waxing kit and teach myself how to wax the hair off my face. Now, THAT would be a clusterfuck, I’m sure. * * * One day last week the spud mentioned to me that she thought it was time for an eye checkup, because things on the blackboard at school were appearing kind of blurry to her. I asked her if she’d be interested in getting contacts, and at first she said no, but after talking to her boyfriend she changed her mind and decided she might want to get contacts. So I called and made the appointment for Monday after school. Monday came, and I picked her up at school and we dropped her stuff off at home, and then headed out for the eye appointment. It turns out that her eyes have changed a little bit in the last two years, but not much. The optometrist said he thought that maybe her eyes were starting to level off, and there probably wouldn’t be a lot of change in the future. Then he asked her if she was interested in contacts, and she hemmed and hawed and finally I said “Yes, she would.” So one of the women who works for the optometrist sat down with the spud and spent twenty minutes talking her through putting the contacts in. It took a long time for her to get the first contact in, and slightly less time to get the second one in, because several times once the contact was in, she’d blink immediately, and of course the contact would come back out. Once they were in, she had to take one of them out, and that took a while, as well. Then we went over to find a new pair of glasses for her and paid for those and the contacts (I got two boxes of contacts for her, which is a six-month supply), and we headed home. “Do you still sometimes blink when you put your contact in, and it falls out?” she asked, as I was driving toward home. “No, I’ve been wearing contacts for….” I did some mental calculations. “Twenty-five years, so I’m used to it.” And then I immediately fell over dead, because I am ANCIENT. How the hell is it possible that I can remember something that happened twenty-five years ago? I mean, I remember every detail of that optometrist’s office, and having him coach me through putting the contacts in and taking them out. And I remember sitting at the table with a mirror that night and not being able to get my contacts out and saying “WHYYYYYYYYYYY did I ever want contacts???” Hell, I remember the little heating unit I used to have, where I’d have to take my contacts out, rubbing cleaning solution on them, put them in the case, and then put the case in the heating unit. And nowadays, I just pop my contacts out, put them in solution, and take them out in the morning and put them in without having to rinse them or anything. It’s amazing how times change, ain’t it? * * * Tommy in motion. Sugarbutt, watching his brothers run around like little maniacs. Boogie in motion (pardon the blurriness). Tommy, hauling ass. Sugarbutt in motion. “WHAT are those crazy boys doing?” Tommy in motion. All of today’s uploaded pictures can be seen here. * * * Previously 2005: Did I really write a chapter about my sex life? Eek! What was I thinking? 2004: “YES! Yes, she’s sick! No, she’s not sleeping, she’s SICK, and SHE’S ABOUT TO DIE, NOW WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!” 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: It wasn’t until I said “I think she’s messed up in the head” that something clicked for her.]]>