Category: Life

I, on the other hand, am a badass. I laugh in the face of the burning Lidocaine shots in the tender skin of my back! Haha! WHAT pain?” The doctor and the nurse were suitably impressed. “Why, you could PROBABLY do this whole operation without numbing the area at ALL, because I am SUCH a badass! But I know how you doctors like to wield those needles…” The nurse and I gave each other knowing looks. “Can you feel this? Or this?” The doctor said, apparently jabbing me in numbed areas. “Not at all,” I said. “But I’m such a BADASS that even if I completely felt that, I probably wouldn’t tell you! Because I LAUGH -” “-in the face of pain,” the nurse completed in a bored monotone. “Yeah, we know.” I heard the clank of instruments, and then saw a scalpel go by my face. We chatted while the big hunk of skin was removed from my back, and I mentioned the many sunburns I’d suffered as a child living in Guam, and how no doubt I was going to die from the skin cancer because my PARENTS DON’T LOVE ME, but that was okay, that was just FINE, because I am a badass, and I laugh – “in the face of pain?” the doctor suggested. “No! In the face of death! Ha! Ha!” A huge hunk of skin went through my line of vision, and the doctor placed it in a cup of some sort of liquid so that it could be sent to the lab and tested. “Make sure you tell them I’m a badass!” I insisted. “Yeah, I’ll get right on THAT,” the nurse said. “Okay,” the doctor said, and I saw more metal go by my face. As she worked, she gave me care instructions for the wound that she was stitching up. “Keep it covered for twenty-four hours,” she said. “After that, put Neosporin or Bactriban on it, and keep it covered for three days with a band-aid.” I immediately discarded the idea of keeping it covered for twenty-four hours, because I AM A BADASS, and BADASSES love their BBC “Coupling”, and the only time I allow my badass self to watch “Coupling” is when I’m on the badass elliptical trainer (how, after all, do you think I STAY such a badass?), and after I kick ass on the elliptical trainer, I’ll have to take a shower, which will entail getting the wound wet, which will entail replacing the bandage. But I’m a badass. I can handle it. The doctor began stitch number two. “And then you need to come back in ten days to have the stitches removed.” “I am SUCH a badass that instead of coming back in to have YOU remove my stitches, I’ll probably just take them out MYSELF with a pair of rusty scissors!” Somehow the nurse and doctor seemed less than impressed. “So, are you working tomorrow?” the doctor asked as she began stitch number three. “No,” I said. “I don’t work. I don’t HAVE TO. I’m such a badass my husband throws money at me every time he sees me! Sometimes I even pay the bills with it!” “And what did you do when you worked?” said the nurse. “I was an office manager,” I said, and then reflected upon what I said. “But I was a BADASS office manager. I made people CRY when I sneered at them!” Suddenly I felt a tugging sensation on my back. “Hey,” I said. “I felt THAT.” The nurse smiled. “We’re allllmost done. Just hold on to your badass horses!” I heard the snipping sound as she cut the ends off stitch number three. “So, did you like your job?” the doctor asked. “Yeah, pretty much except for when – JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE FUCK?! OH MY GOD! WHAT THE GODDAMN FUCKING HELL WAS THAT??” I flailed around. “OW! OW! OUCH, GODDAMNIT!” “Oh,” the doctor said mildly. “I guess you felt that one too, huh? Good thing you’re such a badass. If you weren’t, I might numb the area a little more! You’re going to feel a little tugging…” “OWWWWW! OWWWWW! OH GODDAMN, MAKE IT STOP!” I screamed and flailed some more. “Hold her down,” the doctor ordered, not sounding nice in the least. The nurse threw herself across me to hold me down. I flailed the best I could, but the nurse was stronger than I’d expected. “Just one more!” the doctor said cheerily. “OWWWWWWW! OWWWWWWWWW! GODDAMNIT FUCKING HELL YOU BITCH I HATE YOU OWWWWWWWWWWWW!” “There,” the doctor said a few minutes later. “All done! That wasn’t so bad, was it? After ALL, you’re… what’s the word?” “A badass,” the nurse contributed. “I AM a badass!” I sniffled. “I am!” They snickered at me for a few more minutes, then I got dressed and left. Upon rethinking the incident, I am reassured that I really am the badass I keep insisting I am. Why? Because anyone ELSE would have passed out or even died from the pain, but me? Just a little yelling. A little sobbing. A little wailing and flailing. That’s right.

I’m a badass. * * * Seriously, though, I did feel the last three stitches go in, and while I was stoic and didn’t even flinch, it HURT LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER. It’s hurting today, too, even though I’ve taken Aleve. Q. Guess what makes a big ol’ wound in your back hurt? A. Sweat. Q. Guess what makes you (me) sweat a LOT? A. Doing the elliptical trainer for an hour. Q. Guess what sucks more than being on the elliptical trainer for an hour and sweating and making the big wound on your back hurt? A. Getting up at 4:50 am to do it, so that your husband (who I’m SURE will write a frickin’ SONG about it) will be around when you get out of the shower and can put ointment and a big band-aid over said big nasty wound. Yeah. That just SUCKED, because after I showered I couldn’t get back to sleep like I’d intended. Not only am I a BADASS, I’m a DEDICATED badass. You know you tremble in fear of me. How do you think I STAY such a badass? I have to keep in shape (hey… round is a shape!) so I can kick ass in a badass manner when it’s required! Keeping in mind that it’s bloody and gross and made Fred want to run around in circles and scream like a little girl, you can see a picture of my stitched-up wound here. * * * I made a cake – a poppy seed cake – this morning, and the house smells SO GOOD. I swear, if they made a perfume that smelled like cinnamon and sugar, I’d buy and wear it. Also, Meester Boogers has cake mix atop his little head, because he’s a nosy little bastard and stuck his head under the mixing beater (after I’d already mixed the cake and was pouring it into the cake pan). And for the record, he apparently likes cake mix, because not only did he lick a small amount up off the counter, but he spent the next fifteen minutes giving me the “More? Please? For a poor starving kitty?” * * * I sure do wish it’d STOP FUCKING RAINING. * * * Fred and I worked out together this morning (if “together” means “in the same room”), and I was watching the last episode of “Coupling”, season 1, and Fred actually laughed out loud not just once, but TWICE. I was actually a little surprised, because I didn’t think it would appeal to him. Maybe I can convince him to watch season 2 with me! (Not going to hold my breath, though…) * * * I hope to spend a good part of my weekend doing this. Not this, though. I don’t think I’d be comfortable in that particular position. ]]>

Secret Window the DAY it came out, and I have Reality Bites to send back today and “Coupling” tomorrow, which means that I’ll get Cold Mountain the day IT comes out, so I can force Fred to sit down and watch it with me. Whoo!

* * * I finally – FINALLY! – updated the Go Fuck Yourself page yesterday. I hadn’t done it since MARCH (since I SUCK), and I ended up adding 78 new sites. There were several sites submitted that either didn’t exist anymore or were passworded, so I trashed those emails. This brings the GFY membership up to 373; that’s something, ain’t it? I’m going to try to keep on top of things from here on out… but don’t hold your breath! * * * I finished reading The Crimson Petal and the White last night, FINALLY. I feel like I should get a prize for finishing it in (about) a week. I put up a little bit of why I rated it the way I did, but don’t read it if you haven’t read the book yet – there are spoilers. See that here. Yes. Robyn DID recently learn how to do popup windows. Why do you ask? Now it’s time to do a little light Miss Julia reading before I get started on those last three Left Behind books. Shaddup. I read the first seventy Left Behinds, and I have to see this through. LIKE I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN or something. Oh, Rayford Steele, you manly stud. Oh, Buck. (Can’t say as I have crushes on either of THOSE fictional characters…) * * * Fred pointed out last week when we were watching something on DVD that when someone falls in a movie or on TV, even if they’re only falling from a standing position to the floor, the shot that shows them laying on the floor always ALWAYS shows them with one leg kicked up to the side. It’s true! Keep an eye out and you’ll notice that there’s always one leg kicked up. It makes me want to throw myself down the stairs and see if I end up at the bottom with one leg kicked up. Heh. * * * “No, Mother. NO. I WILL NOT YAWN FOR YOU. Stop making the yawny noises, because I will no longer provide fodder for you. NO. STOP IT, damn you!” “Damn you, wo – ::yawwwwwwwwwn::” “I can’t stop yawning! I hate you.” ]]>

go donate. You’ll feel good and without all that caffeine in your system you’ll sleep like a baby tonight. I promise!

* * * So on Sunday I did something I haven’t done in the almost three years we’ve lived in this house. I grabbed my Swiffer, went out to the garage, and Swiffered the hell out of the cobwebs and old spider webs that have been building up near the ceiling. I freaked out a bunch of spiders – I didn’t go out of my way to kill any of them, as long as they ran when they saw me coming. There was one spider with long, spindly legs who got a bit combatative, though, so I had to squish him. After I Swiffered the walls and ceiling, I swept the floor, vacuumed the rugs, and straightened up a bit, and it actually looks pretty good out there – at least for now. But the sad thing is that EVERY SINGLE TIME I’ve worked out for the past 2 1/2 months, I’d look at the walls and ceilings and the floor, and think “DAMN it’s nasty out here. I need to get my ass out here and clean…” and by the time I was done working out, I’d think “Yeah, get out here and clean? I THINK NOT.” It’s clean now, though, and I think you know what that means. That’s right. I don’t have to do it again for another three years!!! (For the record, I do vacuum out there every couple of months…) * * * Also, I’m done cleaning and rearranging the spud’s bedroom. AND I vacuumed the stairs yesterday! I’m just a house-cleaning fanatic, is what I am. * * * I had all-journaler dreams last night. Not only did I visit Nance (she made me talk baby talk to her cats. Yes she did!), I went and saw Jane’s Elliot as Che in Evita (he was wonderful, of course. Put Antonia Banderas in the movie version to shame), I also helped Allison pick out a wedding dress (she looked FABULOUS, dahlink. Possibly she won’t really wear a red wedding dress in real life, though), and lastly I ran around trying to help Mo stuff Harve into a side-load cat carrier. I blame it on the PMS. * * * Exciting news! At least for me! You probably won’t be excited at all, though! My sister changed her tickets to Hawaii so that she and Brian will be landing in Hawaii on the same day as the spud and I! This means the entire time we’re there, they’ll be there, too! Woot! Seriously, I’m pretty damn excited that she’ll be there the whole time I’m there – before, I was going to get there on a Wednesday and she was going to get there on the following Saturday, which meant we’d only have four days together. Now we’ve got seven. Yay!!! Can you tell I’m getting really excited about our upcoming trip to Hawaii? ‘Cause I am!!! Wickedly excited!!!! Okay, I’ve used up a week’s worth of exclamation points. I’ll shut up now. * * * So, remember when a few days ago I mentioned I had to register for a blogspot account and didn’t know what I’d use it for? Yeah. Well, I went in and cleared out all my cookies, and now I can’t log into WordPress to post something over at the Tater. None of my usual user names or passwords work, so I’m shit out of luck. I’m pretty sure I’m about to delete it and start it up over at Blogspot or one of the other free places. I’ll let y’all know what I decide! * * * He’s the sleepingest kitty in the whole wide world.]]>

* * * I was awakened at 6:45ish this morning by a loud scream and then a stream of profanity. I woke up, listened for a moment, and then grinned and went back to sleep. It appears that Fred found the cup I left upside-down on the floor last night. When he picked it up, he found the big-ass spider I’d covered with it.

* * * From my comments: I don’t get playboy. Did they print your letter exactly as you wrote it or did they pick and choose from what you wrote? I once wrote a letter to one of my favorite magazines and they cut and pasted my letter and made me look like a complete jackass. I hope that didn’t happen to you; although, if it did, i know you’d raise enough hell to make them think twice about doing that again! They did some editing, but kept the spirit of the piece. Of course, the question is, will I really show my mother a letter I wrote to a national publication, wherein I used the words “plastic fuck dolls”? You can read what they published of the letter I sent, over at OFB. It’s about halfway down the page. robyn, i love that mostly pink quilt that the kitties are so often lounging on. is it homemade, or did you buy it somewhere. i truly feel like my life would be complete with a quilt like that. That quilt is almost as old as I am. My mother made it when I was, oh, three or four, and used scraps of material from clothes she’d made me. She thinks it’s absolutely hideous – I think it was one of the first quilts she ever made – but I adore it. It’s the perfect weight, it’s very soft, and despite the many times I’ve run it through the washer and dryer it’s holding up very well! Robyn, I’m going to Waikiki the second week of August, but just for 6 days. I know you have the swim suit situation fixed, but what about regular clothes? I don’t wear shorts in public (5’2″, 215 lbs), and I will also be there with family, some that haven’t seen me since 105 lbs, so I’m a little freaked out. Anyway, I went to Wal-mart and bought Just-My-Size stretch denim capri pants (no wide leg or flared for me) in 4 colors. I also hate hate hate to wear bras, especially in horrid humid weather, so bought spagetti-strapped tee shirts that have the built-in bra thingy. Then, I ordered 3/4 sleeve stretch button down the front shirts from Chadwick’s in great colors to wear over the tees. I already had one in white and because of the seams on the front and the back it looked so much better than the camp shirts I was going to wear. And then sandals without ankle straps. Not so good for hiking, but a short stubby girl needs all the leg length she can get. I have a bathing suit, but was wondering about the swim skirt Land’s End had in their catalogue. Did you happen to try it on? What did the spud pick out? I got a video postcard from my mother, and in the message area, she said the following: Tips: You won’t need jackets or sweaters, except on the plane. Shorts are best (even I wear them all the time). Jeans are too hot. Light weight “crop” pants or pedal pushers 2nd best. Shoes to wear in water, especially for snorkeling – walking shoes – sneakers are good but get hot – Teva’s have worked for me – sandals are okay for short distances. The wind blows a lot, so something to tie hair out of way. With that in mind, I bought a couple of pairs of shorts that are comfortable and look okay. I’m going to bring the shorts, a couple of pairs of capri pants (capri pants and “pedal pushers” are the same thing, right?), and a variety of t-shirts to wear with them all. I got my ugly board shorts from Junonia to wear with a t-shirt on the beach, and I’m going to bring my water shoes for wearing in the water, and sneakers for the rest, because my feet won’t put up with anything else when I have to walk for more than ten feet. I don’t know what I’m going to use to tie my hair out of the way, since it’s too short for that. I may have to just put up with my hair blowing in my face! The spud ended up getting the Women’s Sport Tankini, with the shorts. She looks really cute in it, but I had already decided that I was going to get the board shorts from Junonia, so I didn’t think about anything from Land’s End for myself. With all the books you give away on your giveaway page, are you a member of BookCrossings? I am actually registered with BookCrossings, but I had actually forgotten about it! I think I’ll put up a note to remind myself to register the books I give away with BookCrossings before I send them out. It’d be neat to see where they end up. (Regarding the pictures in this entry) Just wondering what that creepy looking yellowy goo stuff is crawling up the structure in the first underwater photo? It looks all slimy. Is it? And I was AMAZED that there were so many fish!! Are those the “bream”? That creepy looking yellowy goo stuff is… slimy goo stuff, of course. I have no idea what it is, but it’s all over the place under the water. I do my best not to touch the stuff, because it’s icky. And yeah, those fish are the bream, and there are some carp in there as well, and probably some other kinds of fish I don’t know the names of. They all look the same to me – the only fish I definitely know are the catfish because of their “whiskers”. Ugh. How’s The Crimson Petal and the White? It’s on my wish list, but I haven’t given in to temptation yet. It’s DAMN LONG, is what it is! I’ve been reading for days and days, and I’m just now halfway through it. I’m enjoying it more than I expected I would, though there are some slow parts. Michael Faber’s really good at the details of what life in 19th-century London was like, and I’ve actually found myself holding my breath when he talks about the smells rising from the gutter (so I can’t smell those smells, you understand). At this point, I’d rate it 3 1/2 – 4 Poos. Where did you get the collapsible cat carrier? I need to get one for my mom, well, not *for* her, but you know. Whatever. She has 2 cats and needs a carrier but doesn’t have a collapsible one. I think we actually got it when we adopted either Tubby or Miz Poo, but I know that I’ve seen them at PetSmart. It’s definitely easier to get the cats into top-load carriers than the plastic end-load carrier that we have. * * * We went to the quarry yesterday. There were a bunch of people set up on the piers at the close end of the quarry, but at the far end there was no one, so that’s where we went. We swam around for a while, watching the little fish watch us, so that Fred could try out his new snorkel. After half an hour or so we headed back to the pier and stayed in that general vicinity. “Hey, watch me!” Fred said. “I’m going to swim down under the pier and touch the rope!” It’s very dark and creepy under the pier, so it’s like a test of his manhood to go under there. I pushed off the pier so that I could watch him, he took a few deep breaths, and dove. He was not quite under the pier, when he suddenly froze, ran in place, and then swam back to the surface of the water as fast as he could. Since he is not a man prone to freak out about inconsequential things, I was pretty sure we were about to be eaten by something the size of a car, and I all but ran across the surface of the water to join him. “Holy crap!” he gasped. “Did you see that fish?” I looked back down into the water, and a few moments later a big, fat two-foot-long carp drifted into view. He eyeballed us angrily for a few seconds, and then swam away. The fish in that quarry are going to be the death of me, I swear. One of these days I’m going to look down and see a ten-foot carp glaring up at me, and I’m just going to keel over from a heart attack. Fred’s going to have to tow me back to the pier so that the bream and carp don’t nibble at my cold, dead toes. * * * ]]>

bitchypoo.blogspot.com as my own. Snazzy, eh? Just what I need, another site to neglect!

* * * Thank you to Sabrina, who sent me this link and made me shoot Diet Coke out of my nose! El Guapo! Hee! * * * Also, my evil EVIL sister-in-law sent me a creepy-ass picture. I’m not kidding, it’s creepy as all hell. You can click here to see it, but remember – I’ve warned you. CREE. PYYYY. * * * Last week’s pet store kitty pics are here, and this week’s are here. * * * So, Saturday morning, as I was sitting in front of my computer trying to force myself to get off my ass and go exercise, I looked out the window at the bright, sunny day, and said “We could go to the quarry and swim around and I could call that my exercise for the day!” And voila, it was done! Fred ate his breakfast and got ready, and we were out the door about twenty minutes later. There were a bunch of people there – a lot of divers – so we got away from the pier quickly, and swam (I use the word loosely) around the perimeter of the quarry. Fred did a couple of dives so that I could take his picture, we took turns diving down to touch the creepy algae-covered tree, and I snapped a few pictures of the fish who came to investigate just what the hell we thought we were doing. At one point, I got a bit of water in my snorkel, and it wouldn’t blow out. “Self,” I said. “It would probably be a good time to just empty out your snorkel, and you could de-fog your mask as well!” That suggestion worked it’s way up the chain of command, was debated by the bureaucrats in my brain, and it was decided that it was, in fact, a good idea. So, I pulled the end of the snorkel out of my mouth, and at the same time pulled the mask off my face. Except that someone was asleep at the wheel because when I did that, I still had my face in the water. I was immediately blinded by the rush of water into my eyes, and simultaneously, although I had no snorkel end in my mouth, I still attempted to breathe in a huge mouthful of water. But the guy in charge of the “lungs or stomach? stomach or lungs?” switch was on his toes, and the huge (I mean HUGE) mouthful of water was diverted to my stomach. Tasted pretty good, too. Kind of like rainwater. We ended up swimming around the quarry for almost two hours, which is the longest we’ve ever spent there. Fred ended up with a burn on his face, and I got a burn on the backs of my legs. Luckily the sun was only out about half the time we were there, or no doubt we would have ended up absolutely fried. (Don’t lecture me, I KNOW. I swear I’ll wear sunscreen from now on okay, MOTHER?) Once we left the quarry, we came home and put on dry clothes, then laid on the bed and talked. We’d planned to go to Applebee’s for dinner to try out their Weight Watcher’s menu, but Fred was kind of dreading going out for dinner, and I was dreading having to eat dinner at 4:00 so we could beat the crowd. Finally, I suggested we have Applebee’s for lunch instead of dinner, and he agreed. We spent half an hour or so deciding the many places in the house that needed touchup painting – especially the spud’s bedroom – and then left for lunch. I had the Teriyaki Shrimp Skewers, which was pretty good, although the dipping sauce tasted a little funny; I suspect they use fat-free something or other to make it. Fred had the Sizzling Chicken Skillet, which he liked so much that even a day later he was talking about how good it was. I had dessert – Chocolate Raspberry Layer Cake – that was so tiny that when the waiter showed up with it, Fred and I both began laughing. It was good, though, and when we left Applebee’s I was at least satisfied if not quite full. When we left Applebee’s we went to Dick’s Sporting Goods to look for a snorkel for Fred, and see what they had for fins (answer: not much). Fred picked up a pretty nice snorkel and some t-shirts, and then we headed home. After such a busy morning and afternoon (I mean, seriously. We NEVER do that much in a day on the weekend!), we settled in for naps in our respective bedrooms. I woke up about 4… and had to run for the bathroom. Which is what I spent the next four hours doing, dealing with – shall we say – intestinal issues. It appears that either the mouthful of quarry water or something I ate at Applebee’s hit me the wrong way. Fred helped by crowing “You probably have dysentery!” repeatedly. Bastard. Sunday morning I woke up and felt just fine, though. Maybe whatever I swallowed at the quarry made it’s way out the other end… or maybe it’s just laying dormant for the moment, waiting for the perfect moment to strike again. * * * “Hey! Keep it down over there!” How can this be comfortable? “If that little bastard doesn’t stop with the damn yawning…” ]]>

* * * “Baby,” I said. “I am at a complete loss. I have NO idea what to get you for Father’s Day.” “Oh, you don’t need to get me anything!” Fred said, shaking his head earnestly. “Well, I was thinking that maybe you could go get a massage, and we’d call it your Father’s Day present!” A considering gleam came to his eye and he thought for a moment. “How about a massage… and a cake from Peggy Ann’s Bakery!” he said. “Yeah!” We really REALLY like the cakes from Peggy Ann’s, and I’m no fool – I was NOT about to argue with that idea. “We can get yellow roses on it this time!” That night, while we were laying in bed, I picked up the phone. “Who are you calling?” Fred asked. I held up the shushing finger, and he said “Oh. Are you calling me?” “Hey,” I said, “Don’t forget to call Peggy Ann and order the cake. And make sure they don’t put any cheese on it. Love you!” Teasing him about his dislike for cheese on a salad just never gets old. And yes, I made him call in the order for his own Father’s Day cake. I also made him call it in for his birthday. I probably haven’t mentioned it before, but I HATE talking on the phone. This morning, Fred called me at least three times before 9:30. “When are you going to go get the cake?” he asked. “Go get the cake!” “STOP HARASSING ME!” I snapped. “You won’t be able to eat any of it until you get home this afternoon, so what’s the difference?” “I just want you to go pick it up,” he said in a small voice. “OKAY, I’m going! I’m going to the post office, and then I’ll get your damn cake. GEEZ!” After a stop at the post office and a stop to fill up my gas tank ($1.92 a gallon for the cheap stuff), I made the arduous journey to South Huntsville. It took about half an hour. “Hi!” the sales clerk chirped as I stepped through the door. “Can I help you?” “Yeah, I’m picking up a cake for And3rson,” I said. While she looked through the cake boxes, I glanced around at all the goodies on display, especially the smiley-face cookies. They had little pieces of fudge in a cup for customers to take, so I ate one, and then swooned. Fudge as good as in Gatlinburg! I looked up in time to see the sales clerk lift the top of the box, look at the cake, and then give me an odd look. Huh, I thought. I wonder if there’s a problem with the cake. She turned the cake toward me, and I stared down at it, waiting for what I saw to make sense. When I realized what it said, my face turned an instant bright red and I giggled stupidly. “Heh. Yeah. Looks good!” I said, paid as quickly as I could, grabbed the cake box, and beat a hasty retreat. In the car, I called Fred from my cell phone. “You are such a shithead!” All I heard on the other end was laughter.

* * * Doot-doot-doot, lookin’ out my back door: And out the upstairs window. Displeased. They’re digging on the other side of our fence to put in a culvert. This pleases us, because then there won’t be that big, scary ditch there, and Fred can actually mow or weed-eat back there instead of leaving it so that it gets all ratty and overgrown. And on the plus side, the next time someone’s being an assmonkey on the road, loses control of his car, and swerves over toward our back yard, rather than hitting the ditch and flying up into the air, he’ll drive across the flat part where the ditch used to be, come through our fence, and probably still have enough momentum to keep going straight through our living room. Fun! (THAT would certainly be something worth doing an entry about, eh?) * * * I had to take Miz Poo to the vet’s yesterday. Her big, puffy, swollen lip, despite the shot of steroids a month ago, was back to it’s big, puffy, swollen state, requiring another shot. I really don’t like taking any of the cats to the vet, not only because they get so freaked out when I get out the carrier, but also because although our vet is absolutely awesome (after all, he saved Miz Poo’s life last year), I cannot understand about 3/4 of what the man says. To me, that’s a stressful thing. At one point he asked me how Fred was, and I just stared at him with a blank look on my face, and finally asked him to repeat what he’d said. It’s usually Fred’s job to take the cats to the vet (yes, he IS a saint), but he asked me to do this so we could go to the quarry for an hour or so. And by the time he got home, it was cloudy out and looked like it might rain, so we ended up not going. I haven’t been to the quarry in a week, damnit! Meester Boogers tries to help Miz Poo escape from the box. * * * Licklicklicklick. ]]>

Ten. Ten Books I’m Looking Forward to Reading: 1. The Time Traveler’s Wife 2. Dead Famous 3. Ten Big Ones 4. R is for Ricochet 5. The Enemy 6. Girl Boy Etc 7. The Narrows 8. My Sister’s Keeper 9. Running With Scissors 10. Bergdorf Blondes (even though, from all reports, Plum Sykes is a self-important bitch to the Nth degree). Ten Things (NOT people or cats) I Can’t Would Rather Not Live Without: 1. Blistex 2. Candles 3. Curel Lotion 4. Bath fizzies 5. Diet Coke 6. My Camera 7. My phone 8. My birthday present from Nance (I use it EVERY day, Nance!) 9. My slippers 10. My frickin’, stupid, goddamn piece of shit computer My Ten Favorite Pairs of Earrings: 1. The ones I bought for myself at Kohl’s yesterday to assauge the pain of that horrid fucking picture Fred took of me. 2. Why yes, I AM under the impression I’m still 10 years old! 3. I have no idea where these came from. 4. I bought these off eBay. from Kathy. 5. A birthday present from Fred several years ago. (Yes, real diamonds! Whee!) 6. Seven ninety-nine at Target! 7. One of my Christmas presents from Fred last year. It’s a cat, curled up sleeping (bad picture, I know) 8. My favorite Christmas earrings. (I bet you’re surprised they’re not big, gaudy Rudolph earrings with light-up noses, aren’t you?) 9. Another $7.99 special from Target. 10. I’ve had these earrings for at least ten years. I think they came from Avon. My Ten Favorite Smells: 1. Fred’s neck (shaddup) 2. Baby powder 3. Cats (as long as they aren’t wet) 4. Wildberry Pancakes-scented candles 5. Buttercream Yankee Candles 6. A fresh-squeezed lemon (Fred uses fresh lemon juice in his tea) 7. Sand & Sable perfume (it smells like the beach to me) 8. Ammonia (I use it to clean with) 9. My clothes after I’ve been swimming in the quarry (they smell like rainwater) 10. Freshly mown grass Ten Things I Really Really Fucking Hate Doing: 1. Taking the cat (any of them!) to the vet 2. Talking on the phone (99.99999% of the time) 3. Putting the dishes in the dishwasher away 4. Mopping the floors 5. Cleaning the litter box 6. Scrubbing the shower 7. Having my picture taken 8. Cleaning around the toilet (don’t GET me started) 9. Pulling up weeds 10. Cleaning out the frickin’ birdbath The Last Ten Sites I Visited: 1. Nance 2. The Usual Suspects 3. Amazon 4. Mo’s blog 5. RFCU 6. Mac’s old page 7. Mac’s new page 8. Netflix 9. Burnt Fuse 10. Dooce The Top Ten Movies in my Netflix Queue: 1. 50 First Dates 2. Secret Window 3. The Office 4. Cold Mountain 5. Pieces of April 6. The School of Rock 7. The Butterfly Effect 8. Ghost World 9. Crumb 10. Stevie (I finished watching Center Stage this morning. I think I may have to buy that movie, I love it so much.) The Ten Last Things I Ate: 1. Dannon white chocolate and raspberry yogurt 2. 2 tiny plums 3. 1 peach 4. Salad with cherry tomatoes and Kraft Lite 3-Cheese Ranch dressing 5. A honey-dijon chicken Lean Cuisine (nasty, nasty aftertaste) 6. An Egg McMuffin 7. 1 1/2 cups of Cheerios 8. 1 pc. of toast with raspberry jam 9. String cheese 10. 1 c. watermelon cubes The Last Ten Songs I Heard: 1. Good as I was to you – Lorrie Morgan 2. Displaced – Azure Ray 3. You were mine – Dixie Chicks 4. Save me – Aimee Mann 5. I’m moving on – Rascal Flatts 6. Anymore – Travis Tritt 7. Forgive – Rebecca Lynn Howard 8. Still within the sound of my voice – Glen Campbell 9. Brick – Ben Folds 10. Why – Annie Lennox (Can you tell I’m listening to my “sad songs” directory?) Ten Things I Should Be Doing Instead of Sitting on My Ass in Front of the Computer: 1. Answering email 2. Paying bills 3. Updating the GFY page 4. Putting up OFB archives 5. Cleaning the downstairs bathroom 6. Cleaning off my desk 7. Spying on the neighbors 8. Vacuuming the downstairs 9. Brushing Spot, who’s been shedding in a big way lately 10. Eating dinner (which I’m going to go do now. Night!)

* * * Mr. Photogenic.]]>

* * * When I got to the drugstore, I picked up the pictures I’d had developed (the ones from the disposable underwater camera we took to the quarry last week), paid for them, went out into the car, and flipped through them. And then I called Fred at work and said “Can you give me one good goddamn reason I shouldn’t come to your office and kill you right now?” Because there was this PICTURE that the bastard had taken when I wasn’t paying attention. I was under the water and had my mask on and my snorkel in my mouth. I was looking down at something. This picture was taken from the side and below, and it is the least flattering picture in EXISTENCE. After seeing this picture, no jury in the world would convict me of murder. In fact, they’d thank me for ridding the world of someone who would knowingly take such a horrific picture. I’d probably get some kind of Presidential award! And, no. You may NOT see the horrid picture. Just think of the worst picture of yourself that exists and multiply it by 20. Bastard.

* * * Some of the quarry pictures: Not the best scans, unfortunately. I think what we REALLY need is an underwater digital camera! I bet we could take some kick-ass pictures with one of these… * * * Regarding the leather patch kit, reader Lunalissa says this: i have worked in furniture for over 10 years, and there really is no leather patch kit that works well enough to completely avoid detection. but if you just want to fill in the cracks and holes, any kit from h0me d3pot or l0w3’s will work. the fast drying ones are not necessarily better: if you make a mistake or gunk it up, it dries faster! the key is looking at the blotter than comes with it and making sure it matchs the grain of the leather. I know that back in the early 80s when my father needed to patch his leather recliner, the kit he used did a horrible job of it. * * * I just got an Oahu DVD from my parents, and not ten minutes later my father called to check in and see how everything was doing. Apparently my mother’s having a blast over there, though they decided to walk up Diamond Head the other day and also thought it would be a good idea to WALK THE 4 1/2 MILES THERE before making the actual climb. “I don’t know if you want to do that,” my father said. “I wouldn’t mind doing that, but I DON’T WANT TO WALK 4 1/2 MILES FIRST!” I said. Heh. Also, they’ve checked out my hotel, and apparently it’s in the busiest part of Waikiki. Whoo! * * * Fred’s mother and stepfather have been in Memphis for the last few days, so we’ve been feeding their cat. He’s adorable and I think he’s a little confused, because he’s never been left alone before, poor baby. Yesterday, I took the camera over with me. He likes to lay in his bed and be brushed. REALLY likes it. We brought him a toy mouse to play with. We tend to always come bearing gifts when we’re visiting a kitty. * * * Deep thoughts.]]>

email me a logo, and as long as it’s not obnoxious (and maybe even if it is!) I’ll use it! I usually get a bunch when I put out the request for new logos, so if you don’t see your logo at the beginning of next month, be patient! Previous logos can be seen here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here. Aaaaand, we’ve reached critical mass, people. I’m no longer going to type target=”_blank” after each and every link. Why? Because it’s a pain in the ass. What does this mean for you? If you want the link to open in a new page, you’re going to have to right-click and choose “open in new window.” Sorry, folks. I still love you, you know. Because you rock!

* * * How did it happen that June is halfway over already? The spud’s going to be home in three weeks! And then a week later we’ll be leaving for Hawaii. Whee! I spent the morning cleaning the upstairs, including the spud’s bathroom. The shower and toilet were clean, but there was so much dust and crap on the floor that it made me shudder. She’s supposed to vacuum and mop her bathroom when she cleans it, but I strongly suspect that doesn’t happen. I Swiffered the hell out of the floor, then used a Swiffer duster on the baseboards. I probably need to get my ass in there and scrub the floor on my hands and knees to get it decent looking. We’ll see if that actually happens. I packed up her towels and tossed her shower curtain. It’s been three years since she had new towels or a new shower curtain, and the old ones are in pretty rough shape. I’ll go shopping later this week for new ones. Of course, after I’d tossed the shower curtain, I remembered that our shower wasn’t working and I needed to use HER shower. Rather than dig the shower curtain back out, I opted to shower without a curtain (there’s a hand-held shower attachment), and did a pretty good job of not getting water everywhere. That’s one tiny-ass shower she’s got, though. * * * Fred bought a couple of cherry tomato plants back in April or so, and planted them in big planters. Over the past few weeks they’ve been bearing fruit, and I swear to god, those are the BEST tomatoes I’ve ever had in my life. I’ve been a tomato hater from way back – and I still don’t like tomato CHUNKS in my spaghetti sauce, for the record – but I’ve actually been craving these little tomatoes, they’re so awesome. A little slice of heaven, is what they are. * * * Someone asked in my comments yesterday how many movies I have in my Netflix queue. Right now, I only have about seven eleven (I went to check, and added four more. Heh.), but I expect it’ll get longer as time goes by. Also, a couple of people asked how I’m liking The Beans of Egypt, Maine. I actually read it back in the late ’80s or early ’90s and liked it a lot. When I was at my parents’ house at Christmas I saw it on the bookcase and wanted to read it again, so asked my mother if I could take it. It holds up pretty well over time, I’ve found. I had no idea that there was a movie made from the book, though! I’ll have to see if I can find it. Trivia: Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love named their daughter (Frances Bean) after The Beans of Egypt, Maine. Or so he claimed back when she was born. He could have been kidding, I suppose. Also from my comments: Hey Robyn! Remember that letter you wrote to Playboy about their asinine comment about size 16 women? I just got this months issue (I too enjoy the articles, really) and they printed your letter! If you are indeed R.A. from Madison, Alabama 🙂 Too cool. That is definitely me. Now I can tell my mother that I’m in Playboy! Heh. I was just thinking… I’ve been reading your site for a few months, back before the Bean came into the picture. I’m not sure why this JUST NOW popped into my head. I used to have a gray kitty that looked very simliar to the Bean and he too had a messed up tail. It was crooked and looked like a lightning bolt. The vet told us his mother most likely bit it when he was born while trying to break the umbilical cord. Do you know what happened to Bean’s tail? I was just wondering. No, we have no idea why the Bean’s tail is so short and stubby, whether he was born that way, it happened at birth, or something happened when he was a stray. All I know is that when he’s startled and he puffs his stubby little tail up, I laugh until I choke. He’s such a character. What is the name of the leather patch kit, looked at the March entry and of course there’s the info about cats + leather but not the actual name of a kit you may have used. My friend Lara and her new Siamese Thai need to buy something to help their leather couch. HELP and of course many TIA. I’ve never actually used a leather patch kit – we’ve never had leather furniture – but if anyone knows, leave a comment, eh? * * * No quarry for us yesterday, and no quarry today either, it looks like. Damn weather! Where are our days and days of bright sunshine? Enough with the rain and overcast-ness! * * * A hundred years ago (or maybe last summer) someone told me of something I could do to prevent algae from growing in my cement birdbath. In the ensuing year, I have COMPLETELY forgotten, and the crap growing in the birdbath is nasty like you wouldn’t believe, and hard as hell to scrub out. Help? * * * “What?” ]]>

Reality Bites, Center Stage, and the first season of Coupling) should be on the way to me as I type. I feel so hip and with-it.

* * * We spent the weekend in a haze of 24. We received both Seasons 1 & 2 on Friday, watched the last four episodes of Season 1, watched five episodes of Season 2 on Saturday, and another five on Sunday. Such a good damn show. Surely I’m not the only one who thinks that Keifer Sutherland looks like a Doonesbury character brought to life? * * * I also finished reading Song of Susannah last night. God, I love this series, and I’m sad that there’s only one more book left. But I also can’t wait to read it! Have I mentioned that I have a big ol’ crush on Roland? Yeah. There’s me, being geeky again… * * * We went to the quarry again on Friday. I was pretty freaked out by a huge-ass catfish that seemed to be stalking me. Seriously, the fucking thing was about three feet away and followed me wherever I went. I’m sure he was just waiting until I wasn’t paying attention so that he could SUCK MY FACE OFF AND CHEW ON MY BRAIN. But I made Fred get between the fish and I, so the bastard was stymied. Ha! * * * Friday marked one year since Mr. Fancypants went missing. I can’t believe it’s been a whole year! In the past year I’ve probably had twenty dreams that he came home; I’d wake up excited that he was home and then realize it was only a dream. Honestly, I’m still hoping that another family found him and took him in. A girl can dream, right? Perhaps in honor of his memory, one of the cats brought in a bird (a sparrow we think) and left it in my bedroom for me to find when I woke up. Luckily it was under the table across the room from my bed, but I sense that one of these days I’m going to wake up with a dead bird IN BED WITH ME, and then I’ll never be able to sleep again. Damn cats. It’s sad that Meester Boogers never got to meet Mr. Fancypants. They’re so much alike in so many ways – laid-back, friendly, always willing to play, would love to snuggle up with the other cats – that they’d either be the best of friends or mortal enemies. Godspeed, Mr. Fancypants, you fancy little shitting-outside-the-box bastard. * * * Things people have searched on (using the “search this site” link over there in the sidebar): The Apprentice: Nope, never watched it. We’ll probably give Season 2 a try, though. Exercise journal: I took it down, and am journaling my exercise in a notebook with a pen. Weight loss picture and Before after pictures and After photos: Took ’em down, but they wouldn’t be on this site, in any case. They’d be over at OneFatBitchypoo, once I get the archives completely put up. Weight lost: 125 pounds and holding for three years now. Lots more to go, though! Weight loss tracking: That would also be over at OneFatBitchypoo, but I haven’t put the chart back up yet. Soon! Love Actually: Loved it! Buffalo chicken pizza: Nope, haven’t tried it yet. Don’t plan to in the near future, since it seems that almost everyone who tries it ends up in the bathroom for several hours! Honey mustard chicken and Red beans and rice and honey mustard dressing: There’s a recipe link over there in the sidebar which leads to my page of recipes. Which reminds me – I need to put up some new recipes I’ve tried recently! Cat urine cleaner and tubby pee cleaner and cat cleaner and cat pee carpet odor and cat pee cleaner: It’s called Axi-dent, and you can buy some here. Dyson: I’ve had it for six months, and I’m still loving it! Best vacuum cleaner I’ve ever had! Nance: She’s here. Jane: She’s here. For the record, if you look over on the sidebar under Other, you’ll see a Who I Read link. It’s woefully out of date but both Nance and Jane are on the list (though I have Nance listed as “Dysfunction Junction” rather than “Nance.” Which I should change. And I will! One of these days…) Liver: It’s fatty. I have to go back in six months to have my liver enyzmes tested again. New carpet: Nope, it’s not new, it’s the carpet that was here when we moved in three years ago. Leather patch: Uh? Nope, not a clue what you were looking for here. * * * For the record, I do keep meaning to put up a “recommended” page so that if you’re trying to find the cat pee odor remover you can just go there and see what it’s called and where to get it. But I keep meaning to do lots of things – Go Fuck Yourself hasn’t been updated since MARCH, for the love of god – so it’ll probably be a while before that happens. Yeah. It shouldn’t surprise you too much that I’m a procrastinator. * * * Look what my sister found at my parents’ house, scanned, and sent me: Quite the artiste, wasn’t I? * * * Oh, da Poo. ]]>