Category: Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#2:

Bean Swag

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

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

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

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

new logo up top, there. Someone mentioned in my comments yesterday (or maybe the day before) that the logo I had up there wasn’t very Holiday-ish. She was right, of course, and when I got an email from the adorable and talented (also funny!) Kat, letting me know that she’d designed some buttons for Bitchypoo, among other sites (you can see them in the sidebar down near the bottom under “Link me”) and wanted to know if there was anything else graphic-y I needed, I said “You know, I could use a Christmas-y logo…” and lickety-split, it was done! That’s not the final version – there’ll be a cat in the final version – but I like it so much that I wanted to put it up immediately. (Note: While I was working on this entry, I got the final version from her. Whee! It makes me want to tie a ribbon around the Bean’s tail…) The logo that Desi created will become January’s logo. Unless, of course, one of you wants to create a birthday-inspired graphic for January (in honor of it being my birth-month and all), in which case it would become February’s! Big, big thanks to the lovely (and talented! And funny!) Kat for somehow reading my mind and knowing exactly what I wanted when I didn’t even know. Also, if anyone else wants to design a Bitchypoo button for linking, go for it. I’ll stick it in the sidebar with the others. Am I bossy, or what? “Design me this! Design me that!” Oh, and I don’t know how many of you ever visit the front Bitchypoo page (I suspect the majority of you come directly to the journal page), but I put the Santa Tubby picture up there, for you crazy Tubby lovers, who’d like to go admire it.

* * * Speaking of my birthday, this morning as I was getting dressed, I thought to myself “Wow. I can’t believe I’m going to be 37 in a little over a month!” I marveled over that fact for at least five minutes before I realized that I am, in fact, NOT going to be 37. I’m going to be 36. When I was a kid and adults would have to stop and think about how old they were, I would think they were crazy. How could they NOT know?? Now I get it. * * * At our grocery store, right around Thanksgiving, they put a couple of shelf units out near the checkout lanes. On the shelves, they put brown paper bags with canned food items in them, and a receipt on the front of the bag telling you how much the items in that bag cost. The idea is that you buy a bag or two and then the food gets donated to a local food bank. Once the shelves go up, I usually buy two or three of them each time I visit the grocery store (one year Fred bought all of the bags on all of the shelves, and the grocery store employees looked at him like he was a rock star). Yesterday I decided to grab four of the bags, and as I grabbed the fourth to put it in my cart the staple holding the top of the bag closed ripped a small gash in my thumb. And I’m SURE I’m going to develop a staph infection and my thumb will blow up to the size of my head and I’ll be laying in the hospital in a staph-induced coma at Christmas time, and is THIS how you repay me, Karma gods? I try to help out a little and you give me a painful gash in my thumb that keeps rubbing on things and making me hurt? Hmph. * * * The carpet guys came yesterday to see what they could do about the Corner of Hell in the master bedroom. They’d told Fred that they could clean the carpet, but once they were in the bedroom and pulled the carpet up to see what was going on, and the fucking STENCH filled the bedroom, they gagged and said “Yeah, let’s just cut this carpet out, shall we?” So they cut up the carpet and padding and bagged it up and took it outside, and I went up to check it out. The stink about knocked me over, and I became bitter, thinking “Oh LOVELY! I get to fucking marinate in this stink all night long, and the smell will get into EVERYTHING, and I’ll be ONE OF THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WALKS AROUND SMELLING LIKE CAT PEE WITHOUT KNOWING IT!” But one of the carpet guys said to Fred “I’ll be right back. I’ll get something to beat the smell down while the subfloor is drying over the next few days.” And he went out to the van and got something and he sprayed it on the subfloor, and the smell of cat pee was INSTANTLY gone. In it’s place was the pleasant and refreshing smell of fruity berries. (Which in the future, I am sure, will forever be linked in my mind with the smell of cat pee.) So the subfloor needs to dry for a few days and then they’re going to come seal the floor with polyurethane, then it’ll dry for a few more days, and then they’re going to cut carpet out of our closet to put in that corner and replace the carpet in the closet with a similar color, and hopefully this will all become a bad dream. A girl can hope… * * * Did I ever put this picture up? I have no idea. This picture cracks me up because Spanky’s got a big drop of water on his nose. The boy can’t seem to drink water without splashing some up on his nose. I was cold last night, so we turned on the fire. That made Spot, the heat-seeking kitty, very happy. ]]>

I don’t get a vote. Hmph.

* * * So after all that hoo-ha about the spud and what she should wear to Homecoming and the insulting of my perfectly good choice, I recall that I never said anything else about it. After Fred checked with the school to see what kids wear to Homecoming these days and was told it was very casual, the spud decided to wear a denim skirt and striped shirt that she likes. When we dropped her off, guess what? About half the kids were in prom gear, 1/4 were in nice dresses, and the rest were dressed very casually. She didn’t have much fun because not many of her friends went, but we did get a picture out of the deal. Her date (“But not a DATE date!”) was more dressed-up than she. Heh. Definitely her mother’s daughter. * * * Where I’ve been today: the grocery store, the movie store, the post office, Wal-Mart, The Dollar Tree, Hallmark, and Target. I left the house at 10:00 and wasn’t home again until almost 2. My feet hurt like a motherfucker. The Dollar Tree, if you are unfortunate enough to live in a world where there is no dollar store, fucking ROCKS. I got four Christmas mugs and a picture frame for $5.40. The mugs are for gifts (but not for anyone who reads this. Heh.), and when the spud and I were looking at mugs in Wal-Mart last week, the spud kept pointing out mugs that cost seven and eight dollars apiece. My ASS. The mugs I got at The Dollar Tree are cute enough, in my opinion. I went to Target to look for pants for my niece. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the little girls’ section of the store that I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place. I picked up pants in her size and thought “That canNOT be right!” But she’s a tiny little thing and when I held the pants about where they’d be if she was standing in front of me, I decided they were right. Or so I hope. (I’ll be including the gift receipt with that present in case they don’t fit or she doesn’t like them, Kate!) * * * When I went to the mall last week, I picked up some Wallflowers refills (Wallflowers are those things you plug into the wall and they make the room smell good, for those of you who didn’t know). One of the scents was “Cinnamon Vanilla”. When I got home I plugged it in. Later that day after he took a bath (he often takes baths when he gets home from work), Fred said “What godawful thing have you sprayed or plugged in in the bathroom to attempt to make it smell good?” It appears he doesn’t care for the Cinnamon Vanilla. Luckily, he doesn’t get a vote, and every time I go into the bathroom, I like the scent more and more. Our towels hang over the Wallflower and the scent rises and makes our towels smell like Cinnamon Vanilla, too. I have no point, I guess, except that Cinnamon Vanilla smells pretty damn fine. But Fred doesn’t like it. * * * I saw a real live Princess this afternoon when I was pulling out of the Target parking lot. Driving toward me was a Pepto-Bism0l pink Mustang. Across the top of the windshield it said “Ash-o-leigh” and the front license plate was airbrushed and said “D’nt Hate.” In the car were two teenaged blond girls. One of them was talking on a cell phone. Definitely Princesses. * * * The ladybugs must be in the process of migrating or something. This afternoon Spot politely asked to go outside, and since he’s such a sweet little gentleman, I complied and opened the back door. “Please?” I left the door open for about 45 minutes, but it’s been so long since he’s been out roaming in the back yard that I think he forgot how loud it can be, with the traffic on the other side of the fence going by, and it scared him. He sniffed around the back door but never actually went outside, though Miz Poo went out and sat on the patio for a little while. When I started to get cold, I went to shut the door, and there were about 15 ladybugs crawling around on the door frame and up the wall. I shooed some of them outside but couldn’t reach them all. I figure they can just join that cluster of three ladybugs hibernating in a corner of the living room ceiling. * * * I am uncertain what The Bean is doing, exactly, but he sure looks like he’s up to no good. ]]>

logo for December – this one created by the lovely and talented Desi. Thanks, Desi!

* * * We went to see Jesus Christ, Superstar yesterday in Huntsville. It was absolutely awesome. We were in front row seats, so close we could smell the sweat rolling off Jesus while he died on the cross. Fabulous, fabulous show. And the apostles were very pretty and had amazing bodies, so that was a definite plus. Judas rocked the house and so did Mary Magdalene for that matter. I didn’t much care for Jesus at first; his voice made my ears hurt. He had the look down right – Fred said he looked like a BeeGee – but I hated his voice. I liked him a little more in the second half – “Why, because he died?” Fred said – but who goes to see Jesus Christ, Superstar for Jesus, anyway? Not me. I was there for Judas and Mary and a little bit of Simon. The show was marred toward the end after Judas sang Superstar and the fucknuts sitting directly behind us had to have a fucking discussion about what exactly was going on. Which I UNDERSTAND, because if you’ve never seen the show it might be a tad confusing to have Judas out rockin’ the house after he’s killed himself. But damn people, just because YOU don’t know what’s going on doesn’t mean no one ELSE does. Fuckers. The conversation continued while Jesus was up on the cross dying, and I wanted to turn around and scream “IT’S JESUS DYING ON THE CROSS! HOW CAN THAT POSSIBLY BE CONFUSING YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS?” But I didn’t. That’s definitely my favorite show of anything we’ve seen so far. We’re going to see Les Miserables in May and I can’t WAIT. Shows I’ve never seen but want to: Grease, Joseph, Rent. The only problem with going to see a show is that for the three days following, all I can think of are the songs from the show, and it slowly drives me crazy to think “Oh I need to balance the checkbook… hmm… Every time I look at you I don’t understand – Why you let the things you did get so out of hand. You’d have managed better if you’d had a plan. Why’d you choose such a backward time in such a strange land? If you’d come today you could have reached the whole naaaaaation. Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication..*.” and the next thing you know I’m dancing the Bean across the room inviting him to join in. *Lyrics done by memory. They may or may not be correct. * * * Pet store pictures are here. The giveaway page is back! Free stuff, here. That page will be updated every Friday for at least the next few weeks. And while I’m sharing links, in honor of the holiday season, you can buy a Tubby ornament here. If anyone’s interested in buying that Tubby Santa picture on a t-shirt, let me know and I’ll switch the pictures so you can do so. Have I mentioned that Tubby Loot would make a faaaaaaaaaabulous Christmas gift? Only for those crazy Tubby lovers though, I guess. As always, the price set is base price (what Cafepress charges) plus $1, and any proceeds will go to the no-kill cat shelter for which I volunteer. You can also buy a 2004 calendar featuring the And3rson Kitties . I was putting a calendar together as a Christmas present for the spud and thought some of you out there might be interested. Disclaimer: I’ve ordered, but not received, the calendar, so I have no idea how it looks in person. Cafepress stuff is usually fairly good, though. * * * Speaking of calendars and such, I decided to put a calendar together for my parents of various pictures of their grandkids. I went through my vacation pictures from last summer in Maine, and I must say this: I sure do tend to take FIFTEEN THOUSAND FUCKING PICTURES OF THE EXACT SAME THING. Oh look, here’s Brian. And here’s Brian again in the exact same pose. And again. And again. AND YET AGAIN. It was tough coming up with 12 good pictures to use, believe you me. (And no, Debbie, Kate and Tracy – I didn’t use any pictures of y’all. I had some good pictures, but I knew I’d be quartered and drawn if I did such a thing so I didn’t. Hmph.) * * * Did I mention that I spent part of Saturday installing Windows 2000 on my computer? Fred’s hoping like hell that it will stop my computer from locking up 15 times a day. I’m not holding my breath. * * * The Bean goes on the attack, jumping on Tubby to clean behind his ears. Stanley, getting high off the (still-unplanted) lily bulbs. Miz Poo looks on disapprovingly.]]>

Sweet Potato Casserole, and that’s no lie. I used chopped walnuts instead of pecans this time, and it was damn yummy.

* * * So we went to Fred’s sister’s house for Thanksgiving, bringing sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, rolls, and a lemon pound cake. Fred’s mother and stepfather were there, and so was his sister’s boyfriend. I’d been a little worried about meeting her boyfriend, because he’s French, and when someone has a thick accent – as I’ve mentioned before – and I can’t understand what they’re saying, I always feel like a complete stupid American idiot. But I was able to understand him – the funny thing with listening to people with accents is that the more you listen to them, the easier it is to understand – and he was very nice. We were supposed to eat at noon, but ended up eating at one, right about the time I was ready to gnaw off my arm since I hadn’t eaten breakfast. On the table: turkey, smoked ham, rolls, devilled eggs, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, giblet gravy, oyster dressing, cornbread dressing, and cranberry sauce. For dessert, pumpkin pie and Fred’s awesome lemon pound cake. After we finished eating and Fred was in the kitchen washing all the dishes by hand*, Fred’s nephew and niece and her boyfriend showed up. After a bit of chatting, as I was eyeing the clock and wondering how soon we could go home and take a nap, Fred pointed out that we’d brought the game Trivial Pursuit with us. “Let’s play a game!” he suggested, and I could have smacked him. But I agreed to play, and we set up at the kitchen table. Instead of pairing off in teams as would be the normal thing to do, all 5 of us each got our own game piece, and we spend the next two hours playing the game. I did my best to not fall asleep, and then Fred suggested that the three of them (his nephew, niece and her boyfriend) make up one team and he and I would make up the other. We played until they had all their pieces, and then finally Fred and I gave up the game, declared them the winners, and ran for the front door with our leftovers. Did I mention that Fred’s stepfather brought oyster dressing? The best oyster dressing in the whole wide world? And also a smoked ham that was so moist and tender I wanted to marry it? He’s from Louisiana and makes super-southern cajun food that makes you cry it’s so damn good. Lordy but I love Thanksgiving. * While Fred was showing off his mad cleaning skillz in the kitchen, his sister looked at me and said “Is he like this at home?” “No,” I said, remembering the many times I’d had to yell at he and the spud to put their dishes in the dishwasher when they were done eating breakfast or lunch. Fred’s sister nodded. “That’s what I figured.” * * * This morning the spud and I were on the road at 7:30, on our way to the Examiner’s Office so that she could take the written test for her learner’s permit. The traffic around Madison Square Mall was horrid – at not even 8:00, there were people who had to park on the GRASS – but once we got past the mall the traffic was pretty light. We got to the Examiner’s Office two minutes before 8:00, and guess what? That’s right, the fucking place was closed in observance of Thanksgiving. A STATE office and it was closed! Bastards. So I told the spud we’d try again when she got off for Christmas vacation and we went out to breakfast at IHOP. IHOP was packed, but we only had to wait about 10 minutes to be seated. I got my pancake jones satisfied (it only comes up about once a year) and then we had to run to Fred’s office (Fred took today off) because his computer shit the bed (Hi Shannon!) and he needed a Windows 2000 disk. We fought our way back through the mall traffic and the bastards trying to get into the left lane to turn into Best Buy, picked up the disk, fought our way AGAIN through the mall/ Best Buy traffic, and made it home about two hours after we’d left. May I just take a second to note that y’all who go shopping the day after Thanksgiving are some CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS indeed. * * * So I was going through the video tape the other day to see what I had in the way of cat movies that I could put up to entertain y’all. I came across the part of the tape where Fred and I were out in the back yard with the Bean on a leash. I had just started taping when the Bean did his big, goofy leaping-run across the yard. I didn’t catch it on tape, though, because the camera was set on super-zoom, and I was trying to figure out what was going on. After the Bean did his big running-leap, you can clearly hear me say “Oh SHIIIIIT, I didn’t get it!” So I made a wav, for your listening pleasure. Mock away. Do I sound heartbroken, or what? Maybe one of these days I’ll make a wav of myself REALLY swearing. Heh. * * * Friday Five! 1. Do you like to shop? Why or why not? I like the act of shopping, but I loathe the annoying motherfuckers who get in my way when I’m shopping. 2. What was the last thing you purchased? A gift card to Applebee’s for my parents for Christmas. Before that, some Matrix hair crap that is VERY GODDAMN EXPENSIVE JANE. Am I still dead to you? Oh no, wait. I bought an eye makeup kit this morning at the grocery store for $2.99, because I only have dark gray eyeshadow, and I’d like to experiment with eyeshadow on one of the three days a year I wear makeup. 3. Do you prefer shopping online or at an actual store? Why? Online, online, online. Always online. Because I don’t have to get up off my ass to do it, and there are no annoying people standing in my way and blocking the aisle. (Though sometimes there are annoying people sitting across the room singing showtunes) 4. Did you get an allowance as a child? How much was it? I did, but I can’t for the life of me remember how much. I think it depended on my age. The spud gets $10 a week, and I know it wasn’t anything near that much. 5. What was the last thing you regret purchasing? Some Dansko clogs, because they hurt the top of my feet. I need to exchange them for a different pair. * * * Spot would like all you Tubby-lovers to bite him.]]>