Category: Life

I can’t even imagine how much time and painstaking effort this took, and what’s even more? It was filled with REALLY great-smelling herbal tea baths and soaps! Good LORD do I love Von. I emailed you Von, but I’ll say it again – thank you SO much! While I’m thinking of people who’ve sent me things, I’d like to take a second (I’m not sure if I mentioned it when I got it) to say thanks to reader Kelly, who sent me Living at the Edge of the World. I finished reading it last night, and liked it a great deal (and looky here – Joe Bob Briggs liked the book, too! He also does a better review of it than I ever could.) The funny thing with books about real people is that you tend to get somewhat invested in their lives (Hey! Kind of like online journals, eh?) and once the book ends, you wish you knew where they were and how they were doing. I spent some time searching for information on Tina S., but there’s not really anything online about her that isn’t connected to the book. Wherever she is, I hope her life is going well.

* * * 1. What was the first band you saw in concert? The first concert I ever went to was Shaun Cassidy (hee!), but the first band I saw in concert would be Judas Priest and Great White, when I was a Freshman or Sophomore in high school. Can you believe Fred’s never been to a concert? 2. Who is your favorite artist/ band now? I can’t really say that I have a favorite; I like a wide variety, though I’d say my favorites include Del Amitri, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Jude Cole, Natalie Merchant, and Olivia Newton-John. I call it “cheese rock.” 3. What’s your favorite song? At the moment, “Kiss and Say Goodbye” by The Manhattans. Favorite overall would be Pearl Jam’s “Black”. 4. If you could play any instrument, what would it be? Guitar, I suppose. I can’t actually even fathom the possibility of having any kind of musical talent, though. 5. If you could meet any musical icon (past or present), who would it be and why? Elvis, of course. I’m not a big fan or anything, but it would be incredible to meet the man behind the legend. * * * Questions, you’ve got questions! I’ve got answers. Reader Susan asks: You said you like to cross stitch, what are you currently cross stitching? And how much did you get for the cross stitch you sold on Ebay? Oddly, I’ve been cross-stitching Christmas ornaments. During the holidays, anytime I went into a craft store, I’d buy a couple of small ornament kits. I ended up with a huge amount of them, and so for the past few months I’ve been working on getting them done. I haven’t gotten a lot done, because I don’t cross-stitch all the time, but every now and then I’ll get the yen to have something to do while watching TV, so I’ll grab another one to work on. I like doing them, because they’re small and fairly quick to do, and when I’m done, I toss the finished ornament in a box and go on to the next one. I don’t know what I’m going to do with them all, probably give ’em away in sets of three or four. Here’s a picture of what I’ve done so far: I got, I think, $30 for the cross-stitch picture I put on eBay. I could be wrong, it could be more, but that’s the number sticking in my head. Reader Dawn asks: Why don’t you have either a guestbook or a comment section (like you have over at OFB)? I always wondered this. I always like signing guestbooks or comment sections. That’s actually a fairly timely question. The only reason I don’t have a comment section is because I haven’t installed (or rather, had Fred install) Movable Type on this site. I’m shooting for having it up and running on May 1st, which will include a comments section. I prefer comments to a guestbook only because I’ve found that it’s easier to figure out what people are referring to if the comments they leave are at the end of the entries they’re commenting about. Is that a completely convoluted paragraph right there, or what? So in any case, the look will be changing soon, and y’all can leave comments to your heart’s content. Reader Cindy asks: You wrote about wanting to watch the Jacko/Martin Bashir interview but I don’t recall you saying that you had watched the tape. I just wondered what you thought about it afterwards. I did watch the tape, and while I thought that Michael Jackson only came across as a bit odd in the first part of the interview, he came across as a total whack-job in the rest. I don’t know if he’s a child molester – I’m leaning toward yes – but I think his insistence on continuing to have children spend the night at his house and in his room after those allegations and the lawsuit, show either that he thinks he’s untouchable, or he has no sense of self-preservation. Any reasonable person who’d gone through that would make a point of never being alone with a child again. The whole bit showing him with his children was more disturbing than I’d expected. They’re clearly possessions to him, and I have a feeling we’ll be lining up to buy copies of Jacko: My father the nutball in 18 years or so. Overall, though, I find it amazing that Michael Jackson would so completely open up his life to Martin Bashir; I’d never in a million years let a reporter into my life that way (though of course, I hope my life will forever be such that a reporter would never be interested!). It shows a shocking lack of common sense. On the other hand, I don’t think Martin Bashir is lily-white in this whole thing, either. Lulling someone into your confidence so they’ll open their life to you is a fairly shitty thing to do. But the media in all it’s forms has never shown itself to be trustworthy in any way, and I think Michael Jackson would have been better off keeping that in mind. Have a burning question you’d like answered? Ask!]]>

* * * I continue to be unhappy with that bitch, Mother Nature. The winter clothes, that I put away last week? I had to dig a fleece shirt out, because with the temperature outside hanging at 40 degrees, spring and summer clothes aren’t cutting it. Bah! And I wouldn’t mind seeing some damn sunshine, damnit!

* * * A conversation that did NOT take place in the And3rson household, because marking up legal currency is against the law. NotFred: NotBessie, are you marking all our money with a red “Where’s George?” stamp? NotMe: Yep. NotFred: NotBeeeeessie! That’s illegal! NotMe: Prove I did it. NotFred: (after a long pause) But you just said you did! NotMe: Prove it. Heh. * * * The spud got her progress report yesterday, and so far for this quarter she’s got straight As. She always gets good grades, but there’s usually a couple of Bs in there as well. Go, spud! The thing about the spud is that she’s not a procrastinator when it comes to homework. She’s got an MLA-style paper due in a few weeks, and instead of putting it off ’til the last minute (like her mother), she’s been hard at work ever since she got the assignment. * * * April asks: When something funny happens between you and Fred, do either of you ask that it NOT make it to either journal? It’s actually somewhat rare that either of us does that – the only thing that really comes to mind is that I recently told Fred he wasn’t allowed to write any more “Robyn farts” entries, though I did let him circumvent it in his most recent entry. What happens more often is that something funny or odd will happen, and he’ll call dibs on the story. In fact, that happens a lot, though sometimes he’ll call dibs and then decide later that he’s not interested in writing about it. If I’m writing something about him that’s potentially embarrassing, I’ll ask him to read it before I post it in case he wants me to change anything – though I don’t think he’s ever actually wanted me to – and vice versa. (back to the FAQ page) * * * I have a few questions that aren’t really frequently asked, but I thought I’d answer them anyway, since they’re interesting questions. Say asked: Are you planning on getting any more kitties? If so (or not) why (or why not). There are, at this point, no plans to get any more kitties. We’re pretty much on the verge already of being crazy cat people, and I think that any more cats would put us firmly into that category. It’s hard to go to the pet store and see so many great cats and never be able to bring them home, but I’m afraid that if I showed up at home with another kitty, I’d find myself divorced, on the street, living in a cardboard carton with Miz Poo. I’d have to change the journal name to Homeless Bitchypoo, but you KNOW I’d still update every day. We like to watch Animal Precinct and Animal Cops when there’s nothing else on, and a few days ago there was a show where the Animal Cops had to go to this woman’s house. The woman, probably in her 50s if not older, was living in absolute filth, cats everywhere, shitting in the corners of the room. And you just KNOW that there was a point when the woman had a normal number of cats (although I guess 5 cats is probably over the “normal number” line) and thought “Oh, I’ll just save one more… ” Plus, we have a pretty good mix of cats, they get along fairly well, though every now and then one of them decides that another one needs an ass-kicking. And Jennifer asks: Do you guys have friends? You never seem to talk about going out with friends, etc, so I wondered if you were home-bodies like me and mine? We have friends, but not really anyone we go out with, because we don’t really like to go out much. We’re very much homebodies, and a perfect day to us is hanging around the house, watching a movie, messing around on the computers, or hanging out in the back yard watching the cats and reading. We have a very low-key life, which is how we like it, and even the occasional yen to get out of the house is satisfied by a run to the store or a bike ride. ]]>

* * * I finally watched last week’s episode of The Bachelor last night. Andrew Firestone sure is easier on the eyes than Aaron was, isn’t he? The group of bachelorettes sure seem a lot younger this time around. My favorite part of the rose ceremony was watching one of the (few!) brunettes – I think it was Liz, but I’m not positive – give looks of hatred to all the girls who got roses. A girl would walk by her with a rose, and she’d look them up and down, and then glare daggers at her. What kills me is that these girls spent ONE EVENING with the bachelor, and if they didn’t get a rose, they were in tears. Surely they weren’t that invested in the guy, for crying out loud? I guess it was mostly the blow to the ego, rather than getting attached to the Bachelor, but still. And speaking of television shows, did Ruben kick ass, or what? I LOVE THAT SONG, and even let out a little shriek when he started singing it. In fact, I’m going to go see if it’s available on Grokster yet right now. Hm, doesn’t seem to be out there yet. I guess I’ll have to be happy with The Manhattans’ version for now. God, I love that song.

* * * Hey, know what I haven’t done in a while? Answered reader questions – and I still have plenty to answer! Reader Patty asks: Has anyone in your real life spoken about your journal/ site/ etc.? And Reader C asks: Does your daughter or anyone in your family (mother, sister etc) read your journal? The only person I know in real life that I’m certain reads my journal – aside from Fred – is my sister, Debbie. No one else, that I’m aware of, knows that this journal exists. Fred’s stepsister found his site, and there are links from his site to this one, so it’s possible that his stepsister and, in fact, his whole family reads this journal, but if they do, I don’t know about it. And if they are reading, I’d prefer to continue not knowing about it. Reader Judy asks: When you moved to Alabama did you experience a great deal of culture shock when you moved into the deep south? Was it like dropping out of the sky into Oz? Or vice versa? I actually have a funny story about my move to Alabama. The spud and I drove from Rhode Island to Alabama over the course of two days. At the end of the first day, we stopped at a motel in the hills of Tennessee. I went in to get a room, and the desk clerk had the thickest southern accent that I have, to this day, ever heard, and I couldn’t understand a word that was coming out of her mouth. I had to ask her to repeat everything she said not once, not twice, but THREE times. When we were finally in our room, I sat on the bed and thought to myself “What the FUCK have I gotten myself into? I’m never going to understand a word anyone says to me in Alabama, it’s going to be like living in a foreign country, I’m never going to be able to get a job, and everyone’s going to think I’m an idiot!” Near tears, I called Fred, who reminded me that I was in a very rural part of Tennessee, that Huntsville is a fairly large city, and that the people who live in the area don’t have accents quite that thick. And he was right – every now and then I’ll have a problem understanding what someone’s saying to me, but it rarely happens. Of course, some of you would say that that’s because I’ve developed my own southern accent, but y’all would be big LIARS. I honestly expected that the stereotypical southern women – you know, big hair, made up to within an inch of their life – would be the kind of women I’d see all over the place. And while I’ll see one every now and then, it’s not the norm, really. I think it’s probable that if I’d moved to a more rural town, things would be a lot more different, but there are so many people who live in this area that are from other places, that it’s more diverse than you would expect living in the south to be. Have a burning question you’d like answered? Let me know. * * * Every once in a while, I check my stats for pico search, to see what y’all are searching for within my site. After not checking for quite a while, I looked at the stats yesterday. What’s the number one thing people search my site for? Athena. What’s up with that? I had 75 searches on Athena. Second on the list was Bullshit, with 6 searches. (Yes, 6. Not 60, but 6.) The question, I guess, is whether it’s 75 different people looking for Athena, or one person looking 75 times. It’s really enough to make a girl curious, y’know.]]>

* * * Several houses up the street is a nice, unassuming little house. Surrounding this lovely home is a yard, of course. And the grass in this yard is still dormant and has not yet started growing this year. But all over the yard for the past month or so, in huge, huge clumps, were growing wild onions. It had gotten so bad that I kept feeling the urge to grab my scissors and chop down the onions. But what if they were deliberately letting them grow? What if they had plans for those onions? Better to leave them alone, I supposed, even if they were knee-high. Finally, last Friday, they cut down their onions with their lawnmower, and then apparently did something to their back yard, because the next time I drove by, there were at least 15 trash bags waiting by the curb to be picked up by the people who do that. Is it awful that I don’t have a clue who picks up yard clippings and leaves? All I know is, you bag your clippings and leaves and leave them by the street, and sooner or later they get picked up. Like magic! Anyway, they cut their onions and did something to their back yard (unless there are bodies in those bags, in which case I’ll be the redneck-looking woman on the news saying “But they were so nice and quiet! Kept to themselves! Never had a problem with them!”), and today – Tuesday – I drove by, and the damn onions are 6 inches high already. Damn onions.

* * * Fred planted a couple of tomato plants, a strawberry plant, and a jalapeno plant yesterday. I’m interested to see how it goes, since he planted in the flower bed the cats seem to think of as theirs. I’d love it if the tomato plants flourished and we could make our own salsa this summer. I mean, we can make our own salsa whether we grow our own tomatoes or not, but it’ll be cool if we could use tomatoes we’ve grown ourselves. We’ll see. * * * Poor Tubby. Trying to fit his portly butt in the tiny little cat bed. I actually thought about getting the bigger size instead of this one, but this one was cheaper, and I had no idea whether any of the cats would actually be all that interested in it, so I opted for the smaller, cheaper one. And it turns out that they’re ALL interested in it. So I went back to the pet store today and bought a bigger one. The smaller one is currently on the couch with Miz Poo curled up in it but I think I’m going to move that to my desk. Or maybe I’ll just leave it on the couch, I don’t know. I bought another one (a larger one) to replace the nasty-ass pillow on the trunk under the window in the master bedroom, and Spanky freaked out a tad, because new things always freak him out. And then he curled up for a snooze. Spot and Tubby eyed Spanky jealously before sleep overtook them, as it always does. * * * I don’t remember if I mentioned it last week or not, but Fancypants recently peed in the corner of the computer room, behind the chair. He also peed on the chair itself at some point, and I’ve been all but ready to send him packing (of course I wouldn’t actually, but it calms me down to think I could). We treated the area with Nature’s Miracle and sprayed some Feli-Way (hee!) in the area as well. All seemed to be going well, until yesterday morning. Not long after I took the picture of Tubby squeezing his ass in the little sheepskin bed, I walked into the computer room to see him, ass toward the wall, sniffing around. “Tubby,” I said. “What are you doing?” And then I saw what he was doing. THE FUCKER WAS PEEING AGAINST THE WALL. I yelled at him and chased him out of the room. When I got a chance to think about it, I couldn’t decide whether I felt bad or not, because all along we’ve been blaming Fancypants for peeing in the corner of the room and on the chair, and I’ve been thinking hateful thoughts about Fancypants, when it was apparently Tubby’s fault all along. Or maybe they’ve been working together “You pee on the chair, I’ll get the corner!” So I bought a huge container of Nature’s Miracle, and we’re going to saturate the area and hope that helps with the smell, because I DO NOT want to be one of those crazy cat people whose house smells like cat pee all the time, it’s bad enough that sometimes if you go upstairs directly after someone’s used the litter box and not covered their pile o’ poo, it reeks. And for the record, no. I don’t think Tubby has a bladder infection, because every now and then he feels compelled to pee on something and then pees on it, and then doesn’t do it for a long enough time that we forget it’s him that does it. Damn cats.]]>

an entry that pretty much describes my reaction to Bullshit! Having seen myself on the big screen (why must we have a big screen TV? Why?), I will say only this: Now I know why, when the camera and sound guy were setting up and I chirped “Oh, is this the camera that’s going to make me look like Ashley Judd?”, everyone laughed so hard.

* * * I actually – are you ready for this? – left the house yesterday! It’s a truly amazing thing, I know, but it does happen every once in a blue moon. The spud and I left the house a little after noon, went to the grocery store (I needed fruit), Staples (padded envelopes for mailing tapes), the pet store (wild bird seed, and I picked up a fuzzy bed for the cats because god knows they don’t have enough beds strewn throughout the house to sleep on), Target (a covered trash can to keep the 60 pounds of bird seed in) and then stopped at Kohl’s because the spud wants platform-type shoes that look like this, only not quite so high. Short boots are okay too, she informs me, but she only wants them in black, no brown. There were short boots similar to the shoes above at Kohl’s, but she didn’t like how high they were – too bad, because they were 80% off! – and so I guess we’ll be looking for them another day. I left the house on a Sunday for an hour and a half, and the earth didn’t crack open. Whaddya know about that. * * * I just finished Every Breath You Take, by Ann Rule. In fact I stayed up until 1 to finish it, and of course had a dream that I was getting the death penalty. I like Ann Rule books for the most part, but what I don’t like is the fact that she always tells you not only what their childhood was like, but also what their parents’ childhood was like, and in some cases, what their grandparents’ childhood was like, and it can get a tad confusing. * * * Spot, randomly hanging out on the mantel for no apparent reason. Miz Poo, looking like Kilroy. That’s the spud’s leg she’s peeking over, as you can see in the picture below. And some Poo porn for Frankie! Look at that belly… Miz Poo was laying on the couch hanging out the other night, and Fred pushed her back to look at her stomach. Miz Poo, being the obliging sort, just stayed there in case anyone else wanted to get an eyefull. Poor Miz Poo and her nekkid belly! It’s amazing how slowly cat fur grows, isn’t it? With all the shedding they do, you’d think it grew at a rate of an inch a minute. Don’t they look like such nice boys? Two minutes before I took this picture, they were smacking the shit out of each other.]]>

* * * So last night right before bed, I went to the Showtime page for Penn and Teller’s Bullshit!, and they had updated it since last I looked. On the main page, where there had been a picture illustrating last week’s topic (ESP), was a picture of Fred and I, standing in the back yard, our “fat” pants held up in front of us, and we were squinting into the sun. During our experience taping our part in Bullshit!, one of the goofy things we had to do was go out into the backyard, stand so we were staring into the sun, and take turns saying “Hi! I’m Fred And3rson!” “And I’m Robyn And3rson!” “And together we’ve lost 300 pounds!” Sometimes Fred would say his name first, sometimes I’d say mine first. Sometimes we’d say the part about losing 300 pounds together, sometimes just one of us would say it. Over and over and OVER again. The sun wasn’t bothering Fred’s eyes, but I’m fairly certain I have holes in my retinas. As time passed, my eyes hurt more and more until I was squinting so much you could barely see that I had eyeballs, and still “One more take! Just one more!” Producers are liars, is what they are. Anyway, they took a picture from one of those many takes, and put it on the main page.

You will note that I already have 100 less chins than in the promo. And DAMN am I white. I also look a little constipated, but that’s just because the sun was glaring through my eyes and eating into my brain. * * * And speaking of Bullshit! and the Showtime page, amongst the list of “experts” they have listed – in fact, #1 on the list of experts, since they do them alphabetically – would be, yes, me. They linked to my weight loss website. I’ve been checking my stats every couple of hours to see how many referrals I’m getting from that page. I’d say I’ve gotten less than 100 so far, and none of them seem to be staying around for long. Which makes all grumpy and mutter to myself, “What’s the matter, am I not INTERESTING enough for you, you bastards?!” But then I realize that the show hasn’t even aired yet, and I’ll probably be flooded with hits, and also a lot of emails containing messages like “Hi. What R U doing to loose weight and how much weight have U lost?”, and I calm down. * * * Okay, I think I’m going to slap up a Friday Five or two, and call it a day. See you on Monday! 1. How many houses/apartments have you lived in throughout your life? Oh, let me think… As a kid, I lived in: Bangor, Maine A base in Indiana Goosebay, Canada Kinchloe AFB, Michigan Guam Loring AFB, Maine Lisbon Falls, Maine After the age of 18, I lived in: Durham, Maine Brunswick, Maine Bath, Maine Brunswick, Maine Newport, Rhode Island Lisbon Falls, Maine Newport, Rhode Island Huntsville, Alabama Madison, Alabama (the old house) Madison, Alabama (now) So, 17 altogether. 2. Which was your favorite and why? I have a soft spot for the first apartment I ever lived in by myself (uh, the only apartment I ever lived in by myself) on Main Street in Brunswick, Maine. It was a shithole, but I have some happy memories from there. 3. Do you find moving house more exciting or stressful? Why? Stressful, because I just want to get it done and over with. 4. What’s more important, location or price? I would say price, but actually I think location is more important. When we were looking for a house last time, we started off thinking that we’d get a less expensive house out in the country, but actually ended up with a house that cost around the same price in a nicer neighborhood. 5. What features does your dream house have (pool, spa bath, big yard, etc.)? I’d like to have more land, not be so close to our neighbors, and maybe a bigger kitchen, but I think the house we’re in is pretty close to perfect. Except for the carpeted stairs, of course. A hot tub would be pretty nice, too. And a room off by itself that I could escape to when Fred’s watching his loud-ass action movies. ]]>

* * * Thanks to everyone who emailed with face cream and eczema suggestions. I’m not going to respond to them, because I don’t have time, but I’ve definitely read them, and have dumped them into a folder so that once all the Bullshit! stuff is past, I can re-read them and decide what to do. Speaking of Bullshit!, I was reading Shopaholic Ties the Knot (I ended up staying up until after midnight finishing it – I mean, with a book like that you know there’s going to be a happy ending, it’s practically guaranteed, but you still want to see HOW it all works out) last night, and the main character, Becky, was up in front of a large crowd of people getting the once-over (the Manhattan Once-Over, I think she called it), and suddenly I was overwhelmed, and I put the book down and buried my face in my hands. “Oh my GOD, oh my GOD!” I groaned. “Yeah, I know,” Fred said, knowing immediately what I was freaking out about. “In two days, millions of people,” I stopped and reconsidered. Because it’s Showtime, after all, not HBO. “At least hundreds of thousands of people will be looking at us! What the hell were we thinking?!” Now, don’t get me wrong. The promo, which I’ve watched a thousand times, both on my computer and over Fred’s shoulder, has shown me that I’m not as big an idiot as I tend to think (that, or they have really good editors…), but still. It’s a freaky, freaky thing! One must wonder what on earth possessed us. Speaking of Shopaholic Ties the Knot, I was reading along, and was pleased to discover that the author – Sophie Kinsella – is obviously a reader of this very website. There was a shout-out! To me! In the book! I even scanned it so that y’all could see for yourself:

See? See how she, all in jest, spelled my name wrong and everything? Me and Sophie, we’re likethis! I’m kidding, of course. But if anyone out there ever writes a book, you’ll name a character after me, right? I knew I could count on you. * * * Since every muscle in my body continues to hurt, I’m suspending spring cleaning for the time being and will pick it up again in a few days. It amazes me that my abs are killing me from doing gardening on Monday – I mean, I could understand my arms and shoulders hurting, and my legs, but my abs? I guess I used those muscles when I was hoeing (hee!) more than I realized. I moved the bird feeders a few feet out toward the middle of the yard – I think I mentioned that – and our cardinal does NOT approve. He’s spent a good part of the last few days sitting on top of the hanger-thingy that we hang the bird feeders from, making very, very bitchy noises. At least one cat has used the dug-up flower bed as a litter box. I have my suspicions, but cannot prove anything. * * * Pet store kitty pics are here. * * * I am SO FUCKING SICK of programs installing themselves on my toolbar! That should be fucking illegal, and I AM LOOKING AT YOU, REALPLAYER! I can’t watch myself in the Bullshit! promo without RealPlayer, unfortunately, or I’d’ve uninstalled the motherfucker immediately. I HATE THAT SHIT. (And yes, I did figure out how to get rid of it, but that’s beside the point, damnit!) Heh. I just uninstalled Outlook, and got a popup saying “Uninstalling Outlook Express 6 may prevent Outlook from functioning. Do you want to continue?” Unfortunately there was no “FUCK yes!” option, so I had to settle for the simple “yes.” And just so you know – I have nothing against Outlook or Outlook users, it just pisses me off that it installs with fucking EVERY software, or so it seems. It installed with Office 2000, I uninstalled it, and then it installed with… something else. What was it? God knows. If I were an Outlook user, I’d probably love that, but I’m a Eudora gal myself. * * * Is it just me, or in Jennifer Lopez’s latest song (the one with LL Cool J), does she sound ASTOUNDINGLY like Lisa Lisa? Please don’t tell me that I’m so old you have no idea who Lisa Lisa is. Go download All Cried Out (Lisa Lisa and Cult Jam with Full Force) and listen to it back-to-back with All I Have (J. Lo and LL Cool J) and tell me I’m wrong. I dare you. Won’t Fred be surprised when he comes home and discovers I’ve used his computer to download a Jennifer Lopez song on Grokster! After yesterday’s debacle, I don’t dare to download it on my own system. * * * I don’t think I’ve shown y’all this series of pictures, but if I have, forgive me. They’ve been hanging around on my memory stick since mid-January sometime, and I’m clearing all the old pictures off. The And3rson kitties, partaking of some fine quality Kitty pot. Looking a little paranoid… Tubby sniffs for catnip remnants, annoying the shit out of Spot in the process. Tubby gets paranoid, giving a blank-eyed Little Orphan Annie look. And The Daddy tosses a pair of socks at the blinds, making a loud clatter and scaring the hell out of the kitties. (Spot particularly amuses me, in his mid-hop)]]>

Spring Cleaning type things done since yesterday’s entry: Cleaned inside of all windows. Pulled out refrigerator and vacuumed back of fridge, floor, and wall. Also, scrubbed floor. Will attempt to create another cat out of the cat fur found there. Body parts NOT in screaming agony: Face and fingernails. If found a job as a gardener-type person, would probably be hardbody within three weeks. Conclusion reached: Am wimp. No spring cleaning today. Instead will surf the web, read my book, and whine about how much I hurt. Spring Cleaning type things to do tomorrow: Outside of windows (still too windy today, anyway), clean floors with Floormate, dust baseboards. “Lose” Fancypants so that he will not make me paranoid when he starts sniffing around a piece of furniture.

* * * I always forget how crappy my skin becomes in the spring. It’s especially bad this year – I have a bit of eczema at the best of times, but at the moment it’s going rampant all over my arms and the backs of my knees. I think that switching detergents – from Tide to Gain, because of a FIVE DOLLAR savings at Sam’s when I bought the big-ass container – may be contributing a little to the itchiness. My face, also, is itchy as hell lately. I used up the rest of the face cream I’d been using – the name of which escapes me at the moment – and switched to Clinique, because I’ve heard good things about it. But my face has gone from fine-but-dry to dry-and-itchy since I started using it. I think my face might be sending me a signal that more expensive is not necessarily worth it. I had intended to at least use up the jar, but I’m waking up with big red scratch marks on my face from scratching in my sleep, so I guess it’s time to move on. If you have any face cream suggestions for a cranky face, let me know. * * * I just received spam, the subject reading Re: How Big is a Inch? How Big are You? “How big is an inch?” What kind of fucking question is that? An inch is 1/12th of a foot. And how big am I? None of your fucking business, thanks. But you’d better believe that if I had a penis, it’d be a big swingin’ one. And I’d know how to use it. (Ha! See what I did there? I circumvented your “It’s not the size, it’s how you use it!” argument.) * * * Is it just me, or is Britney Spears getting kind of weird looking, the older she gets? She looks like a greyhound or something. * * * We watched the movie Jackass last weekend, because Fred wanted to see it. The one time I saw the show on MTV, they were eating hard-boiled eggs until they barfed, and I think I actually left the room until it was over, because I just can’t stand that shit. There were funny parts to the movie – especially the ceiling fan part – but there were also some pretty gross parts, and I had to cover my ears, close my eyes, and wait until Fred told me it was safe to look a couple of times. Anything with shit or dead cats, I couldn’t stand. I also didn’t care for the amazingly frequent barfing. Look, I know that barfing’s a part of life, but I just don’t want to have to see it for myself, mm’kay? As I told Fred, if you put several men in a room together, their idea of a good time would apparently be to punch each other in the crotch, and barf and shit all over the place. This weekend, we’ll be watching Red Dragon and I’ll be watching Far From Heaven. I thought Secretary was supposed to come out this week, but Movie Gallery didn’t seem to have it in stock. Don’t get me started on Movie Gallery. While I was looking at movies, I discovered that the book I was currently reading (I finished it last night during the dreck that was American Idol) had been made into a movie starring Heather Graham and Joseph Fiennes. I really, really liked the book – even gave it four Poos on the reading page – but I could immediately see how much the movie must suck. I mean, Heather Graham as the main character? In the book, the main character’s British – in the movie she’s an American living in London. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was because Heather Graham couldn’t fake a British accent to save her life. It almost makes me want to rent it just so I can laugh at it. * * * ]]>

Spring Cleaning type things done today: vigorous dusting of all blinds (need to be redone, explanation in entry), clearing out of old daffodil and gladiolus bulbs. Opened windows in computer room to air cat pee smell out. (Note to self: encourage Fancypants to run away) Scrubbed down laundry room, especially around litter box area, cleaned out litter boxes and litter box holder, refilled clean litter box. Moved bird feeder holder out toward the middle of the yard, as the area where it was located is getting overgrown with strange bird-seed plants. Was going to wash outside of all windows, but need to wait for a less windy day. May clean inside of all windows later. Conclusion reached: Am not, despite lifelong inner belief, a gardener-type person. Have decided will simply buy cut flowers for rest of life instead of trying to dig up flower beds. When amazingly fabulously wealthy in future, will hire gardener-type persons. Spring Cleaning type things to do tomorrow: Clean windows inside and out (if less windy than today), scrub kitchen, library and hallway floors with Floormate (not strictly Spring Cleaning type chore, but needs doing anyway), dust walls and ceilings downstairs with Swiffer. If ambitious, do ceiling fans as well.

* * * Fred did this, that and the other, and fixed my computer. I have to get it all set up the way I like, but I copied the important things – Eudora and my Favorites folder – as soon as the computer was up and running last night, so it’s feeling like home. Have I mentioned that I love my geek of a husband? * * * So I got up this morning, did my yoga (I’m just doing yoga this week, because my ass needs a break from the bike), and then began some of the spring cleaning that’s been hanging over my head since, say, the fall cleaning I never did. One of the first things I did was to go around with a feather duster and dust all the blinds. I know that a real cleaning of the blinds would consist of taking them down, soaking them in the tub, and then rinsing them and putting them out back to dry. Won’t be happening in my lifetime, thanks. The feather duster, though, just didn’t clean the blinds the way I hoped it would, and I resigned myself to the idea of going back around the house and using a Swiffer cloth to clean them, which was going to be a pain in the ass. But then! Then, I went to the grocery store, and as I was going down the cleaning aisle, I glanced down and saw something that will make it much easier. The Swiffer duster! I tried it when I got home, and it worked great. Yay! And then I went out to dig up the bed where I planted daffodil bulbs and gladiolus bulbs, and what a PAIN IN THE ASS that was. I think I’ve finally decided I am NO gardener. The whole time I do any type of gardening thing, my main intent is to get it done and over with as soon as humanly possible. In the future, I’m going to plant things in planters, and be done with it. * * * * * * Have I mentioned recently that my readers rock? In the mail lately, I’ve received postcards from reader Retha and Jane, a St. Patrick’s Day card from reader Robbie, TWO Get Well cards for Miz Poo from readers Melissa and Kathy. And then today, when I checked the PO Box, I found a box from Amazon, and a box from Retha (who sent the aforementioned postcard). The Amazon box contained three audiobooks: In Her Shoes, Good in Bed, and The Nanny Diaries. Amazon didn’t tell me who sent the audiobooks, though, so whoever bought them for me off of my wish list, please let me know so I can thank you properly. And the box from reader Retha? It contained a BUNCH of stuff – apparently my Christmas, birthday, AND valentine’s day presents, all in one happy box! Adorable picture frames, cool pens, happy face slippers (which Retha referred to as “hideous”, but which I think are funny as hell), a Joe Boxer purse, good smelling candles, and more. Definitely a bright spot in my day. Retha, please email me, so that I can thank YOU properly as well! * * * I’m so very glad to have March done and over with – and April seems to be off to a pretty good start so far. Of course, when I read stuff like this, I realize that as bad as my March seemed, it really wasn’t all that bad.]]>

What Makes me Crazy 1. Da kitties. Specifically – and let me take a second to thank god she’s okay – Miz Poo, at the moment. I love that she follows me from room to room, and I love that she likes to lay on me, but for the last three nights, she’s been waking me up every hour to climb on top of me, digging the talons in her back feet into the most sensitive skin, settling down with her nose an inch from my ear, and then snoring. If she’s not doing that, she’s smacking my arm to get me to roll over from my stomach (my favorite sleeping position) to my side, so that she can dig at my arm pit (I have no idea why), and then curl up next to my hand and rub her wet, slimy nose all over my hand until I obey and scratch her on top of the head, between her eyes, and behind her ears. And woe betide the Momma who falls asleep while doing so! To reiterate – INCREDIBLY glad that she’s going to be okay, but Momma needs her sleep. Also, Fancypants, who was furious at Fred, who had the nerve to shut the cat door against the driving rain Saturday morning, and responded by peeing in a corner of the computer room. I’m all for tossing Fancypants’s ass outside and leaving him out there all night, I really am sometimes. Bastard. 2. Some readers. I DO NOT HAVE A SOUTHERN ACCENT! Ya nutballs. 3. Books and magazines. There are so many of them! How can I possibly choose one single book to read at a time, and how can I sit with a book when my beloved magazines are calling my name? I’m only one woman! 4. The online journals and diet journals I read. Because they don’t update often enough. Even though I’m a few days behind in my journal reading, y’all STILL don’t update often enough, hear me? 5. Fred. The doors? And drawers? Which you love to open? They shut as well, did you know that? And your dirty dishes? Which you are dumping into the clean, empty sink? Can just as easily go into the dishwasher with the OTHER dirty dishes, yes they can. Really they can! And all that talk about getting me a new car? I know you’re just trying to get me all excited! I won’t be suckered in, I won’t be suckered in… Ooh! That Echo really is adorable… 6. The spud. No! It’s my computer, and I won’t be off soon, and even when I am off, please stop forwarding the same thing to each and every one of my email addresses! Momma loves you, but don’t make me hide my email address from you! And the dishes? Which you’re dumping into the clean sink I emptied not ten minutes ago? I should think you’d know how to load the dishwasher by now, since you do it every night! 7. Candles Like the books, too many choices! Too many choices! How can I decide between Buttercream and Oatmeal Raisin Cookie? How could I possibly make a decision like that?! Thank god for eenie meenie minie moe, that’s all I have to say. 8. My car. And Fred’s, too. They’re running rough, they’re running loud. They’re both 1997 Jeeps, and altogether have less than 100,000 miles on them. 100,000 COMBINED, people. And we’ve dished out a fucking fortune in recent months to fix them. Doesn’t seem to be working. Gah! 9. My computer. Still locking up, still claiming I’m using too much memory when I only have Eudora and Internet Explorer open. I’ve probably said “Don’t start with me, you fucking thing!” 32,000 times in the last week. Damn thing! I’ve backed everything up, and Fred’s going to floople the doop (technical term) tomorrow, so if I’m missing for a day or two, it’s probably because Fred made my computer blow up.]]>