Category: Life

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Q is for Quarry. After I do the Friday Five, that is. Friday Five. 1. If you could only choose 1 cd to ever listen to again, what would it be? Les Miserables. Hey, it’s three disks, but one album, so don’t look at me like that! 2. If you could only choose 2 movies to watch ever again, what would they be? When Harry Met Sally, and Les Miserables – the Dream Cast in Concert. What can I say? We listened to Les Miz all the damn way to Gatlinburg, and I still love it. Master of the house/ isn’t worth a spit/ comforter, philosopher, and lifelong shit! is still rolling through my brain at odd times. 3. If you could only choose 3 books to read ever again, what would they be? The Stand, Good in Bed, and a random volume of the encyclopedia. 4. If you could only choose 4 things to eat or drink ever again, what would they be? Since I’m only eating and/or drinking the same 4 things, I’m apparently not concerned with my health, so I’d say Coke (the regular, not the diet), lobster, steak, and white cake from Peggy Ann’s Bakery (in Huntsville). 5. If you could only choose 5 people to ever be/talk/associate/whatever with ever again, who would they be? Ih. Let’s say: Fred, the spud, Debbie, Liz, and Miz Poo. What? Are you trying to tell me that Miz Poo isn’t a people? ‘Cause she seems to THINK she is!]]>

I could not get that Tubby bastard to swallow his freakin’ pill. I’m hopeless when it comes to medicating a cat, in case you were wondering. * * * So, we did indeed have a great time in Gatlinburg. We didn’t stay in our usual hotel, because by the time we’d decided we were going to G’burg, that hotel was all full up. We stayed, instead, in a hotel on the other end of town, and it was VERY nice, despite the stinky smell of the rooms. If we stay there again, I am for sure taking candles or air freshener with me. I didn’t get any pictures of the room, but believe me when I say it was nice. There was a huge shower, a whirlpool tub (Fred and I took turns making use of the tub, believe me), and what impressed the spud the most was the phone in the bathroom next to the toilet. Plus, there was the continental breakfast every morning! Sure, it was just buttered white toast, orange juice, and hot cocoa, but I do love me some buttered white toast. Goes with that whole white trash thing, I guess. I’d rather stay in a hotel closer to the middle of the strip next time, because it’s our habit to not head back to the hotel until our feet are about to fall off, which only makes the walk seem that much longer. Friday morning I woke up with my hamstrings screaming, Saturday morning my quads hurt, and Sunday morning I had some serious hip pain. I think what made me hurt isn’t the fact that we were walking. It was the fact that we walked for FOUR hours at a time, with lots of standing around looking, and very little sitting. But pain builds character, right? That, or it turns you into a psycho, one or the other. Sleeping in the same bed went a little better this time around, though I didn’t sleep as well as Fred did on Friday and Saturday nights. If you’ll be travelling to Gatlinburg in the next month and a half, I apologize for the fact that there’s not a drop of fudge or pecan turtles in the entire town. I ate them all, and DAMN they were fine. And as always, it was nice to get home. Miz Poo has been clingy ever since we got back, sleeping pressed up against me, laying between me and the keyboard most of the time, and just generally being an annoyance. Which is what I love about her, of course. We bought a cat toy at the Smoky Mountain Cat House in Pigeon Forge, a fur mouse on a stretchy string, that you hang from the doorway. We put it in the doorway between the computer room and the library, and while Miz Poo is slightly interested in watching it boing back and forth, she won’t chase it and smack it herself. Spot played with it for a little while, but the best part was when Fred tried to get Tubby to play with it. It appears that our fearless Tubby is afraid of the furry little mouse on a string. Heh. * * * Of the 60ish pictures we took in Gatlinburg, none of them were of the three of us. I kept meaning to utilize the timer feature, but never got around to it. But on our last full day there, the spud and I stopped and had our picture taken at a good old-fashioned picture booth. Our vacation pictures will be up in a few days (says she who still hasn’t put the Maine vacation pictures up!). I’ll link to ’em when they’re up.]]>

Gatlinburg (an entry in haiku form) Time goes by slowly, hours and hours upon the road. Are we there yet, Fred? Fred plays Les Miz, and claps like a great big doofus. My ears now gush blood. Sing now, tone-deaf fool! Three whole compact discs of this? Jean Valjean you ain’t. Stopping in Georgia important part of the trip. Fred and his scratch-offs. Tony Robbins tapes – blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Please god, take me now. Big slow fucking truck, why you drive in the left lane? Make Fred have a stroke. Oh, my Gatlinburg. Hours and hours away from home. I wish to eat fudge. In the back seat, she pouts attitudinously. Don’t make me hurt you. First time yellow shirt Honey-mustard dribbles down Boobs covered with blotch of sauce. Pecan turtles, and rocky road fudge. My ass grows larger with every bite. Like Baryshnikov, Fred dances around the room. Go to bed, damnit. People all around. Dead stop, middle of sidewalk. Move your fucking ass. Rain, rain, go away come again some other day. Goddamn fucking rain. At almost midnight, screaming people on the street won’t shut the fuck up. When I awaken, my quads scream with ev’ry move. Gatlinburg Death March. Hotel room so big roomy, spacious, perfect. Butt is what it smells like. Rain, rain, yet again Gatlinburg all dark and gray It’s time to go home. Miz Poo chirps at me and then she purrs happily, glad to have us home. Fred was a great help in writing some of these haikus.]]>

Bitchypoo – the best of.]]>

Slander, which I’m currently trying to read. I’m having a hard time getting into it, because Ann Coulter’s arguments strike me as really pretty disingenuous. And I made sure to use the word “disingenuous”, because Fred has come to loathe that word, ever since Ghandia used it 45,000 times in last week’s Survivor. Fred looked at me and said “Maybe you should put Ann Coulter back on the bookcase and try the Sean Hannity book. Ann Coulter can be kind of mean-spirited.” Well, duh. * * * I got this survey via email from Chris, and am answering it in lieu of a “real” entry. It seems familiar, and I may have put it in here before, but what the hell. You know you can’t get enough information about me! 1. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? I wake up the first time around 6:40ish, when the spud knocks loudly to announce that she’s leaving to go wait for the bus (the child could walk to school, and not have to leave the house ’til 7:20, but she prefers to ride the bus. Sounds just like me at that age). Then 5 minutes later, more or less, Fred wakes me to chat for a few minutes, then hugs and kisses me before leaving for work. I go back to sleep for anywhere from one to two hours, but I’m definitely out of bed by 9. Unless I had a really late night the night before. 2. IF YOU COULD EAT LUNCH WITH ONE FAMOUS PERSON, WHO WOULD IT BE? I think that the last time I answered this question, I said Stephen King. Now I’m thinking that I’d really like to have lunch with Carol O’Connell. I would adore meeting the brain who created Kathy Mallory. I just finished Crime School last night, and teared up, especially the last line before the epilogue. For that matter, the epilogue had me boo-hoo’ing as well. If you’ve never read any Carol O’Connell books, I highly recommend the Mallory series. 3. GOLD OR SILVER? Ih. I have no real opinion – my wedding band and engagement ring are both gold (even though I hinted STRONGLY that I wanted platinum. Ahem.), but I have silver jewelry as well. I rarely wear jewelry other than my rings, so it’s mostly a moot point. 4. WHAT WAS THE LAST FILM YOU SAW AT THE CINEMA? Errrr… It was something with Fred, wasn’t it? Oh wait, it was Men In Black II with my mother and the kids while I was in Maine. I’m going to see Sweet Home Alabama with the spud this afternoon, though. And I’m hoping to convince Fred to go see Red Dragon with me when we get back from Gatlinburg. And I’ve been wanting to see The Good Girl, too. The list is endless, but I digress. 5. FAVORITE TV SHOW? That would be a tie between Survivor or Friends. Nice that they’re on opposite each other, isn’t it? 6. WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR BREAKFAST? I don’t eat breakfast, and don’t give me shit about it either, or I’ll smack you. 7. WHAT WOULD YOU HATE TO BE LEFT IN A ROOM WITH? Something that would scream and fly at my head. A monkey, maybe. Or dirty litter box. Gah. 8. CAN YOU TOUCH YOUR NOSE WITH YOUR TONGUE? No. I can, however, raise one eyebrow, wiggle my ears, and fold my tongue. I can also make my boobs dance a little jig by using my incredibly strong (yet womanly) pectoral muscles. 9. WHAT INSPIRES YOU? Um. I couldn’t tell you. Not because nothing inspires me, but because nothing’s coming to mind. Miz Poo inspires me! Oh wait, that’s not right. She COMPLETES me, not inspires me… I always get those two mixed up. 10. WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME? Leslie. 11. BEACH, CITY, OR COUNTRY? Beach – but a deserted beach, with no one around for miles, and lots of trees would be ideal. Cities are cool, but I wouldn’t want to live there. 12. SUMMER OR WINTER? Neither. Summer’s too hot, winter’s too cold. I prefer Spring. 13. FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Right now, it’s Godiva Vanilla with Chocolate Caramel hearts. I can actually feel my ass expanding when I eat it. 14. BUTTERED, SALTED OR PLAIN POPCORN? Popcorn’s one of those things that always smells better than it tastes – but if I had to choose, I’d say buttered and salted. 15. FAVORITE COLOR? Yellow, of course! I also like a smokey blue, though. 16. FAVORITE CAR? Favorite car of all time would be a Miata. Favorite car of the moment is the yellow VW Beetle. I can hear them calling me every time I drive by the VW dealership. 17. FAVORITE SANDWICH FILLING? Egg salad, I guess. Although I used to really love those Steak-Ummms minute steaks, and used to make kick-ass steak and cheese sandwiches with them. 18. TRUE LOVE? Do I believe in it? Yes. Do I have a true love? Yes. 19. WHAT CHARACTERISTICS DO YOU DESPISE? People who are condescending. Oh, and socialites who would be horrified at the idea of wearing a $5 t-shirt in public. Get OVER yourself. Okay, that’s not really a characteristic, is it? I also am not fond of liars. 20. FAVORITE FLOWER? Daffodils and sunflowers. Don’t make me choose! Also, carnations. 21. IF YOU HAD A BIG WIN IN THE LOTTERY? I’d buy a house on the ocean in Maine. Then I’d buy a huge tract of land in the country (probably in the south, since Fred would never step foot over the Mason-Dixon line on purpose), build several insulated barns, and go around to every pet shelter and adopt as many cats and dogs as I could. Then I’d hire people to help me take care of them. I’d also pay to have cats and dogs neutered and spayed if their owners couldn’t afford it. Oh, and of course I’d cure world hunger, and I’d form a new country where women like Amina Lawal could flee, and be safe. I guess I’m expecting a lot from one little ol’ lottery, aren’t I? 22. FIZZY OR STILL WATER AS A DRINK? Still water. 23. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHROOM? The master bathroom has cream-colored walls, and smokey blue accessories. 24. HOW MANY KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING? Five? Six? I’m too lazy to go look. 25. WHERE WOULD YOU RETIRE TO? Maine in the summer, Florida in the winter! 26. CAN YOU JUGGLE? IF YES HOW MANY? Nope. I’m not coordinated enough. 27. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK? Thursday, ’cause it’s Survivor night! 28. RED OR WHITE WINE? I don’t drink wine. 29. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY? I absolutely cannot remember. I went back and looked at my entry for that day, but it gives me no clue. Surely we went out to dinner? I don’t know, but I’m sure it was awesome! 30. DO YOU CARRY A DONOR CARD? Yep, and if you ever come across my brain-dead body in an ER, you’re under strict orders to tell them that they can take any organs that would be of use to someone else. It’s not like I’m going to use ’em, after all. * * * I have no idea whether I’ll have time to put up an entry tomorrow before we leave for Gatlinburg. Tomorrow marks 3 years since I began my journal, and I wanted to put up an entry marking the occasion. If I don’t have time to write an entry between now and when we leave tomorrow, I’ll write one when I get back and back-date it. Three years of journalling with only the occasional week off – pretty good, huh? * * * ]]>

someone is a bastard and likes to pee up the side of the box, the litter boxes need to be taken outside and scrubbed vigorously – when the spud harassed me for the 34,986th time about making an appointment to have her hair cut. I finally forced myself to sit down and call and make the appointment – for 11:00 – and then scrambled to finish cleaning the laundry/ litter box room, and the master bathroom (which was getting nasty ’cause it’s been a few weeks since I’ve cleaned in there). I not only did all that, I also vacuumed the entire upstairs before I had to jump in the shower and get ready to go. Luckily, I’m a low-maintenance girl, and can go from shower to dressed and ready to go in about 15 minutes. I dropped the spud off at the hair salon and ran to Wal-Mart to buy some ear plugs. Then I went to Amoco to fill up the gas tank, and was back at the hair salon within half an hour. I cooled my heels for ten minutes or so, read the February 2001 issue of GQ (oh, that Edward Burns!), and then paid for the spud’s hair cut. On a side note, I think that that particular hair salon is on the edge of going out of business – there was only one person working, and a sign out front advertising booths for rent. I decided, since we were out already, to go to Sam’s and get a short list of stuff. Once we got there, we were wandering across the store toward the gum and candy aisle (we’re some gum-chewing fools around here) when an elderly gentleman hailed me. “Excuse me,” he said, with a large smile. I stopped and politely said “Yes?” He pointed at me, and then at the spud. “Which of you is the mother and which is the daughter?” he asked, still smiling. It took a moment to sink in, and then I laughed and resumed walking. He appeared to be QUITE proud of himself for that one. We were finally in line waiting to check out when another elderly gentleman walked toward my cart. Thinking he wanted to go around me, I pulled my cart back, but he put his hand on the edge of it and struck up a conversation about the shrimp I was buying. It was a short conversation, because to my knowledge, there are two simple ways to answer the question “Is that shrimp good?”, and I answered in the affirmative, not once but twice, sounding (I’m sure) like a big dork. By the time we got home, it was time for lunch, and the rest of the afternoon was spent in an orgy of laziness – in other words, the usual. * * * Thus far today I have spent many many MANY hours cleaning the floors in the downstairs portion of the house. I love the fact that we have hardwood floors in the library and foyer, but I hate the fact that I haven’t once been able to get them polished decently since we moved in over a year ago. Mopping leaves them streaked, and wet kitty toes leave them kitty-toed, and no matter what I’ve tried, they’ve remained streaked, even after I ran the Floormate over it. So I was resigned to streaky, unpolished-looking floors, until last week when I spied a bottle of Orange Glo Wood Floor Polish and Cleaner. After much thought, I decided to go for it, and bought the bottle. Then it sat under the sink for a week or so, until today. After running the Floormate over all the floors downstairs, I watched ER and waited for the floors to dry. Then I used the Orange Glo on the hardwood floors, and when it had dried, I saw that it was good. I mean, the floors aren’t going to be mistaken for new or anything, but it looks amazing compared to how it used to look. Two thumbs up to the Orange Glo. * * * This is a mighty exciting entry, isn’t it? Could I be any more interesting? Should I do an entry about watching paint dry, or what? * * * I rented Jason X and Kissing Jessica Stein today. Actually, before I rented the movies I looked for them at Movie Gallery, the movie store closest to our house, and thus the preferred store. I found Kissing Jessica Stein, but didn’t see Jason X anywhere. I stood in line to ask if they HAD it behind the counter, but after waiting several minutes at the end of a non-moving, very long line, I got pissed, put Jessica Stein back on the shelf, and headed for Hollywood Video, which is about a five minute drive. The entire way there I composed a letter in my head about the shoddy, crappy service at Movie Gallery, and how the movies are NEVER on the fucking shelf on the day they come out, and it’s getting MIGHTY FUCKING OLD. At Hollywood Video, I found Jessica Stein easily, again, but couldn’t seem to locate Jason X. I looked at all the movies that started with J, and saw it nowhere. I was about to ask the clerk (the good thing about Hollywood Video is that it’s rarely crowded during the week), when I passed the movies that start with G, and saw it sitting there. My snarky comment – I was actually going to sing the alphabet song, and ask which alphabet the people who work at Hollywood Video go by – was removed from my brain when the clerk asked if I was a Jason fan. “Hee!” I said. “Hahahahah! Uh, NO! It’s not for ME.” And it’s not – it’s for Fred and the spud. While they watch that craptastic movie, I’ll be upstairs watching Life with Bonnie and Less Than Perfect – neither of which I’ve seen, but about which I’ve heard good things. Even watching paint dry would be better than watching Jason X, I’m certain.]]>

this just leave me speechless. If I had a million dollars, I’d buy a huge piece of land in the country, and I would build huge insulated barns, and I would adopt every cat and dog I could, and I would care for them, and I would let people adopt them from me, and I would make them sign a contract agreeing to the condition that I could randomly drop by their house to see how that animal was being cared for. But I could adopt and house and care for a million cats and dogs, and it wouldn’t even be a drop in the bucket. For the love of god, people. Spay and neuter your dogs and cats. If I had a trillion dollars, I’d pay to have them spayed and neutered myself. * * * Attention, Tubby-lovers! If you haven’t seen it yet, Fred put up a bunch of pictures of the Tubster, here – toward the bottom of the page. Enjoy, you weirdos! * * * He also got some good pictures of Miz Poo. I don’t know why on earth she insists on cramming herself into the most uncomfortable-looking positions on earth, but she consistently does it. You are, by the way, forbidden to notice the pile of dust bunnies laying on the floor in front of the bookcase.]]>

Well! I thought to myself. At least he ADMITS it. I mean, I’m not surprised, but it’s good that he’s confessing the truth to the world! The deejay continued. “Reid pled guilty to the eight counts against him, which included attempted use of a weapon of mass destruction, attempted homicide, and placing an explosive device on an aircraft.” Which is when I realized I was thinking of Ralph Reed, not Richard Reid. Common mistake, I’m sure. * * * This is my kind of evil. * * * Big, bad thanks to Heather, who sent me – from my wish list – Hallmarks of Felinity. God, it’s funny as hell. I highly recommend it! Check this out, too. * * * I went and fed and poop-scooped for the cats at the pet store this morning. Fred went with me, since he’d done it before, and he actually fed the cats while I scooped the poop. I forgot what a pain in the butt it is to actually scoop out litter boxes, instead of using the handy-dandy sifter system we have going for ours. It was cool – all the cats there are adolescent-aged, and except for the escapee who hid under the cages and had to be dragged out kicking and hissing, they were all pretty well-behaved. I didn’t take much time to hug and love on any of them, because Fred was eager to get to work. When I start with my regular day next week, maybe I’ll get a chance to do some kitty-lovin’. * * * 1. What size shoe do you wear? 9 wide. 2. How many pairs of shoes do you own? I’ll estimate that I own 6 or 7 pairs of shoes. I’m not a big shoe person, but I do have certain shoe needs. 3. What type of shoe do you prefer (boots, sneakers, pumps, etc.)? Sandals during warm weather, because they’re comfortable and easy to slip on. During the winter, I wear my black leather Keds. 4. Describe your favorite pair of shoes. Why are they your favorite? My blue slide-on sandals. They’re my favorite ’cause they’re easy to put on, and because they’re comfortable. I’m not one of those women who will wear 6″ heels because they look good. In fact, the one pair of heels I have are about 1″ high, and I haven’t worn them since we went to Fred’s grandmother’s funeral in the summer of 2001. 5. What’s the most you’ve spent on one pair of shoes? A little more than $100, I think, on a pair of New Balance sneakers. I can’t fathom regularly spending hundreds of dollars on shoes. Hundreds of dollars on books? That I can understand. * * * Tubby and Spanky in the midst of a confab at the top of the stairs. And Spanky gets so excited he needs to go sniff Tubby’s ass. Tubby isn’t sure how he feels about that. If you look closely, you can see how badly Tubby needs to be brushed.]]>

Does this look comfortable to you? * * * Best wishes to reader Aly, who will be walking in the Atlanta 3-Day this weekend. Here’s hoping that the rain just blows on by! * * * Have I mentioned that my parents, my sister, and my nephew are talking about coming to Alabama for Christmas? It’ll depend on whether my mother can get the time off. My mother is just dying to get the hell out of Dodge over Christmas – for years she’s been saying she was just going to go away for the holidays and everyone else – my grandmother and uncle – could just take care of themselves. She’s tired of cooking all kinds of food to only have my grandmother be uninterested in eating. Anyway, I should know more this weekend, if not before. It would be kinda cool if they could do it – and the spud and Brian wouldn’t have to go an entire 10 months before seeing each other again. * * * During the eternal days of rain we suffered through last week, I happened to glance out the window at our bird feeders. Apparently the rain and humidity had caused some growth: Yesterday, when I went to empty out the feeders to clean them and refill them with clean seed, I found that both feeders were ROOT-BOUND, and I was unable to empty them. Because the feeders are a few years old, I figured they’d done their tour of duty and tossed them in the trash. Later, since I needed a few other things, I ran to Target, with the intention of buying a couple of bird feeders on my way out. After going all OVER the store and being unable to find them, I had to stop and actually think about it. “Where,” I asked myself, “Are the bird feeders at Wal-Mart?” I thought a good long time, smoke coming out of my ears. “Oh yeah… by the dog and cat food. Does it not, then, stand to reason that the bird feeders in Target might be near the pet supplies?” And they were. So I stood in the aisle, looking for feeders just like our old ones, and when I thought I had found them, I was aghast. “TWENTY-FIVE dollars for a bird feeder?” I said to myself. “I think NOT!” And as I looked closer, I noticed that the feeder was just like our old ones, but didn’t have the little seed-catching/ platform thing on the bottom. And we have big, fat doves who love to come eat from our feeders, and without the platform thing, there would be no way for them to partake of the yummy seed, because they’re very big and heavy, and couldn’t possibly balance on the tiny little stick-things that the smaller birds can easily sit on. I stood in the aisle for perhaps five minutes, looking at each and every kind of bird feeder, trying to decide what to do. I wasn’t willing to spend much more than ten dollars per bird feeder, and some of the prices were just ridiculous. I thought and fumed and considered, and then I decided I would just haul my ass to Wal-Mart, because I knew for sure that they had the right kind of feeders. And as I turned, I saw it. Directly in front of me, was the exact kind of feeder I wanted, on sale for just under $11. It had been there the entire time, but I just hadn’t seen it, despite the fact that I’d made a point of carefully looking at each and every feeder at least twice. I hate it when that happens. * * * Spanky is the Lance Bass of our family. Lights? On. Yet no one is home. * * * I’m kind of excited about tomorrow. See, there’s a no-kill shelter in Madison – they have mainly cats – and they’re in partnership with one of the pet stores in the area, wherein the pet stores keep several cats in cages so that people can come in and fall in love with them and want to adopt them. There are volunteers who go to the pet store each morning and evening to feed the cats and scoop out their litter boxes. Fred went and did it on Monday, and said that I should volunteer to do it as well. So I emailed the lady who runs the shelter and asked if they needed any volunteers to help out, and she said that starting next week one of their regular volunteers would no longer be doing [censored so that stalkers won’t know when to find me] mornings, and if I wanted, I could take over. Oh, and their usual Friday morning person was going to be out of town this week, so could I cover that as well? So I’m going to, and of course the best part of this whole experience will be neither the feeding nor the scooping, but rather the petting and hugging. I’ll let you know how it goes. * * * Fred took this incredibly good picture of Tubby, and I stole it. So there!]]>