reading: Fat Girl, by Judith Moore.
Finished last night: The Things We Do for Love, by Kristin Hannah. Good book and I ended up staying up late to finish it, but if you can’t see the ending by the time you’re 50 pages in, you have to be clueless.
* * *
So thanks for all your headache advice, y’all. I did a little looking around online, and I did have a lot of the symptoms of a migraine – fatigue, neck pain, pain on one side of my head that moved to the other side – which leads me to my next question: Is it common for a woman in her late (::sob!::) thirties to suddenly start having migraines? Because I’m pretty sure that I’ve never had a headache that lasted for two days before. I was even ready to take my ass to the doctor, and y’all KNOW I’m no fan of going to the doctor.
* * *
How ’bout that whole Oprah thing? For those of you who haven’t heard, she was turned away from Hermes when she wanted to dash in to buy a watch for her BFF Tina Turner. One report stated that employees of the store said they’d been “having problems with North Africans lately”, but another report states that they knew exactly who Oprah was.
You can bet there are people shitting and heads rolling in gay Paree right about now. And if Oprah actually does a show about the whole thing? Whoo-ee. Hermes better pack it in. They’re going to be hurting.
Not that I care about Hermes one way or the other, you understand. Now, if Target had turned her away, that’d be a whole ‘nother story…
* * *
Fred and I were laying in bed the other night, and I said “I guess I need to make an appointment to take Edgar in.”
Fred said, “How come?”
“Because of the rattle. You know, the rattle I was telling you about?”
Long silence, and then I realized why he was confused.
“
Edgar the car,” I said. “Not the
cat.”
“That’s a fairly important piece of information you might have wanted to share,” Fred said.
Oh, the hilarity that ensues when your car and foster kitten have the same name! I could almost hear the laugh track in the background.
* * *
So, I mentioned in the past that we like to watch
Family Plots, and someone asked if we liked the show. Well, of course we like the show! How can you not like a show set in a mortuary, with a set of characters like that?
I could do without the occasional dead-body-involved scene when Shonna’s in the middle of embalming. Shonna, by the way, is my favorite. She doesn’t hesitate to say how it is, and she reminds me a little of my sister. I pretty much like everyone on the show, though Chuck gets on my nerves, probably because he reminds me A LOT of someone I can’t stand (someone I know in real life, though haven’t had to deal with for about five years now – longtime readers might remember Tex). We always look forward to watching the show, and in the past few weeks we’ve made a point of settling down on Saturday nights to watch two episodes of Family Plots and then Intervention.
Speaking of TV, we watched
Entourage from Sunday night, and were REALLY surprised to see Ralph Macchio. Especially since it took us until Drama said “Macchio! Tell Hefner you let the monkeys out of their cages!” for us to realize that it was, in fact, Ralph Macchio. I have no idea what it is, but the man looks NOTHING like he did when he was the Karate Kid, and it can’t be blamed on bad plastic surgery, because he’s a perfectly nice-looking man, but I never would have known that I was looking at Ralph Macchio.
* * *
Hmm. Nope, not a damn thing going on ’round here today. Let’s talk about the kittens, shall we?
Did you feel the earth shake on its axis Sunday? Miss Flossie actually let me pick her UP and snuggle with her for a good two or three minutes, and she didn’t fight it or anything! I guess the best time to get some kitty snuggling is when they’re just waking up.
I’ve started wearing a sweatshirt into the cat room because now every damn one of those kittens climbs up the back of my shirt at some point, and a plain old t-shirt isn’t protecting me enough. The sweatshirt, however, will absorb those sharp little kitten claws, and they can climb to their heart’s content without maiming me.
This morning, they somehow knocked over the platform thingy they love to jump on, and they thought it was the COOLEST THING EVER. For at least ten minutes, all five of them were running at and jumping on the platform, then jumping off and racing around the room like their little butts were on fire.
I’ll have to remember to get a picture of it, so y’all know what I’m talking about.
The kittens love my camera. They’ve been known to attack the camera and drag it across the floor by the strap. Which makes it somewhat difficult to take pictures sometimes.
Sleepin’ Edgar.
I swear, I don’t think Peanut’s tongue is EVER in his mouth.
Oy just loves chewin’ on straws.
Such a sweet Miss Flossie.
“I haff come to suck yoor blooood.”
* * *
Da Poo in da sun.]]>