Month: June 2005

serving saver container and the poop scoop, and as soon as she was done I stopped her from kicking litter over it, and I scooped the whole stinking mess into the container (and you should know that the idea of doing something like that makes me want to barf, but in practice I don’t actually have too much of a problem with it) and ran it to the vet. Where they ran tests on it and didn’t find a single goddamn thing. Which is good, I guess, but she’s still having diarrhea and tromping through it, damnit. Damn cats.

* * * Good god, it’s June 16th already. THE SUMMER’S PRACTICALLY OVER! How the hell did that happen? * * * This is the story of how my husband is a fucker. Last night I spent some time with the kittens before bed, and then I came out of the kitten room at 9:20ish, as I always do. I went into the bathroom and did my usual nightly pill-taking, tooth-brushing, reading-on-the-toilet (oh, please. LIKE YOU DON’T.) routine. At some point, while I was brushing my teeth, I glanced out into the bedroom and saw Fred get up out of bed and leave the room. I thought no more of it, and finished my routine. But when I was done and came out of the bathroom, Fred was nowhere to be seen. I decided he’d perhaps been overcome with the need for some kitten snuggling, so I went into the closet to change into my nightgown. I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it in the dirty clothes hamper, and then thought to myself “Wouldn’t it be just like Fred to be hiding in here to scare the shit out of me?” I glanced over my shoulder at the corner behind the closet door. It was empty, no one was there, and I turned back around to grab my nightgown. And as I turned around, a blast of air came from the corner of the closet opposite the one I’d looked at, and it scared me so badly that I screamed at the top of my lungs, threw my nightgown down on the floor, and ran in place while wildly flailing my arms around, all at the same time. That fucker WAS hiding in the closet, just not where I expected him to be. I guess I’m just lucky he didn’t have the video camera with him. * * * Andrew Vachss weighs in on the Michael Jackson trial. Speaking of Vachss, I’m a little leery of this new book he’s got coming out. I mean, “an epic story of postwar America”? Eh. I’d much rather see another Burke novel. On a side note, I read the Amazon interview with Andrew Vachss and discovered that one of the characters in his new book is named Walker Dett. An homage to Detta Walker? It’s gotta be. * * * From my comments: Once again i have to ask…are you SURE you’re going to be able to give up those babies? It’s going to be hard as hell, but I think of it this way: If I beg Fred to let me keep Oy (or Edgar, or Flossie… or all of them!), he will never ever let me have foster kittens again, ever. And I want to be able to do it again, so I’m going to have to just do it. It’ll help to know that they’ll definitely all be going to really good homes. I’m sure I’ll cry like a big baby when it’s time to take them to the pet store, but I can do it. I can. Really. (Yeah, I don’t believe me, either.) Is that still your evil nemesis laptop? Yeah, we still have the same laptop featured in this entry. I don’t know exactly what it is, just that it’s a Toshiba, and (at least at the time we bought it) it was the biggest kind you could get. That right there should let you know that Fred’s the one who picked it out, because if it had been up to me, I would have chosen a much smaller (and lighter) laptop. (Edited to add: Fred says it’s a Toshiba Satellite. This one is a little bit faster than ours, but otherwise it’s pretty much the same.) The laptop doesn’t get a whole lot of use, but on days when I need to spend time away from my computer – such as, spending the entire day in a room with cats waiting for one of them to poop – it really comes in handy. Last year when we went to Gatlinburg for Memorial Day weekend, we brought it with us and it came in handy because we can watch DVDs on it. I always consider taking it to Maine with me, but I prefer to have to carry as little luggage around with me as possible, and knowing me I’d leave it on the plane. Here’s a question you may/may not want to address in your journal one day: Keeping in tune with all the kitty questions, share with us which kitty likes which person the best and how do you know he/she does? I would say that Mister Boogers likes Fred best, judging by the looks o’ love he’s always giving Fred, and Miz Poo likes me best, judging by the fact that she MUST be on top of me 24 hours a day. Spot and Spanky pretty much like us all equally, though Spanky does like to climb up on me and lay there at night or when I’m laying in bed talking on the phone. Also, if Mister Boogers feels the desperate need for love and Fred isn’t around, I’ll do in a pinch, and Miz Poo will look to Fred for love when I’m not around. Also, since you’ve put up the comments page for us, do you find that you get fewer emails asking you questions regarding the day’s entry? Yeah, they’ve dropped off quite a bit since I allowed comments, though I do still have about 20 emails to respond to, and the majority of them are asking questions about or making comments about an entry. I’m horrible at responding to email unless you’re related to me – or Nance or Jane – but I do read them as soon as I get them. I swear I’ll respond to them soon. I swear it! This is off the topic of your post, but still important I think! I want to know when you are Fred are going to put all your technological know how and I’m sure amusing banter together and have a podcast for your many fans to listen to! Go to www.podcastalley.com and listen to a few, and I’m sure you guys will agree you can do better. So, when is the podcast coming? Hmmm? I would say that the podcast will be coming right around the time hell freezes over. 🙂 * * * Now for some excellent links, found in my comments: you must check out this cat – funniest thing ever! Winston Stuff on my cat. Apologies if you’ve already seen it. I giggled my arse off at the pics. Hey, I remembered you posting about Napoleon Dynamite a while bag (tater tots – the randomness) and wondered if you had seen this link. You can learn to do the dance number!! They are SO cute! We have four kittens right now, they are 3 1/2 weeks old, that look a lot like yours!I have pics of ours from day one on my blog, but you might have to search the April archives to find them all. Our kitties were born April 24th (and how AWESOME that our mama kitty is so young she wanted me RIGHT THERE the whole delivery time. (Hey, our kittens were born on April 24th, too!) * * * The section with the kittens. Today’s kitten movie is here. I call it “Fight Club 2”, ’cause it’s mostly a movie of the kittens fighting. At one point you can see my chubby little hand come into the picture as I decide Peanut needs some saving, and I think I probably talk to him and kiss him a lot, because I always do. I mean, really. How can you NOT kiss them? New movie when I get around to it. We’ll be giving the kittens their deworming medicine tonight, and weighing them at the same time. I swear to god, Snoopy is getting so big he’s probably gained a pound in the last week. If they’re all within a few ounces of two pounds, I’ll be calling the vet tomorrow to make an appointment for spaying and neutering. (Is it wrong that I’m kind of hoping they’re not all close enough to two pounds?) Miss Flossie and my foot. Miss Flossie surrenders to the belly rub. Porky and the laptop. “Okay, you go to the blue litter box – you’ll know it when you see it – and take a left. Go about three hops and stop for some vittles at the food bowl, and then you can’t miss it.” “Good christ, people. Why won’t you just let me SLEEP?” Kittens checking out the cord that connects the mouse to the laptop. Sleepy kitties. Damn she’s cute.]]>

“Look, we’re trying to eat. Just eat. We’re not doing anything particularly cute, we’re not licking ourselves or yawning or biting each other, just eating. Could you stop flashing that flashy thing at us? I don’t want to have to kick your ass BUT I WILL.”]]>

reading: Magical Thinking, by Augusten Burroughs. I’m actually enjoying it a little more than Running With Scissors. Finished last night: Between Sisters. Whoo, didn’t I cry like a great big baby toward the end. Good book; I’d definitely call it chick lit, though (I’m adding that just so those of you who don’t like chick lit don’t go out and buy it).

* * * So, that Michael Jackson thing; what a production, eh? I had no idea the jury had come back with a verdict until Liz called and told me – in the course of telling me other things – that they were going to read the verdict at 4:30 eastern time. I turned it over to CNN while we were talking and watched the motorcade, then Fred got home and I paused the TV and we went upstairs to talk. Then he went off on his hike, and I went in and played with the kittens, and I got back downstairs around 4:15ish, and they still hadn’t read the verdict. They did so while I was making dinner, and I was both very surprised and not surprised at all. Because, to be honest, I didn’t pay any attention to the trial while it was going on, so I have no idea what evidence they had or how it was presented, or anything. I called Fred to tell him what the verdict was, and he paused and then said “Well, except for Martha Stewart, rich white women never go to jail!” It took me a minute to get it. Duh. So I called Liz back and we talked for a few more minutes, and I reminded her that back in the day when the verdict came back on the not-guilty OJ Simpson, I’d been watching the news coverage, and as soon as the verdict was announced, my phone rang and it was Liz on the other end, saying “Can you believe this?”, and half a second later my call waiting beeped, and it was Debbie, and she said “Can you believe this?” Which was a big thing, actually, because for the longest time Debbie didn’t think OJ had done it and we’d made fun of her in a big way for that, but toward the end of the trial she came to believe that he had done it. Yeah, I think OJ did it. Do I think Michael Jackson molested that boy? I don’t know. I think he probably did. I also think that the result of this trial is only going to encourage him to have young boys sleep in his house and bed, and no one’s going to be able to convince him that it’s a bad idea. And in the future, should any young boys claim that Michael Jackson molested them, I think that their parents should be tossed in jail without a second thought. I mean, how fucking stupid would you have to be to let your child anywhere near that man? They will, though. Because people are fucking idiots. * * * When I got the Dyson for my birthday two years ago, I also got a large packet of this stuff called Zorb carpet maintenance powder. I put it in the closet and left it there until yesterday, when I was looking for something – or actually, I think I was putting away the spray bottle of The Works I bought at Wal-Mart two weeks ago – and I saw it. I took it down and looked at it, and thought about it, and then decided I’d give it a try on the carpet in the living room. The carpet in the living room, I should tell you, is Berber carpet, and I loathe it with every fiber of my being. There’s a spot near the couch and loveseat where Fred knocked over a huge cup of iced tea a while back, and I’ve gone over it and over it and OVER IT with the steam cleaner, and cannot get the stain to come up. At first it looks like the stain is gone, but then the carpet dries and the stain is very clearly still there. Also, the carpet in front of the loveseat and couch, where we sit every night, is matted and dirty from our dirty, dirty feet, and no amount of steam cleaning will get that up, either. We were SUPPOSED TO get new carpet for the living room back when we got our tax refund, but we spent it all on the TV WE DID NOT NEED, and somehow when it comes to buying something so that the house will look like less of a shithole, well, that seems to somehow mysteriously not happen. It’s a good thing for him he’s so damn cute, that’s all I’ll say. So anyway, I brought the packet of Zorb downstairs, and I opened it, and sprinkled it all over the living room carpet, then groomed it into the carpet (as far as I could tell from the instructions on the back, you “groom” the Zorb powder – which is damp, by the way – into the carpet by running your vacuum cleaner (turned off) over it, which spreads it out and kind of pushes it into the carpet). I set the timer for 45 minutes, and when it went off I vacuumed the powder back up. Honestly, I couldn’t really tell if the Zorb had made any difference in the cleanliness of the carpet. I thought for a while that it did, but then we were sitting and eating our evening snacks in front of the TV, and Fred dropped 63 pieces of popcorn on the carpet, and I had to kill him, and now there’s a great big blood stain where the dirt was. (No, not really) I think I’d like to give the Zorb a try on regular carpet and see if I can tell any difference. * * * The section about the foster cats. I was going to tell y’all something about the kittens, but for the life of me I can’t remember what it was. Hmm. I went into the cat room after I worked out this morning, and let me tell you – apparently kittens REALLY like the smell (and taste) of sweat. They practically knocked me down so they could sniff me all over, and Snoopy climbed up onto my shoulder and buried his face in my sweaty hair and purred like mad. Flossie and Snoopy licked behind my knees, and Edgar sniffed my feet until his mouth hung open. Hey, at least it was fresh sweat, and not stinky old sweat! Grumpy Edgar. Snoopy grooms himself in the condo, while Oy and Edgar snooze on top. Flossie just loves to snuggle up with my feet, sit next to my feet, sit on my feet, and sit next to my feet with her paws on them. I think she has a foot fetish. Sleeping Peanut. They caught a mouse! Every time I would grab the mouse to use it, Flossie would come running to steal it away from me. Oh, I remember what I was going to say about the kittens. Jane, who is a know-it-all, said back when we first got the kittens, (something like) “Why bother to give them names? You’ll just immediately give them names like Mister Boogers.” Well, she’s right. I’m starting to give the kittens nicknames. I can’t help it! Oy is becoming “Little Man”, Snoopy is becoming “Piggy” (I swear to god, that cat would eat lint if you put a bowl of it in front of him), Flossie is becoming “Miss Prissy” and Edgar is becoming “Eggs” or “Eggie”, and Peanut is becoming “Pinochle.” (Shaddup) Today’s cat movie is here. I call it “Fight Club”, because all those little kittens do is fight, fight, fight. New movie tomorrow, then I’m all out of kitten movies. Guess I’ll need to take the camera back upstairs, eh? * * * Spanky in mid-lick. ]]>

reading: Between Sisters, by Kristin Hannah. Finished over the weekend: Running With Scissors, by Augusten Burroughs. I enjoyed it, but I wasn’t overcome with hilarity and mirth like I’d expected to be. Maybe I just wasn’t in the right mood for it. Definitely worth reading, but don’t hurt yourself to get a copy.

* * * So, after sitting in the cat room all fucking day long on Friday, that damn Mia didn’t poop at all. AT ALL. When 3:00 came and went, I said to Fred, “Fuck this” and we went out to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. When we came back there was still no poop, and I sat in the room for another ten minutes before I gave up, told Fred we’d just start her on the metronidazole, and I’d try again on Monday to get a sample, if she was still having diarrhea. She had diarrhea all weekend long (you weren’t eating, were you?), and what pisses me off the most about the diarrhea is that she uses the litter box, then she tromps through the pile of diarrhea, and then tracks it across the floor, shaking her shit-laden back legs the entire way. I’m surprised I haven’t had a stroke yet. Anyway, she had diarrhea all weekend long, so I resigned myself to hanging out in the cat room all day today in an attempt to get a sample, and I only had to wait about an hour. I got the sample (barf) and ran it to the vet. They said that they’d call if anything showed up, and if they didn’t call, there was nothing in the sample. They haven’t called yet, so I’m thinking there may have been nothing there. Or maybe there was something there, and the metronidazole killed it? Oh, I don’t fucking know. Fucking cats. After she’d tromped through her shit and tracked it all over the room – with me, right behind her, wiping it up as fast as I could – I had to leave the room because I was getting so fucking stressed out. I went into the bedroom, where Fred was reading, and I said “I love and adore those kittens, but I have NO USE for Mia. God, she’s a pain in the ass!” I do love those damn kittens, though. Except when Mia’s hunkered over pooping, and they try to STICK THEIR STUPID LITTLE HEADS DIRECTLY IN THE STREAM OF POO. Gives a whole new meaning to the term of endearment “Shithead”, doesn’t it? * * * I woke up this morning with a swollen left eyelid. It’s not as swollen now as it was when I first woke up, but it’s still painful to the touch. A little itchy from time to time, too. If it ain’t one thing, it’s a-fucking-nother. * * * Fred was gone all day Saturday, and I dug through the pile of crap (not literally, thankyou) on my desk to find the Netflix movies that had been sitting there for at least two weeks. I’d declared to him that I was going to spend all day watching movies, and I certainly did. First, I watched The Terminal – which did not suck as badly as people have been proclaiming. In fact, I have to say that I almost liked it. I don’t necessarily want to see it again, but I don’t resent the time spent watching it. Then, I watched Indecent Proposal, which I’ve seen before and wanted to see again. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t that good, either. I spent about half the movie reading a magazine and looking up to see what was going on from time to time. Lastly, I watched Fame. Just because. Shaddup. I had to play the part at the end where Montgomery Macneil sang his part of The Body Electric for Fred, because it cracks me up to no end that the same actor who played sensitive gay boy Montgomery also played hardass-with-a-deeply-buried-heart-of-gold Dr. Romano on ER. My only complaint about Fame is that there should have been more dancing. You know what would be cool? If they put Fame, the TV series, out on DVD. I’d be buying that so fast your head would spin. I loved that show like you wouldn’t believe. Then Sunday, Fred went out and picked up some movies. We watched about the first hour of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zisou before we turned it off because we were both falling asleep. Then we watched The Passion of the Jew – South Park always cracks us up – and Christian Rock Hard, which is on the same DVD. Last night, we watched Employee of the Month, which Fred had picked up on a whim. It was actually pretty good, though the twists at the end were a little annoying, because there were so many of them. Gotta love Steve Zahn. Tonight, we’ll probably watch last night’s episode of Entourage, and last week’s episode of House, with maybe a few episodes of Yes, Dear and/ or South Park tossed in there as well. Yes. Yes, Virginia, we ARE couch potatoes. * * * I took a Benadryl this morning before I left for the pet store, and so I wasn’t itchy at all while I was there, but it still made me a bit lightheaded, so perhaps next week I’ll cut the dose in half. When I got home, I went out into the back yard to fill the bird feeders – which have been empty for the last few weeks, because I’m a lazy-ass – and when I came back inside, I was itching like mad, mostly on my face. It’s mostly gone away, but for a while there it was driving me crazy. Clearly I’m allergic to something in the back yard, but I have no idea what it is. Perhaps the humidity? Because it is MIGHTY FUCKING HUMID out there. Humid? In the south? Go figure. * * * Over the weekend, I took Snoopy, Oy, and Peanut out of the cat room – not all at the same time – to “go visiting”. This consists of being held by me while they sniff our cats, then letting them crawl around on our bed. As of yet, Mister Boogers has not been impressed. He goes all dark-eyed and sniffs them thoroughly, but he makes me nervous when he gets dark-eyed like that, so I haven’t let him get too close. Miz Poo hissed at Peanut last night, and Peanut responded by hissing back at her. Neither of them was too impressed with the other. My current favorite kitten is Oy. I hope Oy is adopted by someone who appreciates what a sweet, feisty little guy he is. Mia and Flossie are quite interested in the laptop. Especially the mouse. Sleepy Snoopy. The expression on Oy’s face cracks me up. “How YOU doin’?” Oy stretches. The trick to getting a kitten to snuggle with you is to wait until he’s very, very sleepy, and then pick him up and snuggle him in your arms. “First they nurse all the damn time, then they fall asleep on me. Damn kittens.” ]]>

* * * Reason number 69,298,984 why I married that man: We were laying bed talking last night, and I said something of a sexual-innuendo nature, and waited for Fred to say something. There was a long, lengthy silence. I assumed he was looking for something smartass to say, and then I started to wonder if he’d fallen asleep. Finally, I turned to face him. “Are you there, Margaret?” I said. And with no hesitation whatsoever and a voice filled with wonder, he said “God?” That man sure can make me laugh.

* * * Thirty minutes later, the goddamn cat still hasn’t shat. Every single other day of the week, she shits like every ten seconds. Today, she can’t be bothered. “Yeah, no, sorry. I don’t gotta go. Pardon me while I bite at the ears and belly of this feisty little shithead I birthed out of mine own body and who thinks he can kick my ass, mm’kay?” I love the little bastardly kitties, but they are ripping my legs to shreds. If she doesn’t poop AND SOON, I don’t know what I’m going to do. Send happy poopin’ thoughts this way, if you would. * * * I just got extremely excited by the fact that she went over to the litter box, but she only had to pee out that entire gallon of water she drank an hour ago. Psyche! Did you know that it’s correctly spelled “Psyche!” and not “Sike!”? No, I’m sorry, I don’t give a happy goddamn what Urban Dictionary says. It’s “psyche.” When you spell it “sike”, you make my eyes bleed. * * * 1:00 pm and no shit. NO SHIT. I never thought I’d see the day when I was praying for shit. My butt hurts from sitting on the floor. I stretched out to take a nap but then Oy, who had been sleeping atop the condo with Edgar, came a-visitin’. And then Fred, who brought his car home at 10:30 so he could leave it in the driveway with the doors open in case there actually is a snake in there, so the snake could get out, called to see if it was raining here. It wasn’t, but about three minutes after he called the sky started looking nasty, so I scooped Oy up and took him downstairs and outside with me. He was very good, just sat on my shoulder and looked around. Miz Poo was sitting on the table when we came back inside, and I bent over so she and Oy could sniff each other. To my amazement, she did NOT hiss. What the hell is up with that? Perhaps it’s a sign that we need to keep Oy! (No, not really.) * * * I just ran downstairs to close the cat window (it started raining like hell) and uploaded a few kitten pictures so I can get this entry uploaded, and I hoped against hope that Mia had used the litterbox in the five minutes while I was gone, but NO HOPE, DAMNIT. Peanut’s trying to nurse and Mia keeps pushing him away. Heh. Poor Peanut! Don’t I wish I’d brought my camera back upstairs with me. Oh crap. Edgar just woke up peeping (which is what I call the little crying noise the kittens make, shaddup), and ran over to Mia, and then Flossie ran out of the carrier where she was sleeping, and Mia flopped over, and now Flossie, Edgar, and Peanut are wildly trying to nurse. Mia’s not happy, but she’s not fighting them off, either. Damn I wish I had my camera. Nobody but NOBODY uses the litterbox in Kitten Town without supervision. Sheriff Snoopy makes sure the law is enforced. They might be tiny little fangs, but they REALLY HURT when they’re being used on your fingers. Couldn’t you just squeeze him ’til his guts shot out his nose? Meester Fang strikes again. Mia checks the cleanliness of Oy’s butt. I think this is the cat version of your mother asking if you’re wearing clean underwear. Is it just me, or does he kinda look like a bat? I guess I’m going to go ahead and post this stupid entry. It’s 1:38 and Mia STILL HAS NOT POOPED, DAMNIT. Send happy poopin’ thoughts to North Alabama, if you would. I’ll see y’all on Monday. * * * Spot. He lurves the sun. ]]>

* * * Currently reading: Running with Scissors. I’ve heard good things about it. (And before you recommend Magical Thinking and Dry – I’ve already got them, I just haven’t read them yet. I read Sellevision a while back, and enjoyed it.) Finished last night: Sushi for Beginners. Am the only one who gets close to the end of the book and gets a little worried, thinking “There are only a few pages left; there’s NO WAY they’re going to wrap up all the storylines in that amount of space!”? Somehow they always do, and yet I still worry.

* * * Favorite song of the moment: Blake Shelton’s remake of Conway Twitty’s Goodbye Time. I’m not a huge Blake Shelton fan – though he’s certainly nice to look at (and I don’t usually much care for men with long hair) – but his version of this song is a heartbreaker. * * * From my comments: Hey Robyn, I was just surfing and found this cool quiz. It reminded me of you instantly. Hey after all those meme’s, you need a quiz break! EVIL. Now everybody go take it. …I began wondering if you had been quarry swimming yet this season. Then I wondered how the fish got INTO the quarry. Were they brought there by the park rangers? Were there streams feeding into the quarry? Were carp a natural American species or had they been planted or dumped by bored pond owners? Nope, we haven’t been to the quarry yet. It was kind of cool out up until about this time last week, so I have a feeling the quarry water is still pretty cold right now. Perhaps we’ll start going in a few weeks. As for the fish got into the quarry, I have no idea. Good question! Do you like Dean Koontz books? He’s very popular, but I don’t like his style. Yeah, we read Dean Koontz and like him. Right now Fred’s reading his latest (which I gave him for his birthday) and apparently it’s slow going at the beginning of the book, but will hopefully pick up. As I was watching “Momma Love” (which was adorable), it occurred to me – if the kitties at the pet store make you itchy, does playing with the kittens do the same thing? No, for some reason the kittens don’t make me itchy. I’m not sure why the pet store cats make me itchy but the kittens don’t. Maybe because I’m always cleaning in there and there isn’t that much dander and cat hair flying around? Or maybe kittens don’t have as much hair and dander as grown cats? Either way, I’m sure glad I don’t itch the way I do at the pet store! Which reminds me, I have about three weeks worth of pet store kitty pics to put up! Robyn, OMG! Did you watch Dancing With the Stars? So campy and yet, surprisingly, pretty good. When did Joey McIntyre become a guy? A man? And he’s still pretty hot. No, we missed that! Actually, I don’t think I could have talked Fred into watching that, and I didn’t think to tape it. We did catch Hit Me Baby One More Time last week, though. Good lord, was THAT ever a waste of time. Talk about your cheesefest. I did set up to tape that every week, though, because we SERIOUSLY want to see Vanilla Ice. Heh. BTW — have you seen the new Star Wars movie? Plan to? Haven’t seen it, but I’m sure I will at some point. I still haven’t watched the last one yet – rumor has it, it sucked – but I don’t think I missed much, and since I rarely have any idea what’s going on in these movies, I probably won’t go out of my way to watch #2 before I see this one. I SO want to come over and play with the kittens. Do they do the sideways/straight up in the air PING at each other when they play? They do now! It’s funny, when we first got them, they could only walk, and slowly at that. Now, they bounce around the room like little rubber balls, chase each other, and pounce on toys. They crack me up in a big way. Robyn, I love your hair colour. Do you know what they used? I have no idea. Something she mixed in the back room, is about all I can tell you! Have YOU tried the new diet coke that has SPLENDA in it? It taste like… well I cant think of anything witty and fun but it tastes B A D and I am not a pepsi fan but oddly I am digging the cherry diet pepsi and diet pepsi with lime. and Hey Robyn! Since I know you’re a Diet Coke lovin’ fiend like myself, I thought I’d tell you about the new Diet Coke with splenda that has recently come out. (If I’m telling you something you already know, please forgive me…) It tastes like real coke, and I’m loving it!!! I know Target was carrying it around here (outside Philadelphia, PA) and now I’m seeing it in my local grocery stores. Just thought I’d share the info with ya in case you’re interested. and a question: Have you tried the Diet Coke with Lime? And if so, what did you think? I was skeptical, on account of the fact that the Diet Coke with Lemon (and the Diet Pepsi with Lemon) were hideous, but I absolutely have fallen in love with the Diet Coke. Fred finally found one single, solitary bottle of Diet Coke with Splenda at the grocery store a couple of weeks ago. He poured a cup and brought it upstairs WHERE I WAS SLEEPING and gave it to me to try. It was good, but my LORD the aftertaste was a killer. I know that the regular Diet Coke has an aftertaste, but I’ve gotten so used to it that I don’t taste it anymore. The Splenda aftertaste was pretty unpleasant, but I’m sure that if I gave it a try and drank only Diet Coke with Splenda, I’d get used to the aftertaste. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to switch or not. I’m pretty attached to my regular Diet Coke. As for the Diet Coke with lime, Fred bought a bottle of it last weekend – maybe the weekend before – and I gave it a try, but didn’t really care for it. I guess I’m just a plain ol’ Diet Coke person, and not a Diet Coke with Lemon or Lime person. Hey Robyn, ever try soy ice cream? I find it tastes just like regular ice cream, but is much healthier. I especially like So Good chocolate, yummy!! Nope, I never have. Only because I’m supposed to stay away from soy products due to my thyroid issues. You do make it sound good, though! Robyn, I also have the Sony DSC-V1. It’s my first digital camera and I do like it, but I don’t think I have the hang of it yet. Do you change the settings when you’re taking certain pictures, or do you just leave all that alone? What do you have your settings on? I find the shutter lag frustrating because I’m so used to an SLR, but I think that’s par for the course with any digital camera. And suggestions/tips are greatly appreciated! The only setting I change on a regular basis is to use the “tulip” setting when I’m taking up-close pictures, and to turn the flash on and off. The shutter lag drives me crazy, too, and I’ve missed out on many a good picture due to it. The waiting for the flash to be ready drives me crazy as well, and the only thing I’ve figured out about that is that if you set the image size smaller (I use the largest possible image size), the flash “recovers” faster. Hope that helps. 🙂 How old is the Boog now? What about your other kitties? Oh lord, let me think, here… Spanky is going to be nine years old this Fall (Fred got him for me the first Christmas I was here), which seems impossible, because I remember when he was a tiny kitten with diarrhea, tromping through his litter box, getting poop on his back feet, and squalling at the top of his lungs when I tried to clean him off. Spot’s a few years older, so he’s 10 or 11 – probably 11. Miz Poo, I got the day before Thanksgiving the first year I had this journal, so that makes her… five and a half, six this Fall. Mister Boogers is about two, maybe a little older. Everytime I read about Mr. Boogers I think of my dad’s friend’s secretary who would answer the phone and if her boss couldn’t come to the phone she would say with a very thick accent, “Meeher Gomez, he beesy.” So when I read Mr. Boogers was nowhere to be found I instantly thought, “Meeher Booogers, he beesy.” I have actually taken to saying this, if you can believe it. If I call for Mister Boogers and he doesn’t come, I look at Miz Poo (who’s always RIGHT THERE) and say “Meeher Booogers, he beesy.” She doesn’t quite appreciate the humor. How strange is it that I dont really know you, except that I read your journal every day..but I saw something in a catalog the other day that made me think of you. I thought I would share. (Link) I think this really belongs in your house. Maybe get one for every room. I bet the cats would have a great time. I completely agree – I think we need at least one, if not several! I don’t know where we’d put them, though. There’s not a single surface in this house where the cats can’t get to, the little bastards. * * * The kitten section. I swear to god, I scooped five pounds of stuff out of the litter boxes this morning. I switched from clay litter to scoopable litter last weekend, because the kittens have stopped eating the litter and I find scoopable easier to deal with. It’s harder to vacuum up with the hand-held vacuum, but I can deal with that. Mia has diarrhea, and we originally thought it might be from caring for the babies (ugh). It hasn’t gone away even though the babies are using the litter box exclusively now, so I’m giving her deworming medication in case that’s what the problem is. But for now, every friggin’ time Mia goes into the litter box, Snoopy is RIGHT THERE. Apparently Mia’s not allowed to use the litter box without his supervision. And then, when she’s done, half the time he climbs into the litter box, tromps through what she’s left there, and stumbles out of the damn litter box with poop-covered back feet. I do my best to wipe him down with a baby wipe, but he doesn’t much care for that. Which doesn’t stop me, but it’s surprising how quickly a bastardly little kitten can wriggle away if he wants to. Yesterday, he had poop on his ear. I don’t even want to know how that happened. Today’s movie is here. It’s a fairly short one, but I inadvertently scared a kitten when I moved my leg, and got the reaction on tape – keep an eye on the right side of the movie for the last half, and you should see it. New movie tomorrow. No one’s allowed to use the litter box without supervision. IT’S THE LAW OF KITTYTOWN. Fred was following Edgar around, and Edgar was skeered, and so he hissed. Mean Fred. You know? I just don’t know. Perhaps he was reenacting his birth. Snoopy atop the platform thingy. He is the KING of the PLATFORM. Poor long-suffering Mia. Fred was following Flossie around, and FLOSSIE got skeered, so she hissed, too. I wonder if there’s anything LESS threatening than a hissing kitten. Snoopy in da condo. Oy reaches for a toy. * * * Da Boog. Hee! ]]>

Be Cool yesterday – after trying to return movies to the wrong movie store; talk about feeling like a dumbass – and we watched it last night. It was a good movie, though it felt a tad too long. I’m happy, though – I got to make my “Twinkle, twinkle, baby! Twinkle, twinkle!” wav and have it set up so that whenever I get email, it plays. I’m sure I’ll get tired of it at some point, but right now it makes me giggle like the fool I am. That girl who played Linda Moon – Christina Milian – is just cute as a button. I was positive she had to be a singer I had heard of before, but her name isn’t familiar to me. She has an awesome set of pipes, though. The Rock was hilarious, and when Fred was looking through the extras he found that there was an entire video of The Rock singing You Ain’t Woman Enough to Take My Man. Lordy, it was AWFUL, but funny as hell.

* * * Fred is currently in the process of being approved for a security clearance, because apparently those in charge of your tax dollars feel that after he’s been doing the same job for 13 years, it’s time that they do a background check. He met with the background investigator yesterday and called to tell me that the investigator told him that he’d need to meet with me to ask me some questions. Apparently they usually forgo meeting with the spouse and family of the person being investigated, since obviously there’s some bias there, but they have to have a certain number of “social contacts” when they do an investigation, and since Fred’s daily social contacts outside of work consist of me, me, and – oh yeah! – me, the investigator needed to talk to me. I was on my way home from Sam’s when the investigator called on my cell phone, and we made plans to meet at the house at 2. I was just finishing lunch at 1:45 when he arrived. We sat down at the table, and he asked me questions for fifteen minutes or so and I answered them. The first question? How we met, and how our relationship progressed from then to now. And I suddenly got extremely nervous and began to sweat AND THEN COULDN’T REMEMBER OUR ANNIVERSARY FOR AN ENTIRE MINUTE. I did this frantic mental dance where I was all “Did we get married in March? June? December? WHEN? WHEN?” At some point – I think the question was about how reliable Fred is – I yammered on and on about how we’d been watching White Noise Saturday night, and Michael Keaton’s wife (character’s wife, that is) went out with a friend and midnight came and went and he was mildly concerned, and Fred turned to me and said “We must be weird. If you were, like, TEN minutes late, I’d be worried.” and I said “I’d be worried if YOU were ten minutes late, too.” Because he’s so good about letting me know where he is and when he’ll be home, you see. And I finished up the story with “Because he’s always where he says he’ll be, and if he’s going to be late, he calls.” By this time the investigator’s eyes had glazed over, and he was clearly thinking “This has WHAT to do with reliability?” and he pretended to write down what I’d said, but clearly was writing something like No wonder he has no other social contacts. His wife cannot be let out into polite society because she is clueless about how to answer a simple question, and so he must spend all his time keeping an eye on her stupid ass. But all in all, it wasn’t too traumatic, and he was only here for about fifteen minutes. At the end of the interview (“He’s fleein’ the interview!”), we had a short discussion about whether our neighbors would be home – they have to speak to our neighbors on either side of us, you see, the ones with whom we’ve traded about ten words total in the 3 1/2 years we’ve lived here – and I pointed to one side of the house and said “She might be home, I’m not sure what her schedule is like”, and he said “What’s her name?”, and I had to say “I have no idea.” I should have added, “But their dog’s name is Bruiser!” * * * So as I mentioned up there somewhere, I went to Sam’s yesterday. And did you feel the earth shift on it’s axis? Because for the FIRST TIME EVER, I walked out of there having spent less than $100. I’m still a little dazed and shocked. Who knew that you could get a bunch of bottled water, a big-ass box of Splenda, and a pack of sponges for less than $100? WHAT A BARGAIN. * * * The kitten section. You know why we’re not going to keep any of the foster kittens? Because there is NO WAY ON EARTH I could pick just one or even just two of them. Every time I think I’ve got a favorite, another one does something that just steals my heart. Today, my favorite is Oy. He comes over to me, bites my hand until I roll him over onto his back, and then kicks his legs while I rub his belly. He loves to pretend he hates the belly rubs, but he keeps on coming back for them. The other kittens have fur that feels like cotton balls, but Oy’s is soft and silky. Also, Oy is one of the two kittens (Snoopy being the other one) that has purred when I held him. He doesn’t purr every time, and he doesn’t purr for long, but he does purr. And then I see Flossie’s worried little face, and I think “She is just unbearably cute. SHE’s my favorite.” And so on. Peanut, doing the cute-n-cuddly thing. These kittens just adore my feet. I have no idea what’s up with that. Flossie, being chewed upon by Edgar. Oy, taken by surprise. Sleepy little Snoopy. Three seconds after I snapped this picture, he struggled out of my arms and bounced across the room to sink his teeth into Flossie’s belly. Oy. Everything surprises him. Oy, playing with his very favorite toy. These plastic rings were probably the best investment I’ve ever made. “Awww, Momma, come down! We’ll be good! I won’t bite your tail again, I promise!” Today’s movie is here. I call it “Momma Love.” There’s a weird jump in the middle where I screwed something up, but it’s hardly noticeable. I’m such an ace filmmaker. New movie up tomorrow. * * * Is there anything happier than a Spanky in the sunshine? I think NOT. ]]>

* * * You know, I have wondered in the past who Deep Throat was, and I was pretty excited when the story broke last week. But I have to say that I always hoped that the truth would be… well, a little more exciting than it’s turning out to be. Yawnsville.

* * * Meme, seen every-damn-where. 1. Are you happy today? I am. I love this crazy, tragic, sometimes almost magic, awful, beautiful life. 2. What is your occupation? Professional slacker. 3. What are you listening to right now? The traffic on the road behind our house, Miz Poo snoring, and the foster kittens racing around in the room over my head. You’d think they wouldn’t make much noise, since they’re so light, but they make a surprising amount of noise. 4. What was the last thing you ate? A tablespoon of Udo’s Choice Oil Blend. Before that, a small bowl of Cheerios. 5. Do you wish on stars? Rarely. I did when I was a kid. As I recall, I wanted to have the magic powers of Isis. Hasn’t happened yet, THAT I’M AWARE OF. 6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Bright yellow, of course. 7. How is the weather right now? It’s overcast and threatening to rain. I want my sunny days back! 8. Last person you spoke to on the phone? Fred. 9. Do you like the person you stole this from? I don’t remember who I stole it from. Lynda, maybe? Yeah, I like Lynda. She’s a peach! 10. How old are you today? 37. I had to sit and stare into space for like fifteen seconds before I remembered. Gah. 11. Favorite drink? Diet Coke. Water. One or the other. 12. Favorite sport to watch? If I had to watch a sport, it’d be ice skating, but I don’t usually even bother to watch that. 13. Have you ever dyed your hair? Yeah, pretty regularly since I was in my mid-20s. If I were to let my hair grow out, I’d probably be more than half gray. I get my hair colored every six weeks. 14. Do you wear contacts? Yes. I want to get some colored contacts, though. I’d love to have blue eyes. 15. Pets? Bwah! Yeah, there are a FEW. Spot, Spanky, Miz Poo, Mister Boogers. Also, the fosterkitties. But they’re temporary. YES THEY ARE. God, I’m such a fucking dork for admitting this, but I had a dream that the shelter came and took the fosterkitties away because they were turning them over to another foster family so we wouldn’t get too attached (too late!), and I cried like a fucking baby. In the dream. Not in real life. I DID NOT WAKE UP TEARY-EYED. Shut up. 16. Favorite month? April or October. 17. Favorite food? Anything sugary. I’m surprised I don’t eat sugar straight, I’m such a sugar fiend. 18. What was the last movie you watched? We watched White Noise Saturday night. It was good, though a little bit stupid. We tried to watch Boogeyman after that, but it sucked so hard that we shut it off after 20 minutes. 19. Favorite day of the year? I don’t really have one. Maybe the day summer turns into Fall, and you walk outside and feel that crisp edge to the air. That always makes me feel nostalgic. 20. What do you do to vent anger? Swear extremely loudly. Fred’s never heard me do that. He thinks he has, but he hasn’t got a CLUE the volume I can reach when I’m really pissed off. 21. What was your favorite toy as a child? The only thing that comes to mind is a little Rudolph (the Red-Nosed Reindeer) toy that I had when I was very little. I loved that damn thing, but then one day we went shopping, and I left it somewhere and it was never seen again. ::sob!:: 22. Fall or spring? Both. 23. Hugs or kisses? Hugs. Definitely. 24. Cherry or Blueberry? Blueberry. I like the occasional cherry-flavored food, but I don’t like cherries themselves. I have no idea why. 25. Do you want your friends to email you back? I think so… why wouldn’t I? 26. When was the last time you cried? Watching the new LeAnn Rimes video, Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way. SHUT UP. I didn’t SOB or anything, I just got teary-eyed. SHUT UP, I say. 27. What is on the floor of your closet? Um. Carpet? Shoes? A hamper? Probably a cat or two. Mister Boogers likes to hang out in there. 28. Who is the friend you have had the longest nonstop? My sister, Debbie. We weren’t really friends when we were kids, but we are now! 29. What did you do last night? Watched TV. We watched Entourage (taped Sunday night), an episode of Yes, Dear (shaddup, we like it), and Hell’s Kitchen, which is an awesome show. I have to say, though, that when Gordon Ramsay says something nice it’s very disconcerting and disturbing. 30. Favorite smell? Cake. 31. What inspires you? Fuck this question. It’s too broad. 32. What are you afraid of? What I’m afraid of is so deep and wide and broad that I couldn’t possibly begin to create a list that encompasses them all. Fuck this question, too. 33. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers? Cheese. I like cheese on my hamburgers. Some freakish freaks do not, but I do. 34. Favorite car? I’m really liking the new Mustang, actually. And it comes in yellow! Maybe I should aim for that when it’s time for me to get a new car, eh? 35. Favorite dog breed? VINCE! 36. Number of keys on your key ring? Four. That surprises me, I thought I had more. The key to my car, the key to Fred’s, my PO Box key, and the house key. 37. Favorite time of the day? 6 pm. 38. Favorite musical artist, band or group? Del Amitri. 39. What kind of bagel do you usually get and what do you put on it? Usually blueberry, and I almost always have peanut butter on it. 40. Do you now or have you ever had braces? I had braces when I was in second or third grade. They tightened them up the DAY before Thanksgiving. Needless to say, I wasn’t eating much turkey that year. 41. What is your middle name? Leslie. * * * The kitty section. When will these little monsters let me snuggle them? WHEN? All they want is to play, to jump on and bite each other, to have me rub their bellies while they kick and bite at me. They love to attack my feet and bite my toes (my own fault for not wearing socks, I guess), but snuggling? No. Not unless I happen to go in when they’ve just woken up, and then they’ll drape themselves over my legs and let me pet them, and Snoopy will even let me pick him up and kiss him, but that’s only for a short amount of time. Hmph. I made an excellent purchase at Target yesterday. They had the Shark Cordless Mini Hand Sweeper on clearance for $12.37. Mia has been kicking some serious litter all over the room, which necessitates boxing Mia and the babies up and taking them out of the room so that I can vacuum in there almost every other day. I wanted something I could use with them actually in the room that wouldn’t be as loud as the Dyson. I bought the Shark yesterday thinking that I could give it a try and if it was a piece of shit I’d just return it. It’s a pretty good little vacuum – I mean, it’s not powerful by any means, but it’s pretty quiet (though the babies don’t much care for it, but it also doesn’t scare them) and it picks up litter very well. Two thumbs up to the Shark! Today’s movie is here. I call it “Smackdown.” The kittens were not terribly impressed by the camera, and Flossie and Edgar needed to show it who the boss was. There’s about five seconds of dead air after Edgar goes between the bag of litter and the bucket of litter. I didn’t realize that was there until after I’d created the movie, and I’m not knowledgeable enough to go back and edit it out. One of these days I’ll get out the book and really figure out how to use this software, I swear it. Anyway, enjoy. It’s a big one, so right-click and save it to your hard drive, if you would. There’ll be a new movie up tomorrow. Oh, and if I recall correctly, my feet make an appearance in this movie. I am AWARE that I have horribly ugly feet and desperately need a pedicure. I DON’T NEED TO HEAR IT, THANKS. Peanut regards his paw. Snoopy, trying again to get that damn toy Fred likes to hold just out of reach. Mia gets high off the catnip-filled mouse. The Snoopsta. Edgar pops up to see what’s going on. Snoopy’s about to bite Peanut’s foot. In case you were wondering what was going on. Edgar looks a little crazy, here. I think he’s about to go into belly-rub overload. When the kittens get to be too much, Mia escapes where they can’t get to her. * * * The boys would like to hang out in the sun in the guest bedroom LIKE THEY USED TO, but that room has now been taken over by little yummy-smelling kittens. Mister Boogers would like to get his paws on a baby kitten, but he’s been stymied. Perhaps one day… ]]>

logo. Well, not so much “new”, because I’ve used it before – in January – but it’s such a summery-looking banner that I wanted to use it again. Thanks again to talented reader Beth for creating it!

* * * Apparently today is going to be a day of dumbassery for me. Dumbass things I have done today: * At 7:15 AM, in my car (which was located directly outside the bedroom window of the next door neighbor), I decided to wipe down my dusty dashboard, and when I reached for the farthest part of the dashboard, my boobs took it upon themselves to honk the horn. Really loudly. You better believe I threw that damn car into reverse and got the hell out of there. * Stepped on the tail of a most adorable kitten at the pet store. Talk about feeling like an asshole. * Smacked my head really, really hard on the corner of a cage at the pet store. That’s gonna leave a bruise. * Put Mister Boogers’ collar on him and opened the back door so the cats could go outside. Then opened the cat door. When I left the house to go to the pet store, I closed the back door, because I don’t like leaving the house with the door open. When I got home, I realized that although I’d opened the cat door, I hadn’t opened the window behind the cat door, which means that none of the cats who were outside could come inside. And further, the boy Fred called to mow and edge the lawn (for $23, and SO worth it) had arrived while I was gone, and while he was working on the lawn, left the gates open. Miz Poo was sitting frantically at the back door, eyes dark, and when she saw me she howled her fool head off. I ran to the cat door to open the window, and when I got back to the back door, Miz Poo had given up on me and was running wildly toward the shed. When I opened the door, she turned around and ran at me, howling all the while. A second later, Spanky came out from under the shed and hauled ass for the front door. I called for Mister Boogers, worried that he’d been so scared by the kid mowing the lawn that he’d jumped the fence, zap or no zap. Mister Boogers did not appear, and I put my shoes on to go check the other side of the shed, when he popped out from under the shed and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him. Poor terrorized kitties. Perhaps I need to just go the hell back to bed and call it a day before I trip over my own feet and crack my skull open on the floor and slowly bleed to death while the cats slurp up my blood, purring all the while. * * * Currently reading: Sushi for Beginners. Finished while Liz was here: The rest of the Margaret Maron Sigrid Harald books (I liked them – some of them more than others – but I have to say that I much prefer the Deborah Knott series), and Persepolis (good book, quick read – but I was surprised to find that it was a graphic autobiography. When I opened the book and found narrated drawings instead of text I rolled my eyes and thought “Oh, THIS is gonna suck…” but it was really well done). * * * So yes, Liz has come and gone. We had a good time while she was here, though she didn’t feel well a few nights. One night she went to bed at 8:00 and I didn’t see her again until noon the next day. I was just starting to wonder if she’d died in her sleep when she rolled out of bed. Tuesday, we drove to Nashville, attended the Grand Ole Opry, and spent the night. Quit rolling your eyes, goddamnit. It was a DAMN good show, and I hope to go back again. We also chose a pretty good hotel – the Radisson Opryland – and I highly recommend it. First, I’ll show you the pictures from the Grand Ole Opry, and then I’ll tell you a story that illustrates just what idiots Liz and I can be when we get together. Porter Wagoner. As Liz kept saying, “He’s old-school country!” Connie Smith. I had no idea who she was, and still don’t. She was a hoot and sang a bunch of songs I didn’t know. Shelly Fairchild wasn’t even listed in the program, so we weren’t expecting her. She totally kicked ass, though, and I’m thinking about buying her CD. When I saw Mel McDaniels’ name on the program, I said “Who the hell is that?”, but when he came out and started singing, I knew every single song he sang. Louisiana Saturday Night, Help Me Make it Through the Night, and – of course! – Baby’s Got Her Bluejeans On. He absolutely kicked ass. He rocked the house! Sherrie Austin is australian, did you know that? I had no idea. She’s also tiny, tiny, tiny. I had hoped she’d sing Jolene – which she recorded a few years back, and which I have on my very own computer – but she didn’t. She opted to sing Son of a Preacher Man instead, and I can’t complain. She kicked ASS. This cameraman spent the whole show wandering around the stage, and he was very distracting. Ignore the blurriness of this picture and note the fact that Darryl Worley is very clearly looking DIRECTLY AT ME, and he’s giving me A Look, the meaning of which escapes me. Perhaps the message he’s sending is “Are you going to stop taking blurry pictures and just enjoy the show, or what? Bitch?” Anyway, Darryl Worley – wait for it – ROCKED THE HOUSE. He sang the two songs he’s got out right now, Awful, Beautiful Life (love that song!), If Something Should Happen, and also Whistle Dixie, which is on his current album. If you ever happen to be in the Nashville area, I suggest you give the Grand Ole Opry a try. Sure, the average age of the attendees was about 73, but it was a truly awesome show. There are more Grand Ole Opry pictures here. * * * So, Liz and I got to our hotel around 4, checked in, and settled in to watch TV for a little while. The hotel provides a shuttle to the Grand Ole Opry show, which would pick us up around 6, so we had plenty of time to relax before we had to get ready to go. We headed down to the lobby a few minutes before 6, but before we went I noticed that we were extremely low on toilet paper, and had no replacement roll. “We need to call Housekeeping when we get back, and ask for more toilet paper,” I said to Liz. After the show, we had dinner at Applebee’s (I had my very first – and last – Cosmo ever. It tasted like cough syrup to me. I think perhaps I need to just accept the fact that I’m not a drinker, I don’t like the taste of any alcohol at ALL, and move on with my life.) and then walked back to our room. Naturally, as soon as we got back to the room, I had to pee, and used up the last of the toilet paper. “Hey, call down to Housekeeping and ask them for more toilet paper, will you?” I yelled to Liz. She did, and they said they’d send someone right up. We spent the next ten minutes giggling about how she should have said “We just had a big meal. We need that toilet paper STAT!” Housekeeping finally delivered our toilet paper, and I went into the bathroom and put it on the – what the fuck is that thing called? The roller thingy that you put the toilet paper roll on? Anyway, as I was setting up the toilet paper, I glanced into the toilet and saw a tissue sitting there. Since I can’t stand to have anything in the toilet, I hit the lever to flush. Only instead of flushing, the toilet water rose and rose and rose to the top of the toilet bowl, and then just kind of sat there, little pieces of tissue swirling around in the water. “Oh, Liz,” I said. “What did you DO?” “What?” she said immediately. “I didn’t do anything!” “The toilet’s plugged up! It was fine when I was in here earlier, and you’re the only one who’s used it since!” So I made her call housekeeping again and tell them that the toilet was clogged up. They sent someone up to fix it – I guess he snaked out the toilet, I was hiding in the corner with my face in a book so I wouldn’t have to see what was going on – and while he was in there fixing it, Liz hissed to me “At least there’s no poop in there!” Amen to that. * * * The section with the kittens. I forgot to mention this in my entry last week, but if you click on the “movie of the week” link over there in the sidebar under the “other” heading, there’s a short movie of the kittens playing. In addition, I’m going to put a movie up each day this week, but it’s only going to be up until I put the next movie up; once I put up a new movie, I’m taking the one from the day before down. Got it? Good. Go see today’s movie: Don’t Mess With Momma. It’s a longish one, so right-click and save it to your hard drive, mm’kay? In it, first Peanut and then Flossie take on Mia. The kittens are continuing to grow, as kittens do. We weighed them on Thursday, and to our surprise Snoopy’s now 1 pound, 9 ounces (he’s the heaviest, still), but Edgar’s the one who gained the most weight – he went from 15 1/4 ounces to 1 pound, 8 1/2 ounces. Oy’s still the smallest at 1 pound, 3 ounces, but he makes up for his lack of size by being a feisty little shit. They’re all feisty little shits, actually. If I want a few minutes of snuggling, I have to go in there when they’re all just waking up. Then Snoopy will let me hold him for a few minutes, and the other kittens snuggle up to my legs. Invariably, though, they start fighting and chasing each other around after a few minutes. If I could just bottle that energy… Poor Mia. She just wanted to hang out and be petted by me, but Peanut came wandering up to nurse, and Flossie climbed on top of her and rolled over. Snoopy, upon waking. Doesn’t he look sleepy? Yoga kitty! (Edgar) Flossie and Peanut get into it. Is it just me, or does Flossie look like a mouse here? She’s about to pounce, clearly. I have no idea what Peanut’s licking, here. Maybe the end of his tail? Hee! Look at the little Oy fangs!]]>