So, guess who’s had herself an online journal for ten years and two days now??
Hard to believe I started this site back in 1999, and have been writing here five days a week all that time.
I think it’s time to shut down. See yas.
I KID. I’m going nowhere.
Here’s to another ten years!
(I can only imagine how many cat pictures that’s going to include.)
I reformatted my computer this weekend. Well. I think you probably already know that I did nothing of the sort. I backed everything up to an external hard drive, and Fred reformatted my computer. He started it Saturday night before we headed to bed, and by the time I got up Sunday morning, everything was pretty much good to go. I just had to install iTunes, Avast! anti-virus, Open Office, Paint Shop Pro, and Quicken. Then copy everything back over from the external hard drive.
For the record, I have so many pictures that it took over 2 hours to copy them from my hard drive to the external hard drive, and another 2 hours to copy them back.
I really need to look through my pictures and delete some of the less awesome ones.
When we weren’t messing with my computer, we ran up to the flea market in Tennessee and bought a couple of big bags of apples (more Caramel-Apple Jam on the way!), then went to the flea market in Madison and puttered around. We actually bought a lot more stuff at the Madison flea market than in Tennessee – and most of what we bought was books. I went in there telling Fred that I have plenty of books and didn’t need any more, and came out with four paperback.
Could be worse, I suppose.
It was a pretty relaxing weekend, all in all. I wish I had any idea what the hell we did on Saturday…
Oh! Lisa came to visit! She got to snuggle the True Bloods (who were perfectly friendly – I always worry, when we have fosters who most of the time only see us, whether they’ll be friendly to new people) and the Wonkas (who climbed all over her and chewed on her shoe laces), and we talked about cats.
We discussed Bessie, one of The Seven. She’s been at the pet store, unadopted, for a long time now. Fred and I had decided that when the first four True Bloods go to the pet store, I’d bring Bessie home with me to give her some rest and relaxation.
And THEN I got an email from the shelter manager last night letting me know that she’d finally been adopted!
YAY!
Saturday night we watched Forrest Gump. My god, I love that movie. There are so many parts that make me cry – when Jenny prays that god will make her a bird. When Forrest says “Why don’t you love me, Jen-nay?” and “I’m not a smart man… but I know what love is.”, then goes to stand on the porch. When Jenny tells Forrest that he’s a father, and his whole face changes, and he says “Is he smart or is he…” (Agh, I’m tearing up just THINKING about it right now!) When he’s talking to Jenny’s gravestone and he says “He’s so smart, Jenny” and then “I miss you, Jenny…”
There are not a lot of movies I can stand to watch over and over again, but Forrest Gump is one of them. I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever get tired of that movie.
While we were going up into Tennessee yesterday morning, Fred noticed a guy going into the gas station across from the light where we were sitting.
“Hey, that guy only has one leg,” he pointed out.
(Yes, I’m aware that it is SOOOOOOOO politically incorrect to notice that there’s only one leg, everyone is the same and deserves to be treated the same, and cry me a fucking river, okay? We weren’t mocking. We were NOTICING.)
“He needs one of Lieutenant Dan’s magic legs,” I said.
“I was just thinking that.”
The True Bloods are just the total rulers of the house lately, it seems. They allow Fred to put them in their room at bedtime (not without some complaints, mind you), but the instant they hear my feet hit the floor in the morning, they’re demanding to be let out. They’ve completely taken over my desk (Miz Poo does not appreciate this development), and they follow me from room to room. If they sense that I’m cleaning out the litter boxes, they come running in to wait for me to finish so that they can then climb into the litter boxes and befoul them anew.
(I’ve learned to scoop, go off to do something for a few minutes, and then go back and scoop again. Spoiled brats, is what they are.)
It’s hard to be too annoyed with them, though. They’re always happy to be snatched up for a snuggle and a kiss, and Hoyt and Terry crack me up with their complaints if they’re disturbed whilst sleeping.
You think Fred would notice if they just stayed here forever? I could shrug and say “I don’t know, there’s just no room at the pet store yet! I know, I know it’s been two years. Weird, huh?”
Speaking of Fred, Saturday morning he was sitting at his desk eating breakfast, and I was sitting at my desk eating breakfast, and then suddenly I heard a muffled scream coming from his direction. It turns out that Lafayette had leapt up and sunk his claws into Fred’s back (through his t-shirt) and then just hung there. And Fred had just taken a bite of his breakfast, so he couldn’t do anything but scream a wordless, muffled scream of pain.
“I would have expected a much higher-pitched scream,” I said to Fred, and then I laughed until I cried.
Hey, I couldn’t help it – something about that scream was HILARIOUS.
Sam, Hoyt and Bill, in the cat bed on my desk.
Smilin’ Hoyt.
Happy Sam.
Happy Hoyt.
The Wonkas have all gotten the knack of climbing up onto the kitty condo and onto the bed in the guest bedroom. So now I go into the room and lay down on the bed, and they all climb up on the bed and snuggle with me, and it is HEAVEN.
I sure do love those sweet little monkeys.
“I has a TOY and it is MINE.”
“Look, YOU. I want a bottle and I want it NOW, and if I’m still demanding a bottle when I’m six months old, you’d best HOP TO IT, you feel me?”
“Hey. HEY. If she gets a bottle, I get one too, right? RIGHT?”
“I am but a poor wee helpless kitten and I need a bottle to make me strong.”
The girls have learned the skill of climbing up my leg. They generally give up about the time they reach my knee, but I know the time is coming when they’re going to climb up all the way to my face. And then I will be in TROUBLE.
When I placed that pile of flour sack towels on top of the canning cabinet in the dining room, it was not my intention to leave the pile there. It was further not my intention for the cats to consider it a cozy place to lay. I’m guessing it doesn’t so much matter what I intended, but rather what the cats prefer. Here, Tommy’s keeping the towels warm for Stinkerbelle (who’s usually the cat laying there).
Previously
2008: No entry.
2007: Robyn, why do you use so goddamn many exclamation points?! It makes my eyes hurt.
2006: “Dude, that’s gross,” I said to Spot, who didn’t care and gave me a nasty look as I picked it up and threw it away.
2005: I hate those stupid tests. I always think I’m going to find out some deep, hidden truth about myself, and then I get “Oh! You should be an artist! You’re the artistic type!” Bah.
2004: No entry.
2003: No entry.
2002: No entry.
2001: TV talk.
2000: I’m about the laziest chick in the world, I think.
1999: Yeah. I’m a bitch.