7/8/05

* * * Thanks to Bonnie, JL, and Whitters, I have some awesome buttons for linkin’ to the Mia Fund page. I’m even allowing hotlinking! If you want to use a button to link to the Mia page, go check out the buttons (and the html, if you’re clueless like me – I had to call Fred and ask for help, since I only know the very most basic of html), and link away! As of this morning, we’ve raised $1055.88 (yes, I know there are checks on the way, too! That’ll give me a good reason to go check the PO Box every day.). Paypal will be transferring that money to my bank account over the next 3 or 4 business days, so I’ll be able to present the woman who runs the shelter with a nice big check next week before I leave for Maine. I don’t think she’s aware of this site – she keeps pretty busy, so I suspect there’s not a lot of time for journal-reading – so I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees how much the check is for! Y’all rock, you really do. Keep it coming!

* * * This morning I got up early, because I went to bed early last night – 10:00 – because I was very sleepy. I made the bed and put my contacts in and took my morning dose of calcium; the usual, in other words. I folded some laundry and put it away, then came downstairs to open the blinds in the kitchen and living room, and check my email. I read my email and responded to a few, then intended to go back upstairs and take a shower, but decided to look something up and as you probably know, once you start looking for one thing online, it’s all over. Half an hour later I was still in front of the computer, and behind me I heard Mister Boogers making his “this disturbs me” sound. In response, I heard Miz Poo make her “What the fuck is this?” noise. I closed the browser where I was looking at a trailer to which Fred had sent me the link and turned around to see what was going on. There, on the floor between Mister Boogers and Miz Poo was a huge, dead mourning dove. I was dumbstruck. Anyone who knows our cats knows that they prefer to bring live birds into the house, so that havoc can ensue. I wondered for a minute if Mister Boogers had brought the bird into the house, chased it around the house for a while, and then killed it and was now bringing it to me as an act of lurve, while I was sitting oblivious in front of the computer. I got up and looked around for signs of a struggled and there was nary a feather to be seen, until I looked outside, and saw that there was a mass of feathers strewn across the yard. Apparently he’d killed the dove outside and then brought it inside. THANKS, MISTER BOOGERS, YOU FUCKER. When I called Fred to report the situation, he told me that Mister Boogers had been looking out the living room window this morning, caught sight of a dove, and gotten all excited. Which is when Fred opened the back door and said “Go get him, buddy!” Apparently Mister Boogers was just following orders. * * * I went to Target this morning to pick up a bunch of odds ‘n ends (for one, a small broom and dustpan to keep in the bathroom closet, because the cats love to knock their food out of the bowl, all over the floor, and when you tramp across a pile of cat food in the middle of the night on your way to the toilet, it hurts like a motherfucker). So after I picked up everything I needed – and a few things I didn’t – I headed for the checkout. It was early, so there weren’t many people in the store, and I didn’t have to wait in line at all. I put everything on the conveyer belt, and then went to the end of the checkout counter to grab everything as the cashier bagged it, so I could put it in my cart. So all I’d have to do was pay and be on my way, see? Only when I turned around to pay with my debit card, there was already someone standing there. In the time I’d loaded my cart, someone had gotten in line behind me, unloaded her own cart, and walked down to the place where you pay. “Excuse me,” I said. She gave me a look and moved three inches to the left. I squeezed in between her and the… thing. That you put your debit card in. Which I don’t know the name of. She stood there and WATCHED ME. I turned and gave her the Bug-Eyed Look of Annoyance*, to no avail. Clearly she was either trying to get my PIN so she could follow me out to the parking lot, knock me over the head, and steal my purse, or she was a bitch with a strange sense of entitlement to the debit card machine thingy. I opted to believe she was a combination of the two, and so I gave her a significant I see you, you thieving bitch look, and moved so that I was blocking the debit card machine (thingy) and she couldn’t see my PIN as I entered it. Then I accepted the receipt from the cashier, gave the Space Invader one last dirty look, and left the store. I’m pleased to announce that she didn’t follow me out into the parking lot and knock me over the head, but believe you me, I was ready for her. I would have kicked her ass, and then sat on her ’til the cops arrived. I’m a little sad I didn’t get to kick her ass, because Space Invaders really annoy the hell out of me. I mean, who the hell doesn’t know that you should wait until the person ahead of you pays before you go hover in front of the debit card machine (thingy)? *It’s no accident that you can’t see my eyebrows in this picture. Yes, they desperately need to be “done”, but I have no mad eyebrow-plucking skillz. * * * When I was folding laundry this morning, I turned the TV on, because I like to listen to country music videos while I’m doing fun stuff like laundry or cleaning or watching paint dry. Shania Twain was on both CMT and, er, whatever that other country music video station is, and because I just can’t stand Shania Twain anymore (I used to like her a lot, but with the craptastic “Party for Two”, which everyone in the entire world loves except me, apparently. Even FRED.), so I flipped over to VH-1. The Gavin DeGraw “Chariot” video was just ending, so I left it there, and starting folding towels. This R. Kelly song came on, and I was so drawn in by it that I had to stop and watch it, because it made me LAUGH MY ASS OFF. Have you seen it, the video for “Trapped in the Closet“? I’ve never in my life seen a video that’s such a literal interpretation of a song. He sings something like “An’ I walked across the floor”, and in the video? Why, there he is! R. Kelly, walkin’ cross the floor! He sings “And he went and looked under the bed!”, and in the video, the cuckholded husband is, you guessed it, looking under the bed. I had no idea R. Kelly was so funny. It reminded me, for some reason, of the Dana Carvey Choppin’ Broccoli skit. * * * The kitten section. Last night I went upstairs to hang with the babies, and I walked in to find them all sleeping. They heard me come through the door and all slowly came to me, stretching and yawning and peeping the entire way. At one point I had four sleepy kittens in my arms, half-heartedly fighting with each other. Finally, three of them went running off to play, and Snoopy decided he wanted to go back to sleep. He slept in my arms for the longest time, despite the fact that his brothers and sisters find his tail to be an irresistable toy, and would come running over to grab at and bite it. I sure do love these damn kitties, and MAN am I going to miss them when they’re gone. Sleeping Snoopy. Sweet (ha!) little Peanut. Edgar, hanging out on my shoulder. Something about clean, wet hair drives Oy NUTS. He pretty much ends up on top of my head, licking my hair. Crazy cat. The skilled acrobat, Snoopy, hanging from my shoulder by one arm as he cleans the other. Looking out the window is obviously a favorite pasttime around here. I got home from the bank yesterday, and glanced up to see Edgar looking out the window. He watched me drive up the driveway, and got so excited he fell off the box he was standing on. Crazy girl. Lookin’ for love in all the right places. Oy likes the catnip toy. Edgar, concerned. I think this is my favorite picture of him. He’s such a sweet boy. This is how things usually are around here. Asses being kicked, cat toys being tossed around, and someone trying to figure out how to fit his entire body in the Steakout cup. Peanut and Flossie are water connoisseurs. They take a drink of water, then lift their heads, and smack their lips. They remind me of wine tasters. They know how to appreciate the good things in life, those two. Look what I found in my /tmp directory! I think I took these with the spud’s camera: Were they ever really that little? Check back at Flickr over the weekend, if you want to, because I have a bunch of pictures I’m going to upload over there, so I can clear off my memory stick. * * * Grumpy Poo. ]]>