several times before.
Sadly, we didn’t have the camera with us, and we were sad about that, believe you me. Obviously I need to stick the old camera in my purse and carry it everywhere with me, and I always intend to do that, but then I have to take it out to get the pictures off the memory stick and then I forget to put it back into my purse because I’m forgetful to the extreme.
We spent about 45 minutes at the petting zoo. Fred got to feed raw meat to the lynx, who reminded us a great deal of Mister Boogers, not so much because he ran around like his ass was on fire (he didn’t), but because of the look on his face. Fred thought about petting the lynx – which he’s done before – but was afraid that the lynx would think it was food and take a chomp out of Fred’s hand. There were tons and tons of rabbits, some of them in cages, and several in a little petting area. I picked one up and petted it, but put it down pretty quickly because he was so obviously terrified.
We fed little bitty pigs and checked out the Patagonian Cavys (and fed them, too), but of course my favorite by far were the itty bitty baby pygmy goats. There were a couple in a fenced area where you could go in and hold them, but there were kids in there doing just that, so we stood outside the fence and petted them and the two little lambs in there with them. The woman who runs the petting zoo (along with her husband) picked up one of the lambs and told me that he really liked to be held. The next thing I knew, she’d dumped him in my arms and walked off. He was the cutest little thing, just sitting there while I held and petted him, and I sniffed his head to see what he smelled like, and he had that exact same raw-peanut smell that kittens do. Fred came over and I handed the lamb over to him, and then we reluctantly put him back in his pen and then Fred went to use the port-a-potty, and I checked out the rabbits one last time, and we left.
On the way home, my face started itching something fierce. My left eye got all bloodshot, and I scratched my face until it was bright red.
It’s safe to say that I was having a reaction to something at the zoo, whether it was one of the animals or something in the air, I have no idea. We called the spud to see if she was ready to be picked up, and she said she wanted to stay later, so we went home.
I took out my contacts and slathered my face with hydrocortisone cream and then we got in bed and talked for a few minutes before taking a 45-minute nap.
In the same bed! The horror!
The spud called when Fred was making dinner (egg burritos – recipe: scramble eggs. Put in flour tortilla. Eat.) and asked if she could stay later. He told her if she could get a ride home from someone she could stay later, she talked to her friends, and then said she’d call at 5:45 for us to come pick her up.
We ate, we went and picked her up, we came home, she disappeared upstairs, and then we watched four episodes of The Shield, Season 3.
That’s a busy, busy Saturday for us. It was kind of nice to get out of the house for the day, actually.
* * *
So there’s this commercial that’s been running on Fox this week. It’s a commercial for The O.C., which I do not watch (more on that in a sec), and in said commercial there’s a voiceover about how Kirsten and Sandy have gotten their marriage back on track (yes, I know the character names, I SAID more on that in a sec!) only that troublesome Billy Campbell is joining the cast and WILL HE MAKE TROUBLE?
Cue Billy Campbell giving Kirsten a come-hither look. Cue Billy and Kirsten at a table in a restaurant.
“I’m married,” she says with an air of
oh-god-Billy-I-wish-I-wasn’t-’cause-I’d-so-do-you-on-this-table-right-here.
Billy gives her a come-hither look.
“But you’re not wearing a wedding ring,” he points out.
Kirsten gives him a full-of-conflict you’ve-got-me-there, somewhat embarrassed look.
Which is when I scream at the TV. “So fucking WHAT if she isn’t wearing a wedding band, Billy Campbell, you shithead! She just told you she’s married! Not wearing a wedding band DOESN’T MEAN SHIT. Kirsten, tell him it’s none of his motherfucking business whether you wear a wedding band or not! GOD, Billy Campbell, I’m SO SORRY she isn’t wearing a wedding band. OBVIOUSLY if she was, you’d know she wasn’t worth your time, FUCKER.”
Okay, I only yelled that the first time. After that, I only yell “Shut the fuck up, Billy Campbell.”
I go through stages where I don’t wear my wedding band – long stages, months at a time. Usually because it’s uncomfortable, sometimes because I’m having swelling issues and take the ring off and forget to put it back on. Fred doesn’t wear a wedding band at all, because it’s uncomfortable for him.
Does that mean we’re less committed to each other? NO. Cripes, Pamela Anderson and Tommy Lee got their names tattooed on each others’ ring fingers, and you don’t see them together anymore, do you?
Whether I’m wearing my wedding band or not, we are a happy couple (though I know some people don’t believe that. See: “God, I can’t believe they sleep in separate bedrooms. That’s NOT GOOD for a marriage at all, they’re THIS CLOSE to divorce!” See also: “God, she’s such a bitch. He deserves so much better. He deserves ME!”). Just because I’m not wearing a wedding band doesn’t mean that Billy Campbell can try his slimy wiles on me.
Which, I’m sure, is something I need to worry about.
You just mind your own damn business, Mr. Billy Campbell. SHE SAID SHE WAS MARRIED.
* * *
The scoop on The O.C: I never watched it when it started, and when the buzz got going on what a good show it was (or at least a guilty pleasure) it was more than halfway through the season, and thus too late for me to catch up.
Fast forward to earlier this month, when Netflix sent me the first disc of the first season of The O.C. I started watching it while I was working out on Sunday, and I watched it again today, and I think I like it. I’ve even gone so far as to add the other six discs to my Netflix queue.
Which brings my Netflix queue to around 300. Damn!
* * *
For some reason, The Boog likes to jump down in this little space next to my desk (perhaps he enjoys the ten tons of cobwebs) and smack that bottle top around.
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