this review of the book and it made me simultaneously laugh and hope like hell I’m not making a mistake by moving it up so that it’ll be the book I read when I’m done with Alone.
Please, god. Don’t let this be another We Were the Mulvaneys. PLEASE.
* * *
I had a hard time getting out of bed this morning, because I thought it would be a good idea to let the kittens stay out of the kitten room for the night just to see how it went, but at 2:00 after I’d freaked myself out about seventy times by rolling over onto a piece of quilt and coming wide awake, panicked, thinking that I’d rolled over onto a kitten, I picked them up from where they were sleeping – draped over my feet – and took them into the kitten room.
And then I continued to sleep poorly, because I’d pop awake, panicked, thinking I’d rolled over onto a kitten and have to think about it for several seconds before remembering that I’d put them in their room.
I’d intended to get up when Fred left for work a few minutes before 7, but I was so sleepy still that I set the alarm for 7:40 and dozed on and off until it went off (I was in the middle of a doze when it went off, and it scared the SHIT out of me). Then I got up, did some housework, freed the kittens (I’m going to try leaving them out tonight to see how it goes, since hopefully I’ll be tired enough to sleep like a rock, and I have nowhere in particular to go tomorrow, so I can sleep in a bit), showered, got dressed, checked my email, and left for South Huntsville.
Although the spud’s birthday was on Wednesday and she got to open all her presents on Wednesday, we’re actually taking her out to dinner tonight, and having her birthday cake. Because Friday’s our junk food day, see?
Anyway, the best cakes in the area are made at Peggy Ann Bakery in South Huntsville (on Regal Drive, near the Parkway Place Mall, in case you needed to know), and that’s where we always get our birthday cakes. The only sucky thing is GETTING there (which is why I’m kind of glad that it’s where it is, because if it was closer or easier to get to, there’d be TROUBLE). It’s not a long drive – takes me about 20 minutes to get there – but I have to go from one highway to another to South Memorial Parkway, and getting from 565 to South Memorial Parkway is a nightmare for me, because the instant you get from 565 to the Parkway, you have to move over three lanes unless you want to immediately get off on the exit that’s RIGHT THERE, and I just hate that shit. It makes me mighty fucking nervous.
But I got to the bakery right at 9, as I’d intended, and picked up the cake and a little something extra for myself.
She didn’t care what color the flowers on the cake were, so we got yellow!
This is a sugar cookie with about two inches of the best frosting in the world on top of it. Just screams my name, doesn’t it?
(“GOD. No WONDER you’re so fat, if you eat stuff like that ALL THE TIME! All you have to do is stop eating crap like that, and exercise! I should know! I’m an anonymous asshole you’ve never heard of before, so listen to me!”)
So I picked up the cake and the cookie and headed for home, stopping on the way to visit the pet store (the kittens really like these little packets of Whiskas Tender Bites (or something), so I’ve started buying them and giving them a packet a day. Because I SPOIL them ROTTEN.), the gas station (gas was only $2.46 a gallon. I drove in on fumes and drove out with a full tank, and it only cost me $21.80!), the bank (payday!) and the grocery store (for a tomato, of all things), and was home in less than an hour and a half.
Now I think I need a nap.
* * *
What the hell is up with Lost and ER being reruns this week? I got all pissed off at the DVR because it didn’t tape Lost Wednesday night and I missed the first ten minutes of it, then when I sat down to watch it yesterday, I found that it was a freakin’ rerun, and next week’s is going to be a rerun, too. WHY? WHY? WHY? The fucking season JUST STARTED, you fuckers!
Speaking of the DVR, I discovered that if I cancelled the Tuesday night recording of My Name is Earl, I’ll be able to tape The Amazing Race and House at the same time. Of course, the problem is that Earl is funny as hell and we always enjoy it, so I think I might have to… as much as it galls me to say this… ::shudder::.. tape it on the VCR. GAH.
I need another DVR. Too bad I’ll never in a million years convince Fred of that. I’ve already missed so many episodes of Commander in Chief (which, I’ve heard, is really damn good) that I’ve given up and said “I’ll just have to catch it when they put it out on DVD.”
Whoever it was that came up with the idea of putting TV shows on DVD should be made Head Ruler of the Entire World, because that is just fucking BRILLIANT.
* * *
What I love about Tom Cullen: You know how some (well, MOST) cats will climb up on you, and then they’ll dither about as to whether they want to lay down on you, where they want to lay down on you, do they want to lay down on you, or NEXT to you? Well, not our Tom Cullen. He’s very self-assured and certain about everything he does. He jumps up on you, he lays down, he goes to sleep. No standing there looking around trying to decide what he wants to do. Gotta love the Tom Cullen.
I love how all you can see of Tom Cullen is his toes.
“Dude! Stop licking my toes! That TICKLES!”
“BOB! Dude! You gotta come smell this! It’s AWFUL!”
“Hee hee hee! I don’t know what I ate today, but I am ROTTEN!”
All of today’s uploaded pictures are
here.
* * *
Previously
2004: No entry.
2003: I’m going to DIE. Someday, I’m going to die. I’m going to die, you’re going to die, Fred will die, the spud will die. We’re going to DIE. All of us.
2002: I’m an AMERICAN, after all. I should never, for one second feel the slightest bit of discomfort.
2001: No entry.
2000: No entry.
1999: As far as I’m concerned, to each his own. ]]>