Author: Robyn

Sopranos spoilers in this section. How weird was it to see Tony acting so non-Tony-ish in the dream sequences? I mean, nodding and smiling at people? Also, I was dying for him to get home so we could see who his wife was. At first it sounded JUST like Adriana, then Fred thought maybe it was Debi Mazar. That freakin’ hole in his chest was just NASTY when it was uncovered. It gave me the willies. When Tony came out of the dream to find that he was intubated and he was flailing around, I said to Fred “I hope to god I never wake up like that!”, and then later when they had the hole uncovered – and is it weird that they’d just have the hole all uncovered like that, with people standing around in unsterile clothing? Because that seemed to just beg for a worse infection – I said to Fred “I hope to god I never have a hole in my chest like that.” ::shudder:: I found the dream sequences oddly interesting, but like I said, I was dying for him to get home. I guess a good part of this season is going to be how everyone deals with life while Tony’s in a coma.

* * * Last week Fred and I were watching TV and I made him pause the show we were watching so I could tell him something. “Shonda Rimes* said that they had to come up with a word to use instead of vagina, because apparently the censors will let them say ‘penis’ 30 times for every time they say ‘vagina’,” I said. “I think she’s exaggerating a little,” he said. “I’m sure she is, but anyway, they came up with ‘va-jay-jay‘, and now it’s taking the country by storm! I’m seeing it all OVER blogs and journals, and Shonda Rimes said people are writing her letters telling her they’ve adopted it as their own.” “That’s fascinating,” he said, and hit “play” on the remote control. *The creator of Grey’s Anatomy. Where’ve YOU been? Fred doesn’t watch the show, but even he knows who Shonda Rimes is. * * * Currently reading: Dead Sleep, by Greg Iles. So far, it’s pretty damn good. The last two books I finished – The Worst Noel and Appetites, were both kind of “eh.” I wouldn’t really recommend either of them. * * * My leetle sister turned 36 yesterday. That means we’re BOTH within shouting distance of 40, which I think makes my parents officially ancient, since two of their kids are over 40 and the other two are thisclose to it. You’ll always be the baby, Deb! * * * Hey, if you’re looking for something to listen to on your iPod and you’re a Karin Slaughter lover (or even if you’ve never heard of her!), you can download a short story of hers here. You have to provide an email address (I gave ’em my junky hotmail address, that I never ever check, except like once a month to trash all the spam), but I think that’s all, and then you can download the story. I’m looking forward to listening to it as soon as I’m done with A Girl Named Zippy. * * * A few days ago we were watching The Shield, and they kept saying the word “pussy”, and they weren’t referring to kitty-cats. “Why do they have to keep saying it?” Fred said. “It’s such an ugly word.” “What do you prefer?” I asked. “‘Cunt’?” He gave me a long, silent, thoughtful look. “I prefer ‘va-jay-jay’,” he said almost prissily. And here I thought he never listens to me. * * * Reader Nancy sent me a link to talking cats, and I went and watched it and laughed ’til I cried. Go check it out! * * * I should have known when I saw something along the lines of “An MTV Krunk production” pop up during the opening credits that it wasn’t going to be my kind of movie, but I gave Hustle & Flow a try anyway. I made it about ten minutes in – only because I am weirdly fascinated with Taryn Manning, who is hothothot on her coldest day in a way Paris Hilton couldn’t be on her hottest day – before I gave up and turned it off. And considering I’m the one who willingly sat through A Smile Like Yours, that’s got to tell you something – namely that I’ll sit through most anything. Suffice it to say that I don’t recommend Hustle & Flow. Though probably it would have picked up if I’d left it in, right? That’s how it always goes. * * * * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: And why is it that I ALWAYS have my period when it’s time to leave on vacation? Why? Whyyyyyyyyy? 2002: I don’t want to have to think about Ozzy having a boner, thankyouverymuch. 2001: Fortunately, I have many more lazing-around-the-house-reading hours in the day than he does. 2000: I didn’t think cats did such things once they were fixed.]]>

entry for yesterday and then go contribute to A Voice Unheard, wouldya? Pleeeeeeeease? Have you ever seen anything so cuddly? “What?” “Haaaaaaaaaaaappy St. Patrick’s Day! Now pass the green beer, damnit!” All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither.

* * * Previously 2005: Guess it must run in the family. 2004: The cats are on my fucking NERVES. 2003: You KNOW you’re fascinated! 2002: No entry. 2001: No entry. 2000: The Big Butt Fairy visits us every year though. Just like clockwork.]]>

Man, I’m going through A Girl Named Zippy so fast that I’m either going to have to find another audiobook to listen to, or actually get around to checking out some of the podcasts y’all have recommended. SINCE KIM IS SLACKING THIS WEEK and hasn’t put up a podcast and all. (Edited to add: Um, nevermind. Kim DID put up a podcast this week. She’s not a slacker, I’m just an idiot.) I would happily listen to nothing but Grey’s Anatomy podcasts if they didn’t only put up one a week (if that). I love listening to the producers and writers and stars of the show talk about what goes on and what there is to look forward to.

* * * I very carefully did absolutely no housework yesterday at all, despite the fact that I let the spud take the car to school specifically so I couldn’t go anywhere and would be forced to do housework. It’s like I’ve never met myself before or something. “Yeah, I’ll let the spud take the car to school, and I’ll be stuck at home, thus NATURALLY I will feel compelled to do housework!” Not so much. Well, unless you count folding bras, which I don’t since it only took about three minutes (and that’s with a Sugary snuggle-break in the middle). I finally got around to dipping my feet in the Homedics Paraffin Bath Fred gave me for Christmas. I did my hands the other day and thought I was going to peel the wax off to find that my skin was coming off with the wax, because WAX is HOT. Also in breaking news, the SUN is BRIGHT. Anyway, I dipped my feet in the wax (but not before applying Bag Balm to the bottoms in hopes of getting them super-softened, because my feet are just nasty) and it didn’t feel terribly hot at all, and then I peeled the wax off… and the bottoms of my feet pretty much looked the same. I suspect that if I stopped walking around in bare feet all the time they wouldn’t look quite so nasty. If I got out of the shower, moisturized them, and put socks on, I’d probably end up with downright pretty feet in ten to fifteen years (my estimation of how long it will take for the nastiness to go away). But damn, I just cannot walk around in socks all day, or even (horrors!) shoes. CAN’T. I’ve been a barefooter for my entire life. It is too! damn! late! to force myself into socks all day! It just is! I guess I’ll have to live with my ugly feet. * * * I got around to watching Big Love yesterday afternoon (in a bid to avoid the fact that there are living things in the refrigerator and the damn thing needs desperately to be cleaned out and scrubbed down. Yeah, I’ll get right on that.), and for the first ten minutes or so I was like “Eh. Whatever. I don’t think I care for this show.” But then I got drawn into it, and by the end I decided that – despite the fact that Bill Paxton and Chloe Sevigny have the two most smackable faces in all of Hollywood – it’s not a bad show and I’ll probably continue to watch it. I really like Jeanne Tripplehorn and Ginnifer Goodwin (who played Johnny Cash’s first wife in Walk the Line. No wonder she looked so familiar. She’s adorable, that girl.), so perhaps they balance out the smackableness of Paxton and Sevigny. Also, the girl who played Sarah (daughter of… Barb? I think? Jeanne Tripplehorn’s character, anyway) was Lilly Kane in Veronica Mars. No wonder she looked familiar, too! I swear to god, the older I get, the more I’ve either seen everyone somewhere else, or they resemble someone else. Speaking of, Fred refers to Nick on CSI as “Sean Hannity”, and last night we watched the first episode with Lady Heather, and I told Fred that Grissom is intrigued with Lady Heather and I know she makes at least one more appearance on CSI (a recent one, I think), and he said “Oh, like Sean Hannity was intrigued with the hooker?” and my jaw dropped and I stared at him and said “SEAN HANNITY GOT CAUGHT WITH A HOOKER?”, because I’d heard no such thing (and I certainly would have run across THAT headline somewhere in the course of my daily surfing) and then I realized he was talking about Nick. And then later I said something about Catherine. And he said, “Who’s Catherine?” PEOPLE. We are halfway through the freakin’ second season of the show, and he doesn’t know who Catherine is! I don’t know about him. * * * Tommy chases shadows. Look for a patch of sunlight, and you’ll find Spanky. Such a Boog. If you look closely, you’ll see a single piece of litter on his nose. “How YOU doin’?” (All of the above pictures were taken by Fred.) All of today’s uploaded pictures (there are a bunch of Spanky!) are here. * * * Previously 2005: Old pictures. 2004: (Bwahaha! That’d be the shortest study in the history of mankind, eh?) 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Takes all kinds, I guess. 2000: A life of excitement, thrills and chills, lemme tell ya!]]>

* * * From my comments: Anyway what brought me here today is that I’ve been reading your blog forever, but just stumbled across your bio today. I can not believe that you lived in GooseBay!!!! I’m originally from Nova Scotia. It is very bad manners to bring up the following point on your anniversary of meeting Fred, but this must have been in your first marriage since Fred thinks Maine is north! So being stuck in GooseBay in a less than great marriage, is it any wonder you learned to swear! Actually, I lived in GooseBay, Labrador (Canada) for a while when I was about two years old. My father was in the Air Force and we were stationed there for a while – my sister was actually born there. I don’t remember a thing about the place, except what I’ve seen in pictures. I seem to recall that it was verrrrry cold and snowy. Also, Fred thinks Tennessee is a little too far North, let alone Maine. I can’t imagine ever trying to drag him into Canada – though one of these years he’s going to finally go to Maine to climb Mt. Katahdin, and maybe I’ll drag him north over the border into Canada just so he can say he’s been.

* * * I got up from my desk this morning to do something, and as I walked through the dining room I glanced into the back yard. There, in the midst of hopping down from the bird bath, was a stumpy gray Boogerman. He came inside and proceeded to lick his lips for twenty minutes, leading me to conclude that he’d been in the bird bath drinking water (probably he was more perched on the side of the bird bath, since he wasn’t wet, rather than in it). I emailed Fred to report what I’d seen, and said What if he ends up with mad bird disease? To which Fred responded Mad Boog disease! * * * Currently reading: Appetites, by Caroline Knapp. I hate it when I pick up a book and flip it to the back so I can read about the author (and check out the author pic) (which I always do before I begin reading a book) and find that the author died. I couldn’t even begin reading the book until I’d come downstairs to find out how she’d died (lung cancer at the age of 42). Recently finished: Catch Me When I Fall, by Nicci French. Good book, but not my favorite Nicci French. FBI Girl, by Maura Conlon-McIvor. I didn’t really care for it. I think maybe Haven Kimmel has ruined me for all other memoirs. The Dog Walker, by Leslie Schnur. Another one I didn’t really care for; the style of writing got on my nerves. Secret Smile, by Nicci French. I really liked this one. It made me so tense I had to stay up late to finish it. Satisfying ending. Over Her Dead Body, by Kate White. Not bad, but the ending really dragged. I’m not sure whether I’m going to stick with Kate White books or not; I’ll have to decide when the next one comes out. * * * I had decided to suck it up and go see Brokeback Mountain on Friday, but when I checked the listings I found that it was no longer playing. Figures, doesn’t it? Ah well, it comes out on DVD in less than three weeks. I’ve already informed Fred that we WILL be watching it the day it comes out. He threatened to bring the camera into the living room while we’re watching it, to capture the occasion for y’all when I go from merely teary-eyed to full-out Ugly Cry. (Now, watch. I won’t cry at ALL, since I fully expect to be a weepy mess by the end.) * * * Da Sugs, up close. “Why, I oughta…” Tommy’s little chin-whiskers just crack me up. Spanky checks out the situation (there’ll be more Spanky pics up in the next few days, Amy, I promise!) Uh, yeah. That looks comfy! All of today’s uploaded pictures (there are quite a few) are here. * * * Previously 2005: MY BOX! 2004: (”He sighed at me, your honor, and then I had to kill him.” “Case dismissed!”) 2003: No entry. 2002: Bastards. 2001: You’re thinking If you had a clue how to tell which hamsters are girls and which are boys, you wouldn’t have this problem in the first place! 2000: Yes, I’m a goober, I think we all know that. ]]>

Aidan from Sex and the City (or, if you prefer, Chris from Northern Exposure) been a singer? I turned the TV on to CMT while I was making the bed and getting dressed this morning, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I realized that really was him in the video. (Though I had to go through the “Is that? No way. But it looks so much like him!” for a few minutes before I decided it really was him) I’m not sure whether I like his music yet. Speaking of videos, I am SO FUCKING SICK AND TIRED of that freakin’ Carrie Underwood “Jesus Take the Wheel” song and video. They are playing it CONSTANTLY, and although I kind of like it (though I also think the song is rife with hokiness. DRIPPING with hokiness. SOAKED in hokiness. You’re soaking in it, Carrie!) I’ve heard it so freakin’ many times that I’m at the point now where every time it starts, I loudly suggest that Jesus just leave that freakin’ wheel alone so they’ll STOP playing that song already. And I LIKE Carrie Underwood, so I can only imagine how crazy it’s driving people who don’t care for her.

Pet store kitty pics from yesterday are here. * * * This is the time of year – along with Fall – that totally makes it worth living in the South. Everything’s blooming, the temperature hit 80 over the weekend (though it’s cooled off a little today, but that’s A-OK with me) and we’re getting plenty of sun. The lawn hasn’t started greening in just yet (it goes dormant in the Fall, which is why our lawn looks so brown and dead in all the pictures I take of the cats in the back yard), but it shouldn’t be long before we have a green lawn. With such gorgeous weather and with everything starting to bloom, it’s nice to walk outside in the mornings. Well, mostly nice. The only problem is… the Bradford Pear trees. They are SO pretty to look at, but my GOD do they stink. I know I’ve mentioned this before – probably about this time last year, actually – but they smell SO bad. I know it’s because they’re pollinated by flies (which I only know because one of y’all told me that), and for the most part I do my best to breathe through my mouth when I’m walking by one of them (and the damn things are all OVER the place around here), but every now and then I’ll forget and get a big lungful of what smells like rotting roadkill. Blech. Currently, I’m listening to A Girl Named Zippy on my iPod (I fall a little more in love with Bob Pod every day), and there have been times while I’m listening to it that I laugh out loud, and then I get embarrassed, because one of the roads I walk on is a very, very busy road, and I’m sure I look like the town loon, walking along laughing out loud to myself, a big dorky grin on my face. But I can’t help it. It’s such an awesome and at times hilarious book! * * * I watched the first disc of the first season of Gilmore Girls over the weekend. That is a damn fine show, and I’m looking forward to working my way through the rest of the available seasons on DVD. It’s going to take a while, since the show’s been on for about twenty years. * * * I bought this little tent for the cats when I was at the pet store on Saturday. They all like it, but Miz Poo loves it more than anyone. We’ve taken to calling it the Poo Cave. Is it just me, or does Sugarbutt look like he’s trying to fart? Spot makes a rare appearance. The egg yolk every morning is probably partly responsible for Tommy’s porkifying. But it makes his fur so shiny and smooth! All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: Questions answered. 2004: No entry. 2003: Yeah, don’t look at me. I have no idea what goes on his head, either. 2002: I think I could kick her ass, personally, and I’d be happy to do it. Bitch. 2001: “That’s okay,” I said cheerfully. “Those things are a pain in the big butt, aren’t they?” 2000: Fred sings again.]]>

Is it just me, or is this month going by really quickly?

* * * I’m pleased to announce that my father is home from the hospital – they let him go home yesterday afternoon. He’s still not feeling 100%, obviously, but like I told my mother, it’s always more comfortable to feel like crap in your own home than in the hospital. * * * Scene: Saturday night, in the living room, watching the latest Harry Potter. Robyn: Oh, pause this for a moment. (Fred pauses the movie) Did you hear that the head Sopranos guy – Fred: David Chase? Robyn: Yeah. He said he was amazed by the fact that so many people were like “Well, we didn’t actually SEE Adriana die, she might not really be dead!” And he said “No, that’s ridiculous. She’s DEAD, people!” Fred: Really? Robyn: Yeah. (Silence) Robyn: Okay, you can restart the movie. (Good movie, by the way. It might have been almost three hours long, but it didn’t feel like it. And is it just me, or is Daniel Radcliffe becoming a strikingly unpleasant young fellow to look at? But then, I guess there’s nothing in the books that says he’s good-looking, is there?) Scene: Sunday night, in the living room, watching the credits for The Sopranos. Fred: (pauses the show) (DVRs are THE SHIT) Hey, David Chase said that he was blown away by how many people kept pointing out that we never actually saw Adriana die, and they want to believe she’s still around. Robyn: (checking for signs of amusement; none visible) Really. Fred: Yes! (Looks proud of himself for the scoop) Robyn: That’s amazing. Fred: I know, isn’t it? I guess people like Adriana more than he realized! Robyn: That is an amazing and scintillating fact, right there. Fred: I know. Robyn: Where’d you hear such an interesting fact? Fred: (stares off into space) I think I read it on (catches sight of the look on my face) Oh. Did you tell me that? Robyn: Yes. LAST NIGHT. Fred: Are you sure? I think I must have sent you the link that said that. Robyn: You heard it from ME, baby. (He does this all the time, quoting me to myself as though he’d heard or read it somewhere else. Of course, I do the same thing, sometimes.) Fred: Oh. (Restarts show) That episode of The Sopranos was something, wasn’t it? I was a little disappointed that so much of the show focused on characters we didn’t know and don’t care about, but I guess it was just a way of showing how the mafia works. They weren’t kidding when they said you didn’t want to miss the last three minutes of the show. I knew about thirty seconds before it happened, what was going to happen, but I was so caught up in what was going on that I couldn’t do my usual annoying-person-who-guesses-the-ending thing of yelling out “It’s the butler! In the library! With a bottle of Chardonnay!” But I knew what was going to happen. I did! And it did! I should become a screenwriter. * * * We’ve started watching season 2 of CSI in the evenings, starting at 6:00. We watch an episode of that, then usually tune into whatever show we’re planning on watching (tonight’s show is 24, so we might watch two episodes of CSI before 24 comes on), and so last night at a few minutes after 6:00, Fred yelled “Are you ready?” from the living room. “I’ll be in in a minute!” I yelled back, and finished whatever I was doing. It took me about five minutes, and when I walked silently into the living room, Fred didn’t hear me. He was sitting on the couch, Tom Cullen on a pillow in his lap. Tom was laying on his back, one paw in the air to praise the lord, and Fred was singing. “It’s Mister Boogers’ Lazy Cat’s Club Band!” he sang. “We hope you will enjoy the show. Mister Boogers’ Lazy Cat’s Club Band, sit back and let the catnip flow!” He caught sight of me, grinned, and said “Ready for CSI?” I don’t believe I’ve mentioned this, have I? I sure do love that man. (That Tommy, too.) * * * Waiting for his Daddy to come back inside from the garage. “Let me out! Let me out! I want to be with my daddy!” * * * Previously 2005: No entry. 2004: No entry. 2003: Y’know, sometimes I wonder how I make it through the world, clueless as I am. 2002: Her portly butt probably cut off the circulation to something important. 2001: I should have her arrested. 2000: Work was just heavenly today.]]>

new toy. (If you’re looking for mush, check the previous years’ links at the bottom of the page)

* * * Today’s earworm: You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful, it’s true. I saw your face in a crowded place, And I don’t know what to do, ‘Cause I’ll never be with you. (You’re Beautiful, by James Blunt) This earworm brought to you by Oprah, who had him on her show the other day, and I canNOT get the damn song out of my brain. Luckily, I kind of like it. (And the story behind the song: James Blunt saw his ex-girlfriend on the train with her new boyfriend, and their eyes met, and they (I quote) “Lived a lifetime in that moment”, and that’s what he wrote the song about. How come no one ever writes a song about ME?) (Shaddup, Fred) * * * Meme, stolen from TNGirl. [1] Name 5 of your favorite books 1. The Stand, by Stephen King 2. Swan Song, by Robert McCammon 3. A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch, by Haven Kimmel 4. Good in Bed, by Jennifer Weiner 5. Conversations with the Fat Girl, by Liza Palmer [2] What was the last book you bought? You: The Smart Patient, by Michael F. Roizen and Mehmet C. Oz [3] What was the last book you read? The last one I finished was Jump the Shark. The one I’m currently reading is Over Her Dead Body. [4] Name five books that are particularly meaningful for you. 1. Carrie, by Stephen King. It was the first real grown-up book I ever read, and I’ll always remember reading it and thinking it was amazing. 2. The Little House series. 3. The Stand. I could read it a thousand times and never get sick of it. 4. A Girl Named Zippy and She Got Up Off the Couch – the best memoirs I’ve ever read. 5. The Nancy Drew books. Oh, how I loved those books when I was a kid! [5] Three books you are dying to read but just haven’t yet. I have a bookcase stuffed with books I can’t wait to read – I couldn’t possibly narrow it down to three! [6] Tag five people to go through this same ordeal. Consider yourselves tagged. * * * I’ve got nothing for today. How about some cat pics? We took ’em out and let ’em chase bubbles again yesterday. Mister Boogers has a thought. Sugarbutt waits for The Daddy to blow some bubbles. I swear, that cat has the longest tail EVER. Madame Sugar sees good things for you in your future. That’ll be ten dollars, please. “Hellew, kisskiss, how’s your Momma and them?” All of today’s uploaded pictures – I took a TON of bubble-chasing pictures – are here. * * * Previously 2005: I met Fred nine years ago today. 2004: Eight years ago today, I entered the IRC Undernet channel #!Fredsplace and met the geek who owned and ran the channel, who would eventually become the love of my life. (Complete with mush!) 2003: Sick Poo. 2002: No entry. 2001: Five years ago today, I was on IRC and I wandered into the Undernet channel #!Fredsplace, and I met the love of my life. (More mush!) 2000: Four years ago today, I wandered into the IRC Undernet channel #!Fredsplace, thus setting into motion a chain of events which would echo down through the years.]]>

reading: Over Her Dead Body, by Kate White. Finished last night: Jump the Shark, by Jon Hein. Good book – like I said the other day, it’s like having the web page in book form.

I seriously considered going to see Brokeback Mountain yesterday, because I REALLY want to see that damn movie. But after careful consideration I ended up not going, because the only place in the area it was playing was at a multiplex on South Memorial Parkway. It started at 1:10, and if there’s anywhere I’d rather not be after 3 in the afternoon, it’s on the damn Parkway. So I guess I’ll end up just waiting for it to come out on DVD. Which should be in the next few months, I hope. * * * Fred suggested the other day that we rename Tom Cullen and Sugarbutt “Porky” and “Dorky.” And they’d be appropriate names, because I think Tommy’s going to end up being Tubby-sized. He’s got a gut like you wouldn’t believe, and he’s a very heavy, solid cat. The funny thing is that he really doesn’t eat all that much – I would have expected Sugarbutt to be the one with the gut, because he’s always got his face in the food bowl. And “Dorky” would be a good name for Sugarbutt, ’cause he’s just not the sharpest tool in the shed. Pretty? Yes, very. Smart? Not nearly as smart as Tommy. Last Sunday Fred was in the kitchen making coffee and Tommy jumped up onto the counter, where we keep his, Sugarbutt’s and Boog’s collars in a basket. He dug around in the basket, grabbed a collar with his teeth, and dropped it on the counter. (It actually happened to be his collar, but I think that’s incidental.) Then he gave Fred a look and meowed. Clearly it was time for Fred to collar up the cats and open the cat door! So he did. * * * Pet store kitty pics from Monday are here. * * * I realized the other day that the iPod is just a Barbie Doll for adults. I mean, I have little OUTFITS for Bob Pod now. Not only do I have the silicon cover I bought on eBay: (And despite what I PAID for, that is NOT a yellow silicon cover. It’s a freakin’ PEACH cover. That is in no way yellow, damnit.) And with a little help from Nance, Bob Pod can now leather it up when he’s feeling like a badass: (She said she thought it was appropriate because I like to listen to country music. Brat!) And of course, when he’s feeling sassy, he can just let it all hang in the breeze: That Bob Pod, so stylish. * * * I was sitting in the computer room yesterday, Miz Poo in a cat bed on one side of my desk and Tommy in a cat bed on the other side. I could hear the distinctive sound of Sugarbutt snoring – he and Tommy are both snorers, so I guess it’s genetic – so I leaned over to see where Sugarbutt was (I thought he might be sleeping behind the chair in the corner of the room), and saw this: So I went for a closer look and found that Sugarbutt was snoozing up inside the recliner: And he didn’t want to be disturbed, so I went away. Every morning when I eat my cottage cheese (on the mornings that I eat cottage cheese, that is), Sugarbutt sits and stares at me until I’m done, waiting for me to hand my bowl over so that he might lick every little bit of cottage cheese out of the bowl. That bowl, by the way, used to belong to my grandmother. I have a set of two of them, and I LOVE them. I bought this cat tunnel at PetSmart, and I am less than impressed with it. I thought it would kind of pop open and stay that way, but it’s actually collapsible, like a big bag. The cats like Fred to carry them around in it. The other night, Mister Boogers climbed in the bag, and Fred carried the bag o’ Booger into the computer room and said “Would you like a bag o’ Booger?” Without looking in the bag, I reached in to pet him, and found that he was upside-down. As in, ass up. So when I reached down to pet his head, IT WASN’T HIS HEAD I GOT. ::shudder:: * * * Previously 2005: Killing the messenger. 2004: Howling and hissing and growling and yowling ensued. 2003: No entry. 2002: No entry. 2001: Gather ’round, younguns, and hear the heartbreaking tale of farts and betrayal… 2000: You still love me, though, right? Um, right?]]>

* * * I may have spoken too soon about the cats not liking the Duck and Green Pea cat food. Yesterday I went in to take a shower, and Sugarbutt was eating some of it, then when I got out of the shower Miz Poo was eating it. And there was another bowl of cat food they definitely like right next to the new food, so it wasn’t a matter of not having anything else to eat. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how things go. I ordered Advantage for Miz Poo off eBay ($20 for 4 months’ worth!), so that should be here soon. I need to go ahead and order some for the rest of the cats, too, but we need to figure out how much they weigh. I’m sure Tommy and Sugarbutt don’t weigh over 9 pounds (YET), but I don’t know about the other three.

* * * I spent almost an hour last night going through my iTunes songs and fixing them so that they were in the format I like – that is, the name of the song under the correct heading, and the artist’s name under that heading. Of course, the songs I’ve downloaded with iTunes are already in that format, but the songs I had before I knew about – or gave in to – iTunes aren’t. Not that I downloaded them illegally, because I would NEVER. Shaddup. Anyway, I had the list sorted by name (I love you, iTunes. Almost as much as I love Bob Pod.) and I was going through the songs, looking for ones that needed to have their info edited, and I came upon the songs I had that started with “all”, and it made me laugh, because of course there’s All by Myself, All Cried Out, and All I Have. Then, there’s All I Have, All I Know, All I Need, All I want, All Over the World, and All Right. That version of All by Myself is by Jamie O’Neal; I need to download the Eric Carmen version, because I love that song SO MUCH it just ain’t right. Not only did I have to edit the song titles, I had to go through and edit the songs that were attributed to the wrong artist. For instance, Edwin McCain didn’t actually sing Walk on the Ocean, and I’m not sure what doofus on Kazaa would think he did. Also, I have a version of Flowers on the Wall that’s attributed to Brad Paisley, and it’s not him, but I’ll be damned if I can remember the group’s name. (No, it isn’t the Statler Brothers’ version, but I have no idea who it IS, either.) Even after working on it for an hour, I still only go through about a quarter of the songs I have. I’m sure I’ll get right on editing the rest of the songs that need it in another month or six. Currently reading: Jump the Shark, by Jon Hein. It’s like having the web page in book format – a good thing, as far as I’m concerned. I don’t have to do any of that pesky “clicking”, as you kids call it. Finished late last night: Land of the Living, by Nicci French. A pretty intense book, and even though I’d intended to go to bed at 11:00, I ended up staying up ’til 12:30, ’cause I could NOT put it down. It’s funny – the first time I picked up a Nicci French book, it’s because I confused her (or rather, them – they’re a husband and wife writing team) with another author whose book I’d read. (I don’t remember the author’s name, but the book was about her husband having an affair and leaving her, and possibly the author was an editor at one of the women’s magazines (Glamour, Mademoiselle, Cosmo) I read at the time (I read none of those, these days, for the record, because after about 5 years of reading them, it starts to be the same old recycled shit, month after month). It’s possible her first name was Nikki or Nicki or some variation thereof, and I think she was actually from France. Also, she had a couple of small children. Does this sound familiar to anyone?) I liked the first Nicci French book I read (I think it was Killing Me Softly) and from then on I bought her (their) books when I saw them. * * * More bubble-hunting. My god, Tommy cracks me up. Zombie kitty! “Dad, let us out! Let us out, Dad, let us OUT! I forgot to sniff the bird poop under the bird feeders!” Did I mention that the daffodils are a-bloomin’? All of today’s uploaded pictures are hither. * * * Previously 2005: “This is good!” he said. “Old people always know where the good food is!” 2004: That guy, I thought to myself, looks an AWFUL lot like Larry the Cable Guy. 2003: No entry. 2002: Know what made me laugh so hard I cried, and even now when I think about it, I grin and giggle involuntarily? The idea of a cat using the word “manipulate.” 2001: It’s a comfortable pattern for me. 2000: No entry.]]>

Currently reading: Land of the Living, by Nicci French. Finished last night: Any Place I Hang My Hat, by Susan Isaacs. Good book, with a somewhat predictable ending.

* * * This section deals with 24; skip to the next section if you haven’t seen last night’s episode or are uninterested. I can-fucking-NOT believe they killed Edgar off. THOSE FUCKERS. If they kill Chloe off, I will STOP WATCHING THE SHOW, I swear I will! And my prediction for next week is that Lynn McHobbitt will sacrifice himself, since it’s his own damn fault that the bad guy was able to get into CTU and set off the bomb. * * * I had to take Miz Poo to the vet yesterday, because her lip is starting to swell up again. We had a good 2 1/2 months of an unswelled lip, but it’s back again. It’s not bad yet, but we figured it was best to see the vet immediately instead of waiting for it to get bad. Have I mentioned that the vet is half an hour away? I don’t care, though – I really like her. This is the vet’s office (one of them, I guess I should say) that treats the shelter’s foster kittens. Anyway, I boxed Miz Poo up in the one cat carrier we have (I keep trying to remember to get another carrier, though I really think we need at least three, but I keep forgetting): Before I get to what the vet said, let me show you something that was sitting in the exam room that I found just the tiniest bit… weird. What the HELL is going on there?! Is the goat about to get a gynecological exam? But goats with horns are boys, aren’t they? Mr. Goat certainly looks concerned, whatever the problem is, and Dr. Pig seems to be reassuring while educating. I had to get a closer look, and I found that they’re apparently looking at an X-ray, and Dr. Pig is explaining what’s going on while Mr. Goat contemplatively strokes his pot belly. Maybe if I’d looked closer at the X-ray, I’d have been able to figure out what the problem was… Anyway. The vet came in and looked Miz Poo over, then we discussed what’s been going on with her. What it came down to is that the steroid shots that cured her lip before aren’t a great thing to keep giving her, because they can cause diabetes and heart trouble. The vet did some research and found that in a large percentage of cases like Miz Poo’s, the problem is an allergy to fleas or mosquitoes and/ or the food they’re eating. Which we knew, from the other vet, and we also tried switching her food a couple of years ago, and it did bupkis. Anway, she ended up giving me a new bag of Hill’s Prescription food – d/d Duck and Green Pea*, for the record – and we’re to try that, keep giving her Advantage, and keep her inside as much as possible. We’re willing to switch the food and keep giving her the Advantage, but I’m not thinking that keeping her inside is going to work. It’s bad enough now when Fred shuts the cat door so the cats can’t go out after dark – the pretty but kinda dumb Sugarbutt loses his MIND, he just can’t figure out how it was that he was able to get outside earlier but can’t anymore – I can’t imagine how much of a cow they’d have if they couldn’t go out all day long. I thought about just letting them in and out through the door when they wanted in (or out) instead of leaving the cat door open all the time, but they’re in and out CONSTANTLY (just since I started this paragraph, Sugarbutt ran outside and then immediately hauled ass back inside), and if Miz Poo wasn’t such a social cat I’d consider keeping her locked in one room, but if she couldn’t haul a toy from one end of the house to the other, keening the entire time and drop the toy near me so that she might receive some praise, she’d die of a broken heart. So we’re going to do the other things and pray that it helps. Oh and by the way, the Hill’s Prescription Duck and Green Pea? So far, not a hit. The cats look at it, look at us, and meow sadly. *Duck and Green Pea sounds like a cartoon, doesn’t it? * * * Yesterday I was sitting at my desk, waiting for it to be time to take Miz Poo to the vet, and I glanced up to find a truck with some kind of official seal on the door, sitting directly in front of the house. An older man was sitting in the truck, and he kept looking at our house and then writing things down. “Oh crap,” I groaned. “We’re about to get a citation or something!” What kind of citation? Fuck if I know. Maybe a citation for the incredible amount of cat shit we put in the garbage can and expect the garbage men to haul away every week? The guy sat and wrote on his clipboard for about ten minutes, and then he got out of the truck. I waited for a knock on the door, but he ended up heading for the water hydrant sitting near the street between our yard and the yard belonging to the people on our right (if you’re facing the street; they’re on our left if you’re facing the house OBVIOUSLY), fiddled with the hydrant for a few minutes, and then let loose a spray of water. I was so very seriously tempted to run out and splash around in the water, but (a) I had to leave for the vet’s in five minutes and (b) I’m shy. Shut up! I am! Anyway, he let it run for about five minutes, then shut it off and drove away. Do they have to test the hydrants every so often? I don’t remember that ever happening before. * * * Fred LOVES to torture the cats by holding up one side of their mouth, exposing their long, scary teeth, and making a growling sound. Tommy was so dead to the world, his lip stayed that way. Da Boog is a slut for the belly rub. I got a bottle of bubbles for Fred at Michael’s last week. He took the cats and the bubbles outside, and I’d say the bubbles were a hit with the cats, especially Tommy. I ADORE the look on his little face. Tommy always walks around with his tail curved back like that. He’s such a good boy. All of today’s uploaded pictures are here. * * * Previously 2005: Book recommendations and a meme. 2004: No entry. 2003: Be afraid. Be very afraid. 2002: Food for her youngs. 2001: Not much going on here. 2000: Mean mommy, huh?]]>