Author: Robyn

Elizabeth Murray’s page and looked at her pictures, but didn’t see that particular one. I looked at art.com and that picture didn’t come up under her name, though Fifi in Monet’s Garden did. So to make a long story short, I have no idea who the artist is. I can tell you where to get the picture, though. Fred bought the picture for me from Paragon Gifts; every time I get their catalog, I’ve been drooling over that picture. You can get it already framed, here. You can get it with just the mat at allposters, here. And Portal Cards has varying sizes – go here, click on “search” (at the top) and search on “Cat in garden”. As for the other pictures, you can find the cat in the tub at Portal Cards also (just search on “Tub Cat”) and the wet cat, too (search on, surprisingly enough, “Wet Cat”). Allposters also has Tub Cat and Wet Cat. Who loves their readers more than me? That’s right, NO ONE.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ So I slept in this morning because I didn’t have any appointments or errands to run. I rolled out of bed around 8:30, did a little laundry, and got dressed to work out. I wandered downstairs, sat in front of my computer for a little while, and was just about to stand up and go exercise when the tornado sirens started going off. I glanced out the back window to see a very dark sky, and turned on the television set to see if I was about to die. The really bad weather was apparently going into towns nearby, but wasn’t headed directly for Madison, so I left the TV going while I got some journal reading done. After a while, when the dark sky seemed to have pretty much gone away, I decided to get my butt in gear and get the 30 minutes on the elliptical out of the way. As I stood up to turn the TV off, the weather guy said “We just got an email from someone who wants us to put Regis & Kelly back on the air!”, then went into a long (and defensive) explanation about how they’re trying to help, that if a tornado was coming toward the email writer, he’d certainly want to know about it. It made me laugh, because how many times have Fred and I bitched and whined about the fact that the local weather guys have cut in on one of our shows (almost always Survivor) to tell us about the bad weather and then staying on for a good half hour, thus messing up the show for us? About a million times, that’s how many! I had this vision of a cranky old guy sitting in front of his TV yelling “Shut the fuck up! I don’t care, there’s no tornadic activity headed toward me! Put Regis and Kelly back on! Mary, where’s the WebTV controller? I’m going to email that weather-spouting bastard!” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ While I’m on the elliptical, I like to watch movies – I know I’ve mentioned that before – and yesterday I finished watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I’d never seen it before, and after I read Mo’s review of it, I added it to my Netflix queue. I enjoyed the movie, and most importantly it took my mind off what I was doing, and that’s the kind of movie you want to be watching while you’re on your brand-spanking-new ass-kicking elliptical trainer, believe you me. (More about the elliptical in a minute) Anyway, I enjoyed the movie because Audrey Hepburn is just mesmerizing and has the most beautiful eyes. George Peppard was a hottie in his day (he was pretty good-looking in his later years, too, for that matter), but Andy Mickey Rooney’s character just made me cringe. Because, ugh. Now, when I read Mo’s review and read the bit about the cat, I was all “Oh, silly Mo. It’s just a movie! You can’t get that upset about a movie!”, but you know what? When Holly opened the cab door and pushed that cat into the FUCKING RAIN and the cab drove off with that POOR FUCKING CAT sitting there in the rain looking confused, I really wanted to haul off and smack Holly really really hard. That poor fucking cat! One minute he’s cozy and dry and the next he’s shoved out into the cold rain because Holly has to make her point. Poor Cat! I have to say that that was one mighty well-trained cat, though. If I ever wanted any of my cats to sit calmly in the rain, I’m sure they’d suggest that I go straight to hell. Anyway, it was a good movie; I recommend it. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ So remember how, back in December, I went on an exercise strike because the elliptical was squeaking and I couldn’t stand it? Well, we now have a new elliptical. It’s a LifeFitness X9i, and compared to what we had before (a NordicTrack something-or-other) it’s incredible. Going from the NordicTrack to the LifeFitness was like going from a broken-down secondhand rusted-out car (you know, the kind you have to add half a quart of oil to before you go anywhere) to a brand-new Cadillac. (I’d assume, anyway – I’ve never driven a Cadillac.) This machine is NICE. It’s quiet, it’s sturdy, it has a ton of programs, or you can create your OWN program. The stride is comfortable, there’s plenty of places to put your water and the TV remote, and it has TWENTY intensity levels. And it kicks my ass. I’m sure that part of that is because I took time off from exercising, but probably part of it is because it’s a better machine than the one we had. At this point it’s only been a week since I started back exercising and I’m only doing a simple program where I stay at the same resistance through the entire workout, but I’ve improved some in that today was the first time I didn’t need to stop and rest my legs halfway through the workout. I think I’m going to give it a few more days before I actually do one of the interval programs. So anyway, two thumbs up to the elliptical trainer. It’s quiet, I have no trouble watching the TV (or hearing it), and it’s sturdy as hell. It was expensive, but at this point I think it was definitely worth it. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Is it just me, or is Mister Boogers not really into smacking at that toy? It’s like he’s humoring Fred. “Yeah, okay, Dad. I’ll smack at the toy. WhatEVer.” ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~]]>

(Pardon the crappy pictures) Anyway, I found frames for all three pictures – black frames, in case you’re wondering – and ended up buying a few other things because of COURSE I can’t go into Target and buy just what I went in for. I left Target and went to Sam’s, where I stocked up on water, gum, toothbrushes, shaving gel. You know, the usual exciting stuff. Fred had asked me to look at Sam’s and see if they carry big containers of the beef jerky I got at Wal-Mart the other day. Kate got me started on it while I was in Maine, and I got Fred started on it – he likes it even more than I do, if that’s possible. Sam’s had all kinds of beef jerky, but none of them were beef nuggets of course, so when I left Sam’s I decided to head up the street to Wal-Mart and see if I could get more packages there. I hate Wal-Mart. Target has spoiled me, because now when I walk into Wal-Mart and see pallets of stuff laying everywhere it just annoys me. This Wal-Mart is right down the street from Target, and whereas Target was slightly busy this morning, Wal-Mart was wall-to-wall packed with people. I walked along the checkout lanes looking for the desired beef jerky, in original flavor, but could find only one pack. I was getting more and more annoyed because there were thousands and thousands of packets of the teriyaki flavored nuggets, but the original flavor was nowhere to be seen. Finally I decided to make one last check of the lanes, and when I approached lane 15, I hit the mother lode. There was an entire box of the original flavor, and I grabbed as many bags as I could hold. I stood in line behind people who were moving as slow as molasses (YES, GODDAMNIT! I HAVE CONFIRMED THAT YOU CAN, IN FACT, BEGIN WRITING THE FUCKING CHECK BEFORE YOU ACTUALLY HEAR WHAT THE TOTAL IS, YOU IN-MY-WAY MOTHERFUCKER!) and a cashier who was moving even slower. Due to the fact that I hadn’t eaten breakfast I was far more impatient and ready to snap than I usually am and I just wanted to push everyone right the hell out of my way and throw money at the cashier and run out, clutching my beef jerky to my chest, but I refrained because I hate those impatient-acting, sighing, tapping, muttering assholes. Even if, secretly, I AM one of those assholes, it wasn’t necessary to prove it to everyone else around me. I finally left Wal-Mart THANK GOD and then had to go to the post office to drop off a million zillion trillion packages. And then, because I had been so outwardly calm and shown no evidence of the murderous rage I was feeling at Wal-Mart, I decided to reward myself with a king-size Diet Coke from Burger King. Those pussies at McDonald’s might have caved in to pressure and taken away their super-sized drinks and fries, but Burger King still has ’em, so HA! Nectah of the gods. And now I’m starving to death, so I’m going to go eat. Buh-bye!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Oh, but wait. Did I show you the picture I got for my birthday from Fred? I don’t think I did. I’ve been wanting this picture for ages and ages, and so I finally just asked for it. And got it! It’s in a different frame, though. I love, love, LOVE this picture. It’s hanging on my bedroom wall where I can see it from the bed, and I love to just lay in bed and look at it. Does my husband rock, or what? (That’s a rhetorical question. I think we all know he rocks the casbah.) ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~]]>

so far, bet I can if I really work at it…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Man. It’s only 12:30, and thus far today I’ve: exercised, taken a shower, done laundry, had my hair colored and cut, dropped off packages at the post office, gone to get a new driver’s license, rented a couple of movies, and picked up a bunch of school supplies at Staples for the spud. I need a nap. Nothing against the woman who does my hair, but I always hate having my hair done, because it takes an hour and a half, or thereabouts, and I get bored and fidgety. At least I had a decent ‘do for the driver’s license picture. Getting my driver’s license was the least painful part of the morning, because it took literally less than five minutes. I guess 11:20 on a Tuesday morning is not the busiest time at the license place. I was in and out of there in no time. Our neighbor, the realtor who sold us this house, was in there as well, and spent the entire time he was transacting his business on his cell phone. Rude bastard. (Here in Madison, the Department of Motor Vehicles has a small offshoot in the local grocery store, so I don’t actually have to shlep all the way into Huntsville THANK GOD.) Tomorrow, I have an eye appointment because I’m about out of contacts, which means it’s time to go see the doctor and get a new year’s worth of contacts. I hate going to see the eye doctor. After my appointment, I have to hit Target and Sam’s, which means it’s going to be a busy morning for me. And at some point I need to pick up all the empty boxes laying around the house (seriously, there’s a pile of three boxes in the corner of the computer room, a couple by the garage door, and one by the front door) and figure out a new home for them. I also need to vacuum the downstairs and balance the checkbook. I think I need another vacation. It’s all good, though, because at least THIS is not the week where I have my appointment with the gynecologist. That’s next week, and if I’m not looking forward to seeing the eye doctor, I’m REALLY not looking forward to seeing the gynecologist. I’m already dreading it, even though I know it will be fast and relatively painless, but I always dread it for ages and ages beforehand. It’s probably a good thing that birth control pills aren’t over-the-counter, because if I didn’t have to go back and see her to get a prescription for another year, I doubt I’d EVER go see her. At least it’s 71 degrees out right now. But I could use a little sun, too. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ So, the spud started driver’s ed yesterday. When she got home, she told me that the driver’s ed teacher is licensed to give driving tests. Which means that once driver’s ed is up, he can give the kids their test to determine whether they’re ready for their license, which will be mighty convenient since we won’t have to shlep into Huntsville for her to take the test. (Can you tell that shlepping into Huntsville isn’t really my favorite thing?) This is both convenient and scary – because it means that the spud could have her license in just a few short months, which means she will then be able to DRIVE down the ROAD with other vehicles on the road as well. Scary. But convenient for those times when we’ve run out of, say, milk. I can just give her money and send her to the store! And she can go buy her own school supplies! And she can go pick up her own school schedule next August! Still a little scary, but I’m sure I’ll get over it the first time I say “Spud, go to McDonald’s and get me a Diet Coke!” and she DOES. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Last night we watched the first two episodes of 24 we’d taped Sunday night. Toward the end of last season – which we watched on DVD because we hadn’t yet realized the magic of Jack Bauer when it was on TV last year – we noticed that Jack was saying “Okay, fine” ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and Tony was saying “Yeah, sure.” Swear to god, in at least one episode, they were saying nothing BUT “Okay, fine” and “Yeah, sure.” Fred and I decided that the writers had a bet that they could get Jack and Tony to say their respective lines like twenty times each. Chloe: “Jack, I need your permission to floople the doop.” Jack: “Okay, fine.” Chloe: “Tony, Michelle’s on the phone. Do you want me to put her through?” Tony: “Yeah, sure.” Chloe: “Are you sure?” Tony: “Yeah, sure.” Chloe: “Tony’s on the phone, Jack. And terrorists are going to be attacking CTU within the hour. I’m going to run my annoying yet appealingly quirky self into the lady’s room and confront someone and tell them I don’t care what they think about me and whether they believe me, because I’m telling the truth.” Jack: “Okay, fine.” You get the idea. So last night I went through a phase where every time Jack came on the screen and someone asked or told him something, I’d guess that he was going to say “Okay, fine.” But he never said it, not even once. Hmph. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Did I mention that I did a lot of shopping while I was in Maine? I ended up buying a ton of calendars – one more than I actually have space for. When I see calendars on sale for 50% off, I have a hard, hard time resisting. I’m only human, you know! So for now I have two calendars by my desk and one hanging on the refrigerator. I think I’m going to have to put one in the giveaway box, though it’s a Get Fuzzy calendar, and I do love the Get Fuzzy. Obviously I need a bigger house with more calendar-hanging wall space! Anyway, one of the calendars is by National Geographic, and it’s called “Moons“. The pictures are gorgeous, and sitting at my desk I find myself gazing appreciatively at the “January” picture. The other calendar is called Why Cats Do That, and each month has a picture of a cat doing something, and an explanation of why they do it. January’s picture is of a cat grooming, and the explanation (“Because it keeps them clean. DUH. Also, it tones their muscles.”) underneath. And lastly, on the refrigerator hangs the Gary Patterson calendar I get every year because a) I love the pictures, and b) it comes with a magnetic strip for ease of hanging AND a pen with a magnet on the back. And now I believe I’ve yammered on about calendars quite long enough. Plus, I’m hungry as hell. See you tomorrow! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Spanky would like his snack now, please. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~]]>

New logo for the new month, this one by reader Beth, made back in October. Oh, little kitties just crack me up. Thanks, Beth!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ So, Sonic lovers, how do you pronounce “route”, as in “I’ll have a Route 44 Diet Coke, please.”? Do you pronounce it “root” or do you pronounce it “rowt”? Because I pronounce it “root”, and the people at the Sonic around the corner act like I’m an idiot, carefully repeating my order back to me “That’s a ROWT 44 Diet Coke?” like I might get the hint. Oh, hell. I think this calls for a poll, don’t you?

“Root” or “Rowt”? Do you pronounce “route” (as in, “Route 44 Diet Coke”) “root” or “rowt”? “Root”, of course! “Rowt”! Duh. I don’t visit Sonic. I have more class than that. I have no opinion. I just want to vote. Current Results

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Julie at Subversive Cross Stitch is donating 100% of all sales through today to AmeriCares to assist in the tsunami relief effort. She’s got some hilarious stuff over there – go buy, quick! I’ll tell you what – if you want one of the cross-stitch pictures, but either can’t cross-stitch or don’t want to be bothered, buy the kit, send it to me, and I’ll do it for you and send it back. Fair enough? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ So yes, the spud and I are back from Maine. In fact, we got back Thursday afternoon to a clean house and kitties thrilled to have us home. The house was clean because Fred called a cleaning service to come clean the house from top to bottom the day before we got home. They did a good job, and it’s always nice to come home to a clean house. (It was actually my idea to have them come clean. It was his follow-through that made it happen, though. He rocks, you know.) Of course, four days later the entire house needs to be vacuumed again. I’d use my earnings from the lottery I won when I was in Maine, but I forgot to play the damn lottery, so there are no winnings for me. Damnit. We did some serious-ass shopping while I was in Maine. We went shopping all but one or two days, and I got some really awesome stuff on sale. I didn’t, you will be amazed to hear, buy any books. Oh, wait – that’s a lie. I did buy one book, but it was on sale and I was already buying a calendar, and – MOST IMPORTANTLY – it was before January 1st, so I was okay. How many people really believe I’ll go the entire year buying no books except for those put out by my favorite authors? Hell, I’m not sure I believe it myself. I bought a ton of stuff on sale (the sales were awesome. Did I mention?) and ended up not only going to one of those places where they pack boxes for you to have the breakable stuff packed and shipped home, but I also filled up an entire suitcase with the unbreakable stuff. This only worked because the spud and I each got a suitcase from my parents for Christmas. Suitcases from Hawaii, by the way. I need to snap a picture of them to show y’all how cute they are. Not only did we shop a lot, we ate out at least one meal a day, every day. I got to visit my favorite restaurants – Vinny T’s twice, the Muddy Rudder, an Italian from The Kitty Korner. I had orange Hostess cupcakes and a couple of whoopie pies – all the food I look forward to when planning a trip to Maine. We threw a baby shower for my brother’s girlfriend at the Muddy Rudder, and there was an amazing amount of presents for her to open. I love checking out all the baby stuff and loved buying a bunch of stuff for them, but I for sure wasn’t having the yearning to have another kid. That might change this summer when I get to meet my newest niece or nephew and hold him/ her, but I doubt it – I don’t think another kid is in the cards for us. My brother’s girlfriend is adorable and was completely taken by surprise by the shower, and even more taken by surprise by the fact that my brother was there. My other brother – Tracy – and his wife, Kate, and their kids were already in Maine when I got there, but our visits only overlapped by a day and a half. I was sad to see them go, but glad to get the basement bedroom back, because it’s hell trying to sleep in a single bed when you’re used to a queen. Kate looked absolutely amazing; she had weight loss surgery back at the end of March and has lost more than 110 pounds. It was so weird to see her in person, because I’ve been seeing the pictures, but seeing her in person was a whole different thing, and I had a hard time looking directly at her at first, because my brain just couldn’t comprehend the amazing difference. So I’d stare at her, look away while my brain thought about it, stare at her some more, look away, and so on. Luckily I got over that pretty quickly; it’s amazing to see a difference like that. She’s a tiny thing now – I was afraid I was going to break her when I hugged her. Also, she turned me on to Jack Link’s Beefsteak Nuggets. That stuff is like crack – I finally went to Wal-Mart this morning and bought some of it because I’ve been craving it. I’m not usually a beef jerky fan, but this stuff is really good. Chock-full of protein, too! Also, Typhoid Kate (hee!) gave me her cold. My parents kept insisting that I stuff as many Vitamin C tablets down my throat as I could, and use the ZiCam spray every day, and I have to say that I actually think it worked. I had a cold for about a week – it still hasn’t completely gone away – but it wasn’t severe enough to stop me from shopping, eating out, or going to the movies. (To be honest, I don’t think a brain tumor could stop me from shopping, etc. I’d be yelling “Yeah, I gotta get out of here, there’s a sale at my favorite Hallmark store. Let’s go, Doc, dig that fucker out!”) Let’s see… Oh, like I said, we went to the movies. We saw Meet the Fockers (sucked), National Treasure (awesome), and Ocean’s 12 (not bad – I just like to see all the pretty faces). I’m surprised we only saw three movies this time, but there wasn’t a big selection of movies we wanted to see, either. I spent New Year’s Eve with Liz. We went to dinner at The Outback, which wasn’t bad. The coconut shrimp was awesome, the honey-mustard dressing on my salad was the best I’ve ever had, but the rest of the food? Eh. I had the ribs and chicken, and probably would have been happier at LoneStar. After dinner, we saw Bob Marley* at the Merrill Auditorium, which is only a few blocks from Liz’s apartment. *Bob Marley the comedian, not Bob Marley the reggae guy. When Liz asked if I’d be interested in seeing Bob Marley, I said “Yeah, sure!”, all the while thinking “I had no idea Liz liked Reggae!” It took about two days for the information that she was referring to the comedian to break through the fog encasing my brain. The guy who opened for Bob Marley – whose name I can’t remember – was funny once or twice, but he relied way too much on making fun of gays and the mentally handicapped for my taste. Bob Marley himself was funny at times, but the crowd was going absolutely nuts over stuff that I only thought was mildly humorous. I sure do sound like a snob, don’t I? I guess part of the problem was that I couldn’t concentrate on what he was saying, because it was absolutely sweltering in that auditorium, and the stairs were really steep, and I was scared shitless that someone was going to come along and trip over my feet and go flying. I’m sure that if I’d been comfortable he would have been totally hilarious. Or not – he’s another comedian who relied in a large part on making fun of the mentally handicapped. What the hell is up with that? I don’t think I’ve ever seen any of the big comedians doing jokes like that. You’d never see Jerry Seinfeld staggering around the stage and expecting us to find it funny, would you? (Yeah, sue me. I think Jerry Seinfeld is funny as hell.) Anyway, I dropped Liz off at her apartment after the show and headed home. Except I decided to drive up Forest Avenue to look for a gas station, so I could stop and get a bottle of water. I found a gas station, but it didn’t look all that open, so I kept going, and got all confused because Forest Avenue ends, and there were traffic lights flashing in all directions and I couldn’t figure out when the fuck it was my turn to go, so I pulled a U-turn and went back to the gas station I’d passed, to find that it was actually open. I bought a bottle of water and headed back from whence I’d come, intending to get on 95 or 295 or whatever the hell it is, only I passed the turn without realizing. So I turned around and passed the turn again, turned around, and passed the turn yet again. Swear to god, y’all, I hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol. Add to that the fact that every single time I so much as thought about hitting the brakes, my purse went flying onto the floor, and you might understand why at 11:50 pm on the last night of the year I was bellowing “WHEN THE FUCK AM I GOING TO FIND MYSELF OUT OF THIS HELL, O LORD?” But I eventually got it figured out and was on the highway and halfway home when I glanced at the clock and noticed that I was ten minutes into the new year without having realized it. I haven’t been up past midnight on New Year’s Eve for probably ten years, now. There was very little traffic on the road, and I made it home safe and sound with no further problems. So, I guess that about hits the highlights. I spent lots of time with my sister and mother, did a ton of shopping, eating, reading, and movie-watching. Did some frantic looking for cheap t-shirts for the spud to get for her friends – on Wednesday, we found that Cool as a Moose in Freeport was moving locations, and was selling their t-shirts for $5 each. I bought several, along with a couple for the spud, but didn’t know that she was on the lookout for shirts for her friends, so didn’t get any for her. The lady working at the location where they were selling the $5 t-shirts said they’d be there until Friday. When the spud told us Wednesday night that she wanted to get t-shirts for her friends, we decided we’d go back to Freeport the next day. We did, but they’d closed the old location and were moving everything out. When we tried the new location on Monday, they were closed for inventory. When we went BACK on Wednesday, they said there’d be no more $5 shirts, but that they’d bring the shirts up from the basement eventually and sell them for $9.99. We looked at some more stores in the area, and finally I said “Why don’t we just go back and get some of the $9.99 t-shirts they already have out, and I’ll pay half?” The spud was amenable to that, because we’d been to all the discount stores in the area – Marden’s, Reny’s, Grand City – and found nothing even approaching a $5 t-shirt. The day we left, we had plenty of time to kill in the airport (my father wanted us to leave the house at 8:00. For a flight that left at 10:55. It takes 45 minutes to get to the airport. I don’t think leaving three hours early is really the way to go. We left the house at 8:30, and still had an hour and a half to kill before the flight left.) and went into the gift shop. I bet you know where I’m going with this, don’t you? Yeah. Maine t-shirts for $4.49. I guess next time we’re going to hit the damn gift shop before we do anything! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ We flew Independence Air this time, and I recommend it. What I do NOT recommend, however, is choosing to sit in the front row. Because you THINK you’re going to have more leg room, but you really don’t. And naturally I’d chosen the front-row seats on every single flight. It sucked, is what I’m saying. The flight attendants were funny and nice (although I have to say that I have yet to have a flight attendant on any airline who doesn’t rock – you have to have a sense of humor in that job, I tell you) and the snacks weren’t bad. They even offered hot towels at the end of the flight, and mints, too! If you have a chance to fly Independence, I say you go for it before they file bankruptcy. I don’t recommend you ever fly into the Portland airport, though. My god, it’s about half the size it needs to be, about five other flights landed at the same time ours did, and only one luggage carousel was working, and every asshole in the vicinity thought the best idea would be to stand belly-up to the carousel so that no one else could get to their luggage. They had a carousel packed with luggage, and just kept tossing it on there. Suck, suck, suck. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Thanks, y’all, for the birthday wishes yesterday. I had a very low-key day. We went out Friday for Mexican and had my birthday cake, so yesterday I just opened my presents (books, and new slippers from LL Bean. Whee!), tried to catch up on my journal reading, and took a midday nap. It was a good day, topped off by a dinner of garlic slow-cooked chicken. YumMY. Saturday I got not one, but two bouquets of flowers. A dozen roses from Fred, and an arrangement of flowers from Liz. I do love fresh flowers, and just seeing the vases of flowers sitting in the living room makes me smile. My mother, while I was in Maine, said “I hate your wish list! There’s nothing but books on there!” I said “Nuh UH! There are movies and CDs on it, too! Cold Mountain is on there!” She said, “Oh, really?” And when I got home from Maine I found an Amazon box waiting for me. Inside were my birthday presents from my parents – Cold Mountain, the Cold Mountain soundtrack, and Return to Cold Mountain. Gee, do you get the impression that I might’ve liked that movie and the music from it? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~]]>

one way to start off the new year right.

* * * Happy new year, y’all! I’m having a good time. I’ve done tons of shopping, went to one movie this afternoon, and will be going to another this evening. More next week. Have a great week!]]>

Reader Suzi is having problems seeing the pictures and title graphic on my site. Is anyone else having problems? And does anyone have any suggestions as to what’s going on? Leave any suggestions in the comments, please.

* * * It’s incredibly freakin’ early, and the spud and I are about to leave for the airport. Have I mentioned that we’re going to Maine for 9 days? Suddenly it occurs to me that I haven’t said a thing about it, which is strange because it’s been on the forefront of my mind as I spent most of yesterday rushing around packing and doing laundry and vacuuming like a madwoman (you don’t EVEN want to know how much crap I got off my stairs with the Dyson yesterday morning. Blech. Also, it’s been a year since I got the Dyson, which I still love and adore. Happy first birthday, little Dyson, and thanks for all the cat hair you’ve sucked out of my carpet!) We’re flying Independence Air which, I am told, is about to start bankruptcy proceedings. Loovely. As long as they get my ass there and back first, they can go bankrupt all the live-long day. I had thought that I would bring the laptop with me and do an entry every day, since I’m doing the 31 Days thing and the Holidailies thing, but I just don’t want to drag that freakin’ laptop through the airport, I don’t want to have to deal with my father’s dial-up connection, so I’ve decided I’m going on vacation, and I won’t be messing with any damn computers. ‘Cause I deserve a break today, you know? I’ll be back in Alabama on the 6th, and it’s possible that there might be an entry up the next day, but I wouldn’t count on it. Don’t get worried until the 10th (day after my birthday! Birthday cake! Whee!) has come and gone and I haven’t posted an entry. At that point, you have my full permission to start bugging Fred, but until then, be patient. I’ll be back, with ten thousand pictures, and a bunch of stories, I’m sure. I do have a buttload of cat pictures for you. Let’s see if this puts you in the mood for a nap, huh? (Behave yourselves, and I’ll see you on the flip side!) “Come give me a kiss, beautiful.” Booger and the ladybug. Doesn’t he have gorgeous eyes? You don’t impress him much. “One day Daddy will let me get the toy…” Talk about your long-suffering look! Clearly, all that yawning wore him out.]]>

* * * From my comments: I figured if anyone would know the answer to this question,”WHERE IS NANCE“….it would be you 🙂 I check at her journal every day and there hasn’t been a posting since the 18th. You both are my all time favorites, so please please help an addicted journal reader out. Well, I know she’s still alive, ’cause I just got an email from her last night, so she’s not being held hostage by terrorists. I haven’t asked her directly, because she might yell at me and tell me to stop pressuring her, but I imagine she’s just taking a little time off to relax, and when she’s got the time and is so inclined, she’ll put up another entry. Personally I think she should quit working so she can hang around all day to entertain me, but I have a feeling she doesn’t see it that way. Hmph! * * * Christmas card stats for 2004! (Last year’s stats are here.) Date I started addressing cards: November 27th (way earlier than last year!) Date I finished: December 20th. Total cards sent out (not including family): 327. States receiving 10 or more cards: California (25), Illinois (17), Michigan (10), New Jersey (11), Ohio (15), Pennsylvania (12), Texas (15), Washington (11), Wisconsin (12). States who don’t love me and didn’t want a card: Delaware, Nebraska, Vermont, Wyoming. Other countries receiving cards: Canada (27), New Zealand (2), Australia (7), United Kingdom (4), Sweden (1), Netherlands (2), Republic of Korea (1), Portugal (1), Germany (2), Iceland (1), Finland (1), Scotland (1), Japan (2). Most often recurring first names: Amy, Chris/Christine/Christy, Donna, Erin, Jennifer, Karen, Katherine/ Catherine, Laura, Lisa, Michele/ Michelle, Patricia/ Patty/ Patti/ Pat, Susan. Number of cards kicked back as undeliverable: Just one so far. Percentage of probability that I accidentally sent out more than one card to at least one person: 100. Was I terribly organized about my card sending this year?: Totally, scarily organized. Did I have a lot of fun shopping for funny cards?: You betcha. What I’ll do differently next year: Not a damn thing. I did an astoundingly good job this year. Number of cards I’ve received: 130 (as of Friday morning) (Edited 1/14/05) I got home from Maine in January to find another 40 cards waiting for me. That means I got a total of 170 cards. That’s pretty damn awesome. Thanks everyone for the awesome cards you sent, as well as the family pictures, the yearly newsletters, and the pictures of your cats. I love getting them! I didn’t display the cards this year, but a few people asked to see all the cards I got, so I set them up on the kitchen counter and took a bunch of pictures. These are big-ass pictures, in case you were wondering. (Edited 1/14/05: I’ve deleted the pictures of the cards, in the interest of saving space) I didn’t take pictures of any of the picture cards, because they wouldn’t stand up, and also because a lot of the picture cards had first and last names on them, and hello! Stalker alert! Better to be safe than sorry, y’know. * * * We were driving to Fred’s father and stepmother’s house on Friday evening, and Fred and I started talking about the song Do They Know It’s Christmas? Fred made fun of George Michael’s part in the song (I don’t remember which line that is) and then I said “What about the one Bono sings?” and then I sang (badly) “Tonight thank god it’s them instead of youuuuuuuuuu!” Fred laughed, and then from the back seat, the spud piped up, making fun of my horrible singing voice. “Mom, you’re going to be bigger than Britney Spears!” Well, really. How could I NOT say it? “Oh, I think I already AM bigger than Britney Spears. Twice as big, probably!” They thought that was quite funny. And two minutes later, Do They Know It’s Christmas came on the radio. It’s just not Christmas until I hear that song, for some reason. * * * The spud went with me to feed-and-scoop at the pet store this morning. There were only four cats there – Squeaky, Hobart, Duckie, and Rosalind – so it took me maybe twenty minutes to clean all their cages. I didn’t get any pictures, though, sorry. Anyway, at one point Fred called, and while I was standing there talking to him, Hobart decided it would be a good idea to leap up and sink his claws into my stomach, and then attempt to climb me. Having a small cat, no matter how skinny and light, sink his claws into your stomach is NO FUCKING FUN, believe you me. I screamed and grabbed Hobart so he’d let go. On the other end of the phone, Fred seemed to think it was funny as hell. Bastard. Hobart is an awfully sweet little guy and I love him to death, but he has no concept of “don’t bite” and “don’t scratch.” He’d certainly give Mister Boogers a run for his money! * * * Fred’s stepsister’s husband has lost a lot of weight since we saw him last Christmas. I don’t know exactly how much he’s lost, but if I had to guess, I’d say he’s lost about 100 pounds. He looks absolutely amazing. When Fred’s sister asked how he’d lost the weight (because you’ve gotta ask!), he said he’d cut out the sugar, cut back on portion sizes, and cut down the carbs a little. He ate a big salad and a couple of pieces of lasagna at dinner, but he didn’t have a piece of the cake Fred made. He seemed so much happier this year; he’s been a pretty quiet guy in the past, but he was downright chatty this year. He actually talked to Fred about going hiking together, which would be cool. He’s a really nice guy, and it was neat to see the changes in him, physically and otherwise. * * * I saw this in the grocery store parking lot this morning and it made me laugh. * * * Miz Poo lurves the sun. * * *]]>

mandarin muffins for breakfast yesterday and then again for lunch, and a better Christmas day breakfast does not exist. The oyster dressing was made by Fred’s stepfather, who is from Louisiana, and the man knows what he’s doing when he’s in the kitchen. Everything he makes (with the exception of stuff made from deer meat, because I have that mental “Bambi!” block going on) is sheer heaven. Really bad for you, too, but if you can’t eat stuff that’s bad for you at Christmas, when can you? So we got home from Fred’s father’s house around 9 Friday night. We carried our presents inside and put stuff away, and then the spud went upstairs and I started carrying the presents in to put under the tree, and Fred came to see what I was doing, and I said “Why do they have to give her SO MANY FUCKING PRESENTS??” Of course, I think everyone should give her tons and tons of presents, but I was tired and had to carry the presents into the living room from the dining room and I just wanted to go upstairs and get into my nightgown and exchange presents with Fred. Fred, on the other hand, was looking toward Christmas morning and thinking about how long it was going to take the spud to open her presents – about two hours, on average, because I make her keep track of who gave her what, so she knows what to say in her thank you notes – and he said “Why don’t we let her open some of her presents tonight?” And I was aghast “Let her open presents tonight? Without watching??” Fred said “She can take them up to her room, open them, and then show us what she got.” The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a really good idea, and so I agreed. I went into our room to change into my nightgown, and I heard him knock on her bedroom door. “Go get ten – no, fifteen! – presents that you want to open from under the tree, and you can open them tonight and then show us what you got.” “But none from us!” I yelled. “Yeah, make sure none of the presents you bring up to open are from us,” he said. So she did, and while she was opening her presents we exchanged presents – I got several books from my wish list and the Live Aid DVDs, which I had seen advertised on TV when we were watching TV. I said “Oh, I want those!” and them promptly forgot about them. Fred, however, didn’t forget. I guess he DOES listen! I gave Fred a t-shirt that says “If I got smart with you, how would you know?”, which was a big hit, a remote-control flying saucer that turned out to be a piece of crap, a couple of books, and the Star Wars trilogy. By the time we were done exchanging presents, the spud was about a third of the way through the fifteen she’d brought upstairs, so we went to check out what she got. She got some pretty cool stuff, but I would say that the hit of the night was the bathroom set my sister and mother sent her.

We laid down and talked for a while, and then finally the spud came to get us, because she’d finished opening her presents. We went into her room and ooh’d and aaah’d, and then Fred kissed me goodnight and went to bed, and I went and read for a while before turning out the light. I’d told Fred to get me up at 8, but I woke up before then, and was actually in the shower by 8. The spud was up a few minutes later and started her laundry and cleaned her bathroom while she was waiting. (And no, I didn’t even have to tell her to do her chores. She just knew, because it was Saturday, that they needed to be done!) Then we traipsed downstairs and the spud handed out the presents and we all opened ours. Of course, the spud still had so many presents to open that she was still opening them half an hour after Fred and I were done, so I got up and started making the muffins, and the spud showed me each thing she got as she opened it. She got about ten thousand Precious Moments things from her father and his wife, and her paternal grandparents. “Well, because I collect them,” she told us. “Did you know she was collecting them?” Fred asked me. “I had no idea,” I said. “Well, I didn’t tell you,” she said. “Oh.” She and I both got some adorable pajama bottoms from my sister, who always knows the perfect things to buy for me. I also got some bath stuff from her, and books from my parents, and a book from the spud, among a host of many, many other things. My nephew Brian sent me a pair of smiley-face socks which I’m wearing right now. They’re fuzzy and warm and make me grin when I look down at them. My parents also sent a framed picture that my mother picked up when she was in Paris with Brian and his class last year. I knew it was a picture, but I didn’t know which one it was until yesterday morning. The Basilique du Sacr� Coeur. I took it upstairs and hung it over the washstand that used to belong to Fred’s grandmother, and it just really warms up that area. I wouldn’t have thought that a picture of a church in France would work with the other stuff in our house, but it looks really good. And then… let’s see, then Fred’s mother and stepfather dropped by to drop off a container of oyster dressing, and Fred hung around until the spud was done opening her presents, then he left to go for a hike. The spud and I ate some of the muffins, and then she went upstairs to look at her presents and watch TV, and I puttered around the house, then tried to open Movable Type so I could put up an entry. But something somewhere was fucked up, and instead of logging into MT, I was given an error, and I called Fred to consult, and he told me to put in a support request and by the time the problem was fixed, I didn’t want to put up an entry. So I didn’t. I spent the afternoon napping and reading, and Fred and the spud watched Jurassic Park 3: My God This Sucks. Then we had pizza for dinner (Domino’s and Papa John’s were closed, but Pizza Inn was open) and it wasn’t half bad, especially because it didn’t require me to cook. I chatted with Debbie for a little while, and then I called her, because talking is faster than typing – except maybe for Jane, who is the world’s fastest typer, in the space of time it takes me to type “Ha!”, she’s written roughly 63,000 words and is waiting impatiently for me to respond – and we talked for about an hour. Good thing weekend minutes don’t count with our phone plan, that’s all I can say. When I got off the phone, Fred and I started watching 24, and watched the last four episodes. Round about the second-to-last episode, we noticed that Jack likes to say “Okay, fine” and Tony likes to say “Yeah, alright”, and it was ridiculous how many times they each said their phrase. I once suggested to Fred that when stuff like that happens, it’s because one of the writers for the show has a bet going with another writer – “I bet I can get Jack to say “Okay, fine” 16 times in the space of half an hour!” – or when characters are put into an impossible situation, it’s because one team of writers is like “Let’s do THIS. I bet the other guys will NEVER figure out a way to get them out of this situation! Ha!”, so now when something big happens, Fred says “And another team of writers high-five!” That Chloe sure does get on my nerves. She’s an odd duck, that character. Aaaaanyway, by the time we were done with the last episode of 24, it was 10, so we snuggled in bed for a while, and then called it a night. It was a great Christmas day, because it was relaxing, I got a lot of books, and I didn’t have to cook! Oh, that cake that Fred made for Christmas Eve at his Dad’s? It was absolutely amazing. I was a little worried, because when I tried the frosting when he was making it, it seemed a little bitter. When the cake and the frosting were combined, though, it was awesome. And speaking of being at his father’s house – my gift from his father and stepmother was several books, and a card with money in it. As he told me, “I didn’t want to just get you books, and that’s all you had on your wish list!” The funny thing is that chances are good I’ll use that money to buy… more books, of course! Hey, I have to stock up before the first of the year, since I’ve proclaimed I won’t buy any more books in 2005 until the ones I already have have been read. (Except for my favorite authors, that is.) Thirteen days, and I’m going to be 37. Whee! * * * “Is it over yet?” ]]>

* * * Did you know that you can have your cat cloned, now? I love all of our cats to death, but I for sure can’t see paying that much money to have one of them cloned. But as Fred pointed out, when technology gets better, prices will drop, and $2500 for another Mister Boogers is not a bad price. Of course, it’s only $80 at the shelter, and I think paying a lot of money when there are so many cats who need homes and so many being put to sleep every day is not something I would easily go along with. Although, it would be pretty fun to have him cloned now and then see his reaction when we brought home another Mister Boogers? I bet that right there would make for some damn good pictures. * * * I had to get up at 6:20 this morning, because I volunteered to cover for the regular Friday morning person at the pet store. When I was up and dressed and had put my contacts in, I realized that I was really freakin’ cold, so I knocked on Fred’s door and went and laid down with him, because he has an electric blanket, and it was turned on. Bliss. Five minutes of early-morning chat, snuggled under the electric blanket, was enough to start me off in a good mood, despite the fact that I had to get up at 6:20 after staying up ’til almost midnight. I need my beauty rest, y’know. After the spud and I went to the pet store (no pictures this week, because there have been no new kitties, and this morning the spud and I were kind of in a rush), we came home and I showered and blow-dried my hair and got dressed, and then we were back out the door headed for Denny’s. Fred’s mother’s hand is in a splint because she had surgery last month, so she wasn’t really up for cooking, and it was decided that we’d just meet at Denny’s for breakfast, then go back to her house to exchange presents and sit around for a while, before we all went our separate ways for naps. The traffic into Huntsville wasn’t bad, and Denny’s wasn’t too busy, and Fred’s mother and stepfather were there when we got there, seated, so we didn’t have to wait. A few minutes later his sister and her boyfriend arrived. Fred thought it was funny that his sister had to explain to her boyfriend, who is from France, what “French toast” is. Altogether we spent a little more than an hour in Denny’s, though I made the mistake of sitting with my back to the rest of the restaurant, so I couldn’t really see what was going on (I like to people watch, you know?) Suddenly, Fred looked across the room and said “Hey, it’s Bud Cr@mer!” Bud Cr@mer being our congressional representative. Fred’s stepfather actually knows him – he had him as a lawyer before Bud ran for Congress – and went over to talk to him for a minute. I double-dog dared Fred to go over and take his picture – I mean, I know it’s silly, but who expects to see a Congressman in the local Denny’s? – but he wouldn’t, and finally his sister, who was in the best position to see him, snapped a shot, though a blurry one. When we were done eating breakfast – I had the ham and cheddar omelet and it wasn’t half bad – we got into our respective cars and headed for Fred’s mother’s house. The traffic still wasn’t bad, which surprised me. I expected the roads to be jammed with last-minute Christmas shoppers. Once we got to their house, we opened presents and sat around and talked, and watched their cat, Bandit, play with the toys we’d given him and just generally look cute. After an hour or so, when everyone was ready to fall asleep, we wished everyone a merry christmas and left. Now we have a few hours to kill before we get ready for dinner at Fred’s father’s and stepmother’s house. I suspect there’s a nap in my near future… * * * This is the chocolate-raspberry cake Fred made for dessert tonight. I’ll put the recipe up soon. This is the cross-stitch picture I made for the spud, which I FINALLY finished. I just have to get it framed and it’ll be ready for hanging on her wall. * * * Y’all who are celebrating have an awesome Christmas; those of you who aren’t, have a great day. Happy holidays, everyone – every last crazy-ass one of you. * * * “Mother. A small dish of milk, if you please?” * * *]]>

* * * IT IS FUCKING COLD OUT THERE. And y’all shut up with your “I’m in Alaska, and it’s thirty below here!” It was ten below with the windchill this morning, and my husband went running in it. His testicles crawled so far up into his body we’ll be lucky if we see them again by June. Right now it’s, like, ten degrees out and I had to go to the bank, but because it rained like hell last night and then dropped way below freezing, my doors were frozen shut. I had to take a hammer to the handle to get into the fucking car, and then I had to warm it up for ten minutes to even be able to sit in it, and THEN I had to clean the fucking puddle of antifreeze/ coolant off the driveway so that no neighborhood strays would come along and slurp it up, and die a painful death. I live in Alabama. IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS FUCKING COLD. Days like today make me seriously want to move to Florida. Fred won’t go for that, though – there are no freakin’ mountains in Florida. Thank god for space heaters and gas fireplaces on days like this.

* * * Also? It’s FLURRYING. * * * Things I have noticed about 24, Season Three: 1. At least once – but usually many, many times – in every episode, Jack tells someone “You’ve got to trust me” or “You have my word.” Jack is a word-giving motherfucker. 2. No one ever uses their mouse. “Floopy the flip flop!” Tony will order, and Kim turns to her computer and immediately begins typing. No mousing into position, or clicking from one program to the other. Do these people even have mouses mice? 3. Michelle kicks ass. I wasn’t crazy about her in Season Two, what with the moony looks at Tony, but she’s totally kicking ass in this season. After she’d done something I won’t go into so as not to spoil it for those of you who haven’t seen it, I turned to Fred and said “I guess you don’t fuck with Michelle!” 4. Chapelle has got one seriously crooked nose. We have about eight episodes left to watch. We’re going to be seriously sad when we’re done. This show is like crack – every time we finish an episode, I try to talk Fred into watching another. And sometimes it works! Hell, we stayed up ’til 9:30 the other night just to squeeze another episode in, instead of going to bed at our usual time. Gotta love that Jack Bauer. * * * Every once in a while I like to check the PicoSearch stats for my site to see what people are searching for. In particular, I like to see what people are searching for that they’re not finding. The latest list: Chickpea and Chickpeas. Probably this is a “not found” because I spell it in two workds (chick pea) rather than one. I’m not sure which is correct, though. A quick check of m-w.com says that it’s one word, not two. Who knew? Pile of money. It was a joke. I was kidding about having a pile of money, so that I could bitch about using it all to have my Jeep fixed last month. Big fat looser. I don’t know what this person was searching for – maybe my opinion about The Biggest Loser? I’ve watched every show so far, by the way, and it’s grown on me. It’s pretty amazing to see the week-by-week changes in the people on the show. Also, one “o” in Loser. “Looser” is what your pants get when you’re a big fat loser. Rolo and rolo cookies. I’m sure this is coming back with a “nothing found” because I haven’t reindexed the site since I put up the link to the recipe. If you’re looking for the Rolo cookie recipe, click on the “recipes” link over there on the right under “other”. The recipe is listed under desserts, I think. Any recipe I’ve mentioned (except that for sweet potato crack) is going to be in the recipes section. Cat Town. It’s here. * * * Speaking of cookies – like I was up there, kinda – last Friday I made the Secret Kiss cookies, only I intended to use Rolos instead of Kisses, at Fred’s request. Except when I got to the store, do you suppose they HAD Rolos? Of COURSE not. So I made a batch of cookies using miniature Snicker’s in place of the Kisses, and they were REALLY amazingly good. I’ll have to make another batch of those sometime. * * * Speaking of PicoSearch, does anyone have any recommendations for simple-to-use personal site search engines? I’m about 50 pages away from the 1500-page Free PicoSearch maximum, and after that their cheapest pay plan is $250 a year and I’m sorry, I love y’all, but I don’t love y’all THAT much. Any suggestions would be appreciated. * * * “Dat’s right, Momma, I’m laying in your seat, and you can’t do NOTHIN’ about it! Ha! Ha!” “He thinks I don’t know he’s holding that fucking toy over my head, trying to annoy me. In about ten seconds I’m going to chomp his hand right off his arm.” “You DAMN kids and your DAMN cameras! All the time flashing the fucking flash in my face! Why, in my day we din’t HAVE cameras! If we wanted to show pictures, we had to DRAW them from MEMORY, using coal from the FIRE and a piece of BARK!” * * *]]>