Author: Robyn

new logo up top, there. Someone mentioned in my comments yesterday (or maybe the day before) that the logo I had up there wasn’t very Holiday-ish. She was right, of course, and when I got an email from the adorable and talented (also funny!) Kat, letting me know that she’d designed some buttons for Bitchypoo, among other sites (you can see them in the sidebar down near the bottom under “Link me”) and wanted to know if there was anything else graphic-y I needed, I said “You know, I could use a Christmas-y logo…” and lickety-split, it was done! That’s not the final version – there’ll be a cat in the final version – but I like it so much that I wanted to put it up immediately. (Note: While I was working on this entry, I got the final version from her. Whee! It makes me want to tie a ribbon around the Bean’s tail…) The logo that Desi created will become January’s logo. Unless, of course, one of you wants to create a birthday-inspired graphic for January (in honor of it being my birth-month and all), in which case it would become February’s! Big, big thanks to the lovely (and talented! And funny!) Kat for somehow reading my mind and knowing exactly what I wanted when I didn’t even know. Also, if anyone else wants to design a Bitchypoo button for linking, go for it. I’ll stick it in the sidebar with the others. Am I bossy, or what? “Design me this! Design me that!” Oh, and I don’t know how many of you ever visit the front Bitchypoo page (I suspect the majority of you come directly to the journal page), but I put the Santa Tubby picture up there, for you crazy Tubby lovers, who’d like to go admire it.

* * * Speaking of my birthday, this morning as I was getting dressed, I thought to myself “Wow. I can’t believe I’m going to be 37 in a little over a month!” I marveled over that fact for at least five minutes before I realized that I am, in fact, NOT going to be 37. I’m going to be 36. When I was a kid and adults would have to stop and think about how old they were, I would think they were crazy. How could they NOT know?? Now I get it. * * * At our grocery store, right around Thanksgiving, they put a couple of shelf units out near the checkout lanes. On the shelves, they put brown paper bags with canned food items in them, and a receipt on the front of the bag telling you how much the items in that bag cost. The idea is that you buy a bag or two and then the food gets donated to a local food bank. Once the shelves go up, I usually buy two or three of them each time I visit the grocery store (one year Fred bought all of the bags on all of the shelves, and the grocery store employees looked at him like he was a rock star). Yesterday I decided to grab four of the bags, and as I grabbed the fourth to put it in my cart the staple holding the top of the bag closed ripped a small gash in my thumb. And I’m SURE I’m going to develop a staph infection and my thumb will blow up to the size of my head and I’ll be laying in the hospital in a staph-induced coma at Christmas time, and is THIS how you repay me, Karma gods? I try to help out a little and you give me a painful gash in my thumb that keeps rubbing on things and making me hurt? Hmph. * * * The carpet guys came yesterday to see what they could do about the Corner of Hell in the master bedroom. They’d told Fred that they could clean the carpet, but once they were in the bedroom and pulled the carpet up to see what was going on, and the fucking STENCH filled the bedroom, they gagged and said “Yeah, let’s just cut this carpet out, shall we?” So they cut up the carpet and padding and bagged it up and took it outside, and I went up to check it out. The stink about knocked me over, and I became bitter, thinking “Oh LOVELY! I get to fucking marinate in this stink all night long, and the smell will get into EVERYTHING, and I’ll be ONE OF THOSE FUCKING PEOPLE WHO WALKS AROUND SMELLING LIKE CAT PEE WITHOUT KNOWING IT!” But one of the carpet guys said to Fred “I’ll be right back. I’ll get something to beat the smell down while the subfloor is drying over the next few days.” And he went out to the van and got something and he sprayed it on the subfloor, and the smell of cat pee was INSTANTLY gone. In it’s place was the pleasant and refreshing smell of fruity berries. (Which in the future, I am sure, will forever be linked in my mind with the smell of cat pee.) So the subfloor needs to dry for a few days and then they’re going to come seal the floor with polyurethane, then it’ll dry for a few more days, and then they’re going to cut carpet out of our closet to put in that corner and replace the carpet in the closet with a similar color, and hopefully this will all become a bad dream. A girl can hope… * * * Did I ever put this picture up? I have no idea. This picture cracks me up because Spanky’s got a big drop of water on his nose. The boy can’t seem to drink water without splashing some up on his nose. I was cold last night, so we turned on the fire. That made Spot, the heat-seeking kitty, very happy. ]]>

I don’t get a vote. Hmph.

* * * So after all that hoo-ha about the spud and what she should wear to Homecoming and the insulting of my perfectly good choice, I recall that I never said anything else about it. After Fred checked with the school to see what kids wear to Homecoming these days and was told it was very casual, the spud decided to wear a denim skirt and striped shirt that she likes. When we dropped her off, guess what? About half the kids were in prom gear, 1/4 were in nice dresses, and the rest were dressed very casually. She didn’t have much fun because not many of her friends went, but we did get a picture out of the deal. Her date (“But not a DATE date!”) was more dressed-up than she. Heh. Definitely her mother’s daughter. * * * Where I’ve been today: the grocery store, the movie store, the post office, Wal-Mart, The Dollar Tree, Hallmark, and Target. I left the house at 10:00 and wasn’t home again until almost 2. My feet hurt like a motherfucker. The Dollar Tree, if you are unfortunate enough to live in a world where there is no dollar store, fucking ROCKS. I got four Christmas mugs and a picture frame for $5.40. The mugs are for gifts (but not for anyone who reads this. Heh.), and when the spud and I were looking at mugs in Wal-Mart last week, the spud kept pointing out mugs that cost seven and eight dollars apiece. My ASS. The mugs I got at The Dollar Tree are cute enough, in my opinion. I went to Target to look for pants for my niece. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the little girls’ section of the store that I wasn’t even sure I was in the right place. I picked up pants in her size and thought “That canNOT be right!” But she’s a tiny little thing and when I held the pants about where they’d be if she was standing in front of me, I decided they were right. Or so I hope. (I’ll be including the gift receipt with that present in case they don’t fit or she doesn’t like them, Kate!) * * * When I went to the mall last week, I picked up some Wallflowers refills (Wallflowers are those things you plug into the wall and they make the room smell good, for those of you who didn’t know). One of the scents was “Cinnamon Vanilla”. When I got home I plugged it in. Later that day after he took a bath (he often takes baths when he gets home from work), Fred said “What godawful thing have you sprayed or plugged in in the bathroom to attempt to make it smell good?” It appears he doesn’t care for the Cinnamon Vanilla. Luckily, he doesn’t get a vote, and every time I go into the bathroom, I like the scent more and more. Our towels hang over the Wallflower and the scent rises and makes our towels smell like Cinnamon Vanilla, too. I have no point, I guess, except that Cinnamon Vanilla smells pretty damn fine. But Fred doesn’t like it. * * * I saw a real live Princess this afternoon when I was pulling out of the Target parking lot. Driving toward me was a Pepto-Bism0l pink Mustang. Across the top of the windshield it said “Ash-o-leigh” and the front license plate was airbrushed and said “D’nt Hate.” In the car were two teenaged blond girls. One of them was talking on a cell phone. Definitely Princesses. * * * The ladybugs must be in the process of migrating or something. This afternoon Spot politely asked to go outside, and since he’s such a sweet little gentleman, I complied and opened the back door. “Please?” I left the door open for about 45 minutes, but it’s been so long since he’s been out roaming in the back yard that I think he forgot how loud it can be, with the traffic on the other side of the fence going by, and it scared him. He sniffed around the back door but never actually went outside, though Miz Poo went out and sat on the patio for a little while. When I started to get cold, I went to shut the door, and there were about 15 ladybugs crawling around on the door frame and up the wall. I shooed some of them outside but couldn’t reach them all. I figure they can just join that cluster of three ladybugs hibernating in a corner of the living room ceiling. * * * I am uncertain what The Bean is doing, exactly, but he sure looks like he’s up to no good. ]]>

logo for December – this one created by the lovely and talented Desi. Thanks, Desi!

* * * We went to see Jesus Christ, Superstar yesterday in Huntsville. It was absolutely awesome. We were in front row seats, so close we could smell the sweat rolling off Jesus while he died on the cross. Fabulous, fabulous show. And the apostles were very pretty and had amazing bodies, so that was a definite plus. Judas rocked the house and so did Mary Magdalene for that matter. I didn’t much care for Jesus at first; his voice made my ears hurt. He had the look down right – Fred said he looked like a BeeGee – but I hated his voice. I liked him a little more in the second half – “Why, because he died?” Fred said – but who goes to see Jesus Christ, Superstar for Jesus, anyway? Not me. I was there for Judas and Mary and a little bit of Simon. The show was marred toward the end after Judas sang Superstar and the fucknuts sitting directly behind us had to have a fucking discussion about what exactly was going on. Which I UNDERSTAND, because if you’ve never seen the show it might be a tad confusing to have Judas out rockin’ the house after he’s killed himself. But damn people, just because YOU don’t know what’s going on doesn’t mean no one ELSE does. Fuckers. The conversation continued while Jesus was up on the cross dying, and I wanted to turn around and scream “IT’S JESUS DYING ON THE CROSS! HOW CAN THAT POSSIBLY BE CONFUSING YOU DUMB MOTHERFUCKERS?” But I didn’t. That’s definitely my favorite show of anything we’ve seen so far. We’re going to see Les Miserables in May and I can’t WAIT. Shows I’ve never seen but want to: Grease, Joseph, Rent. The only problem with going to see a show is that for the three days following, all I can think of are the songs from the show, and it slowly drives me crazy to think “Oh I need to balance the checkbook… hmm… Every time I look at you I don’t understand – Why you let the things you did get so out of hand. You’d have managed better if you’d had a plan. Why’d you choose such a backward time in such a strange land? If you’d come today you could have reached the whole naaaaaation. Israel in 4 BC had no mass communication..*.” and the next thing you know I’m dancing the Bean across the room inviting him to join in. *Lyrics done by memory. They may or may not be correct. * * * Pet store pictures are here. The giveaway page is back! Free stuff, here. That page will be updated every Friday for at least the next few weeks. And while I’m sharing links, in honor of the holiday season, you can buy a Tubby ornament here. If anyone’s interested in buying that Tubby Santa picture on a t-shirt, let me know and I’ll switch the pictures so you can do so. Have I mentioned that Tubby Loot would make a faaaaaaaaaabulous Christmas gift? Only for those crazy Tubby lovers though, I guess. As always, the price set is base price (what Cafepress charges) plus $1, and any proceeds will go to the no-kill cat shelter for which I volunteer. You can also buy a 2004 calendar featuring the And3rson Kitties . I was putting a calendar together as a Christmas present for the spud and thought some of you out there might be interested. Disclaimer: I’ve ordered, but not received, the calendar, so I have no idea how it looks in person. Cafepress stuff is usually fairly good, though. * * * Speaking of calendars and such, I decided to put a calendar together for my parents of various pictures of their grandkids. I went through my vacation pictures from last summer in Maine, and I must say this: I sure do tend to take FIFTEEN THOUSAND FUCKING PICTURES OF THE EXACT SAME THING. Oh look, here’s Brian. And here’s Brian again in the exact same pose. And again. And again. AND YET AGAIN. It was tough coming up with 12 good pictures to use, believe you me. (And no, Debbie, Kate and Tracy – I didn’t use any pictures of y’all. I had some good pictures, but I knew I’d be quartered and drawn if I did such a thing so I didn’t. Hmph.) * * * Did I mention that I spent part of Saturday installing Windows 2000 on my computer? Fred’s hoping like hell that it will stop my computer from locking up 15 times a day. I’m not holding my breath. * * * The Bean goes on the attack, jumping on Tubby to clean behind his ears. Stanley, getting high off the (still-unplanted) lily bulbs. Miz Poo looks on disapprovingly.]]>

Sweet Potato Casserole, and that’s no lie. I used chopped walnuts instead of pecans this time, and it was damn yummy.

* * * So we went to Fred’s sister’s house for Thanksgiving, bringing sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, rolls, and a lemon pound cake. Fred’s mother and stepfather were there, and so was his sister’s boyfriend. I’d been a little worried about meeting her boyfriend, because he’s French, and when someone has a thick accent – as I’ve mentioned before – and I can’t understand what they’re saying, I always feel like a complete stupid American idiot. But I was able to understand him – the funny thing with listening to people with accents is that the more you listen to them, the easier it is to understand – and he was very nice. We were supposed to eat at noon, but ended up eating at one, right about the time I was ready to gnaw off my arm since I hadn’t eaten breakfast. On the table: turkey, smoked ham, rolls, devilled eggs, sweet potato casserole, green bean casserole, giblet gravy, oyster dressing, cornbread dressing, and cranberry sauce. For dessert, pumpkin pie and Fred’s awesome lemon pound cake. After we finished eating and Fred was in the kitchen washing all the dishes by hand*, Fred’s nephew and niece and her boyfriend showed up. After a bit of chatting, as I was eyeing the clock and wondering how soon we could go home and take a nap, Fred pointed out that we’d brought the game Trivial Pursuit with us. “Let’s play a game!” he suggested, and I could have smacked him. But I agreed to play, and we set up at the kitchen table. Instead of pairing off in teams as would be the normal thing to do, all 5 of us each got our own game piece, and we spend the next two hours playing the game. I did my best to not fall asleep, and then Fred suggested that the three of them (his nephew, niece and her boyfriend) make up one team and he and I would make up the other. We played until they had all their pieces, and then finally Fred and I gave up the game, declared them the winners, and ran for the front door with our leftovers. Did I mention that Fred’s stepfather brought oyster dressing? The best oyster dressing in the whole wide world? And also a smoked ham that was so moist and tender I wanted to marry it? He’s from Louisiana and makes super-southern cajun food that makes you cry it’s so damn good. Lordy but I love Thanksgiving. * While Fred was showing off his mad cleaning skillz in the kitchen, his sister looked at me and said “Is he like this at home?” “No,” I said, remembering the many times I’d had to yell at he and the spud to put their dishes in the dishwasher when they were done eating breakfast or lunch. Fred’s sister nodded. “That’s what I figured.” * * * This morning the spud and I were on the road at 7:30, on our way to the Examiner’s Office so that she could take the written test for her learner’s permit. The traffic around Madison Square Mall was horrid – at not even 8:00, there were people who had to park on the GRASS – but once we got past the mall the traffic was pretty light. We got to the Examiner’s Office two minutes before 8:00, and guess what? That’s right, the fucking place was closed in observance of Thanksgiving. A STATE office and it was closed! Bastards. So I told the spud we’d try again when she got off for Christmas vacation and we went out to breakfast at IHOP. IHOP was packed, but we only had to wait about 10 minutes to be seated. I got my pancake jones satisfied (it only comes up about once a year) and then we had to run to Fred’s office (Fred took today off) because his computer shit the bed (Hi Shannon!) and he needed a Windows 2000 disk. We fought our way back through the mall traffic and the bastards trying to get into the left lane to turn into Best Buy, picked up the disk, fought our way AGAIN through the mall/ Best Buy traffic, and made it home about two hours after we’d left. May I just take a second to note that y’all who go shopping the day after Thanksgiving are some CRAZY MOTHERFUCKERS indeed. * * * So I was going through the video tape the other day to see what I had in the way of cat movies that I could put up to entertain y’all. I came across the part of the tape where Fred and I were out in the back yard with the Bean on a leash. I had just started taping when the Bean did his big, goofy leaping-run across the yard. I didn’t catch it on tape, though, because the camera was set on super-zoom, and I was trying to figure out what was going on. After the Bean did his big running-leap, you can clearly hear me say “Oh SHIIIIIT, I didn’t get it!” So I made a wav, for your listening pleasure. Mock away. Do I sound heartbroken, or what? Maybe one of these days I’ll make a wav of myself REALLY swearing. Heh. * * * Friday Five! 1. Do you like to shop? Why or why not? I like the act of shopping, but I loathe the annoying motherfuckers who get in my way when I’m shopping. 2. What was the last thing you purchased? A gift card to Applebee’s for my parents for Christmas. Before that, some Matrix hair crap that is VERY GODDAMN EXPENSIVE JANE. Am I still dead to you? Oh no, wait. I bought an eye makeup kit this morning at the grocery store for $2.99, because I only have dark gray eyeshadow, and I’d like to experiment with eyeshadow on one of the three days a year I wear makeup. 3. Do you prefer shopping online or at an actual store? Why? Online, online, online. Always online. Because I don’t have to get up off my ass to do it, and there are no annoying people standing in my way and blocking the aisle. (Though sometimes there are annoying people sitting across the room singing showtunes) 4. Did you get an allowance as a child? How much was it? I did, but I can’t for the life of me remember how much. I think it depended on my age. The spud gets $10 a week, and I know it wasn’t anything near that much. 5. What was the last thing you regret purchasing? Some Dansko clogs, because they hurt the top of my feet. I need to exchange them for a different pair. * * * Spot would like all you Tubby-lovers to bite him.]]>

knew it, the way I know the sky is blue and Winter follows Fall. So many years of our lives were intertwined, and it seems that in every memory I have, for so many years, you were there. Years ago at the beach in the middle of summer, laying on the blanket, watching the kids play in the surf. I laid my cheek against you; you were cool and you soothed me. You were always what I needed. I thought you always would be. When it became clear to us that it was ending, that it had to end because we had no choice, I thought my heart would break. No. My heart did break. It shattered. I wondered how I would go on without you there beside me. I couldn’t stand it, to know that you were in the world and I could never again be with you. To know that you might go on to make another as happy as you spent so many years making me; I thought I would go crazy. I would lay awake at night crying, wondering where you were and what you were doing and with whom. It’s been so long now since I’ve felt you against my lips. It feels like yesterday sometimes, and at other times it feels like forever. I don’t know how this happened, but somehow I moved on. One day I woke up and told myself that I was not going to pine away for you forever. That it was time to pick up my life and put the pieces back together. And I did. I met someone else, and at first all I thought was “This is not my Beloved.” I knew that it could never work out – how could a relationship be formed when I still spent so much time with my mind on you? One tentative try became two. Two became four. For a long, long time I doubted this relationship, because I thought that it was only a fling to get me over you. But the oddest thing began happening. I began to go for a time without thinking of you, without feeling that pang in my heart, without thinking of you, out there in this world without me. At first it was only a short time – minutes. Over time, minutes became hours and days and then months. And I am in love. I have a True Love. A True Love who is not you. My True Love and I fit together in ways that you and I somehow never could. You and I simply were not right for each other, despite the times we tried and tried and tried again. There was a time I thought we’d always be together, but I was wrong. For a long time, the thought of you made me cry because you were in this world and I could not have you. And then the thought of you made me sad. Now? Now the thought of you makes me smile. We had so many wonderful times together, and I hope your memories of those times make you smile too, those times before the games began, before I tried to change you. What I thought was true love with you, I now realize was only a pale imitation. I hope with all my heart that you now have someone who loves you as much as I love my True Love. And I hope that when you think of me, it’s with a smile. On this day of giving thanks, what I am thankful for is that you were in my life. I am thankful that we were able to finally let each other go, and that my heart, which I thought would never heal, now loves more strongly than ever before. I am thankful for you, for all the time we had together. And I am thankful for my True Love and the future we have together. With love, Robyn November 27, 2000.]]>

SURVIVOR SPOILER OH MY GOD WHAT A FLAMING FUCKING ASSHOLE. I AM WITHOUT WORDS. I HATE JON AND HOPE HE DIES A PAINFUL DEATH BEFORE THE HOUR IS OVER. THAT IS ALL.]]>

PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: SURVIVOR IS ON TONIGHT, NOT TOMORROW NIGHT AND IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S GOING TO BE REALLY REALLY GOOD.

* * * So what with all the venting I’ve been doing about the fact that the fucking stores have had Christmas displays up since the day after Valentine’s Day and the radio stations are playing Christmas songs and FUCK THAT, I haven’t mentioned the fact that I’ve gotten about half my Christmas shopping done. Of course, half of THAT was gift cards I ordered online, but that’s not important. Yesterday marked one month until Christmas day, and I have about half my Christmas shopping done. This is a banner year indeed, folks – this NEVER happens. And later today? I’m going to the mall with the spud. On the day before Thanksgiving. To do some more Christmas shopping and to pick up some Christmas cards, for which I will begin taking names and addresses on Friday. Somebody stop me! So when I asked my sister what she wanted for Christmas, she told me and when I said “Like this one?” and provided a link, she said “Actually I hate that. I prefer one like this.” and provided a link. So I went to Spiegel.com and placed an order, and one of the things I ordered was a mini chopper, this one to be exact. The order arrived yesterday and instead of receiving a mini chopper, I received a hideous valance. Now, can one chop with a valance? I think NOT. So I immediately returned the valance along with a strongly worded letter indicating that since this was their screw-up, I expect to receive the correct item via express mail, tout de suite. And I didn’t use the word “motherfuckers” even once! * * * Okay, it’s the afternoon now, and I’m back from the petstore, Target, and mall. We were only gone about two hours and I got a couple more people taken care of. Dare I say Christmas is going to be less of a pain in the ass than usual this year? THAT’S the Christmas spirit. It continues to completely amaze me how oblivious people are to the world around them. If they’re walking down the aisle at the Hallmark store and see something that interests them, well hell! They stop, blocking as much of the fucking aisle as humanly possible, and they stare at said fascinating item with their mouth hanging open, neither knowing nor caring that someone might try to get around their GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING ASS. I love people, oh yes I do. * * * Speaking of bastardly people, I admit that it horrifies me that as of this very moment TubbyThatBastard has received 141 votes as being your favorite. The Bean is far, far behind him with 83 votes, and Miz Poo has a paltry 70. MORE PEOPLE CLICKED ON THE “NONE OF THE ABOVE, I JUST WANTED TO VOTE” BUTTON THAN VOTED FOR SPOT. Poor Spot. Anyway, in honor of you Tubby-loving bastards, I’ve put up a new movie of the week. Click on the link over there to the right. I won’t tell you what it’s about, but this should give you a hint: Bastard. I should just have a raffle and send his Tubby ass to the winner. Or the highest bidder. Or the person who promises to beat him on a daily basis. One or the other. * * * “Only 14 people love me. MR FANCYPANTS DOESN’T EVEN LIVE HERE ANYMORE AND HE GOT MORE VOTES THAN ME GODDAMNIT. But I’m not bitter. At least I got more votes than Spot.” A year ago: If you think you can have too many smiley-face stickers, you are sadly mistaken. Two: The phrase “anthrax in my pants” is FUCKING FUNNY when it’s spoken by a sixty-three year old woman. Four: Kitten update]]>

Friday Five on Tuesday: 1. List five things you’d like to accomplish by the end of the year. Have the entire house clean for one brief, shining moment. Get all my bulbs planted. Get caught up on my magazine reading. Get company files all straightened out. Get a new cell phone (the old one’s crapping out). 2. List five people you’ve lost contact with that you’d like to hear from again. All friends from high school: Tammie Bonenfant, Butch Collins, Carolyn (whose last name name escapes me), Richard (Rick) White, Richard (Rick) Carr. I’d love to know where they are these days and what’s happened in their lives. 3. List five things you’d like to learn how to do. After seeing Rachael’s cool tatted bookmarks, I’d love to learn to tat. Also, crocheting and knitting. That’s all that comes to mind at the moment. 4. List five things you’d do if you won the lottery (no limit). Anonymously send money orders for huge amounts to a bunch of online friends. Buy a cottage on the coast of Maine. Buy a big-ass house for my sister – hell, I’d buy big-ass houses for everyone in my family. Donate a huge amount of money to the local no-kill cat shelter I volunteer for. Hire someone to cook and clean. Whoo! 5. List five things you do that help you relax. Read. Take a long, hot bath. Watch When Harry Met Sally. Sit on the couch and channel-surf. Web (journal) surf.

* * * Come on, y’all. Allison only has another $20 to raise to reach her fundraising goal for the Jingle Bell Run/ Walk. Won’t you help a sista out? * * * Yesterday Nance and I were chatting on MSN Messeng3r, and we began talking about the fact that each of our cats seems to have his or her own little fan club. I’ll go for a while thinking y’all prefer one of them and then get a slew of emails asking me to put up pictures of another. So I think it’s time for a poll!

And3rson Kitties

Who’s your favorite And3rson kitty? Spot Spanky TubbyThatBastard Miz Poo Stan the Bean Mr. Fancypants I love them all! I hate them all! None of the above. I just want to vote. Current Results

Fred said we should get rid of the cat who gets the least amount of votes, but of course we won’t. (Unless it’s TubbyThatBastard) * * * I think our kitchen is cursed. Saturday morning, the Bean jumped from the table to the countertop next to the sink. Since the countertop was freshly clean, it was a tad slippery, and so the Bean slid a few feet, knocking a glass jar of all-natural peanut butter onto the floor, where it shattered and went absolutely everywhere. When I left to take Liz to the airport Sunday, I hugged Fred and as I did so, I saw a big splatter of peanut butter on one of the cupboard doors, about two feet above his head. Sunday afternoon as I was trying to get some Udo’s Choice capsules out of the bottle, it slipped out of my hand and shattered on the floor, sending shards of brown glass and oil-filled capsules all over the place. Monday afternoon I handed a plate and bowl to the spud and asked her to put them in the sink. Ten seconds later, I heard the sound of shattering dishes, and walked into the library to see that both the plate and bowl had been dropped. I asked the spud to hand me the broom out of the closet, and to put Stanley The Nosy Bean in the bathroom so that he wouldn’t cut himself or try to eat a shard of broken dish. I began sweeping up the pieces, and the spud attempted to help by KICKING the larger pieces toward me until I smacked her upside the head and told her to stop. Except for the smacking part, which was only wishful thinking. I can hardly wait to see what gets broken TODAY. * * * The station I usually listen to, STAR 99.1, has been playing fucking CHRISTMAS SONGS since at least last Friday. Why, people, why? Why can they not wait until the DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING? I’m boycotting the station until after Thursday, but I sure do miss my easy listening favorites. * * * We were watching Yes, Dear last night (shaddup). We really like that show and all of the actors on the show, especially Anthony Clark, who plays Greg. At least once during every show, he does something (such as scream and run around like a little girl) that is very Fred-like. Imagine our surprise when the show came back from commercials last night and Greg appeared on the screen. Apparently Greg shops at Kohl’s, too. * * * Miz Poo considers whether to go kick the Bean’s ass, or continue grooming herself (she settled the dilemma by finishing her grooming job and THEN going to kick his ass). A year ago: But I had not the inclination to re-do the floors, so I left them streaky, camera crew and national show be damned. Four: So, I got a kitten. (Miz Poo!) (Comments closed due to spammers)]]>

rurrrr, rurrrr, rurrrr.” “Oh,” I said. “The growling sound they make when they play fight?” “No,” she said. “The sound they make when they’re just laying there.” “Purring? You don’t like the sound of them purring?” “Yeah.” Freak. Stanley was so bothered by the fact that we kept the guest bedroom door shut at all times that every time the door would open, he’d haul ass in there and hide under the bed. One morning, Liz didn’t want to have to hunt him down, so she left the door open while she showered. The next morning, she discovered that some of her clothes had been peed upon. It appears that TubbyThatBastard found an opportunity to sneak in there and show his displeasure, and he seized said opportunity. I was fucking MORTIFIED. I mean to have him PEE on the clothes of a houseguest, well, I wanted to kill that little fucker. ARGH. At least Liz thought it was funny, or pretended to.

* * * Pet store kitty pics are here. * * * Yesterday it was sunny and close to 80. This morning, it’s rainy and 35. I was wanting it to cool off a LITTLE, but not THIS much. Brrrr. I’m glad I made Fred get the fireplace pilot lit, so that all I have to do is go into the living room and flip the switch to get the heat going. I am in the midst of a raging case of PMS. Strangely, knowing that my mood (which makes me want to write very very bad poetry (“my world is gray and i am blue and the cat, she purrs. give me chocolate.”) and throw myself down on the bed and throw a temper tantrum) is due to PMS doesn’t make it go away. I know I’ll be over it in a day or two, but it sure is hellish while it’s here, goddamnit. And the cold fucking weather doesn’t help at ALL. ARGH. * * * So those lily bulbs I was supposed to plant back at the beginning of the month? Still not planted. Still in the box they arrived in. Which is located next to the boxes of daffodil bulbs. But that’s not the point. The point is that when the lily bulbs arrived, I took the box and set it on the desk next to the garage door. Later that evening Stanley began sniffing around the box, and I swear to y’all, it was as if he was sniffing around a big box of catnip. He immediately started acting high as a kite, and it was funny as hell. (NOTE: I AM AWARE THAT LILY BULBS ARE POISONOUS TO CATS. THE BOX IS A SEALED BOX AND THE BEAN COULD NOT GET TO THE ACTUAL BULBS TO EAT THEM AND THUS POISON HIMSELF.) I finally put the box of bulbs out in the garage so that Stanley would stop reeling around like he was on the tail-end of a three-day drunk, and thought no more about it. Except that this morning when I opened the door between the garage and the house, Stanley ran like hell out into the garage as he usually does. Instead of trying to chase him down, I just left the door open so he could come back inside whenever he wanted. Ten minutes later I went out to get something out of the big freezer, and what did I see? That’s right, Stanley lolling about on the garage floor next to the box of lily bulbs, his eyes madly twirling. So anyway, my question is thusly: have you ever heard of a cat getting high off lily bulbs? Just curious whether this is a wide-spread phenomenon or a Stanley-only kinda thing. * * * I’ll be taking the spud to get her learner’s permit this Friday. You can imagine how very much I’m looking forward to this. * * * Da Bean. A year ago: Ah, pms. Ain’t life grand. Two: Huh. I didn’t get online until after 12:30 (central time!) today, and the world didn’t stop and mourn me or anything. I don’t know if I like that. Three: Robyn’s Theory of Feet Four: If you look closely at the picture, you’ll note that it’s very close to the color of bile.]]>

* * * So we didn’t go to Nashville Thursday because Liz was still jet-lagged, so we hung around the house, watched some crappy movies, went out to lunch, came home, and watched more movies. It was fun, actually, just hanging out. Yesterday morning we did go to Nashville, and you KNOW I took a ton of pictures for your perusal. Because I love you! First we went to the Nashville Zoo. There were, oddly, not as many animals as we’d expected, but it was pretty cool anyway. The Bamboo Path. This was cool, because the bamboo was probably 20 feet high. White bengal tiger. Here, kittykittykitty! These two were grooming each other. It was so cool I wanted to climb over the barrier and pet them. Eagle. Ring-tailed lemurs. SO cool! Some kind of big lizards. If you look closely, you can see that the one on top has a small lizard hanging out on it’s tail. LOVE the Meerkats! “Did I hear something?” Otters. After the zoo, we went to the Tennessee Titans’ stadium, where we drove around… Until we saw the Pro Shop, where we stopped and went inside. The lady working at the Pro Shop let us into the stadium so we could see the field. It was cool – Liz was pretty excited about it. And then we had lunch at the Hard Rock and walked up Broadway, looking in various stores, before leaving to drive home. At 4:15. On a Friday afternoon. Yeah, it was pretty hellish, trying to get out of Nashville. A year ago: Fuck him, too. Two: the skinny teenage cashier got a real workout hauling that 30-pound box of litter across the scanner, believe you me Three: I see enough nasty stuff in my life. I don’t need to see it on MTV. Four: People, if I were a cartoon, I would have had a huge question mark drawn over my head at that moment.]]>