Author: Robyn

* * * I taped Boomtown Sunday night, and watched it yesterday during the day while I worked on a cross-stitch for Fred. I’ve been telling Fred for ages that I would cross-stitch this for him to frame and hang in his office. It took me only a few hours to do (because I messed up a few letters and had to yank them out and redo them), so I don’t know why I put it off for so long. Now all I have to do is get a frame. And yes, I know that the bottom isn’t centered completely, but it’s close enough for government work. I liked it so much (the show, not the cross-stitch – though I like the way that came out, too) that I made Fred watch it with me last night. He liked it, but also doesn’t care whether he sees another episode of the show, the bastard. I, on the other hand, will be making it one of my regular shows. We went through our movies over the weekend, and came up with a bunch to get rid of (which is not surprising to y’all, since Fred’s selling a bunch on eBay), and there were several that I’ve had for a while, but never got around to watching. I had Fred put them in a separate pile so I could watch them and decide whether to keep them or not. One of them was The Amy Fisher Story, starring Drew Barrymore. I don’t remember buying that movie, but I’m sure I bought it because it was very very cheap (less than $5), and also because I kinda like Drew Barrymore. Sunday morning, I sat down and watched it. MAN did it suck. Very bad, stiff acting. I watched ’til the end, god knows why. It’s not like I didn’t know how it ended! * * * ]]>

When I got up at 3:07 to pee, I was almost knocked over by the stampede of cats accompanying me into the bathroom. When I didn’t feed them and, instead, sat to pee, they milled around in confusion, sniffing at the spot where the food bowl usually sits and sniffing each other, then hissing and flouncing off to pout. The funny thing is that our skinniest cat – Spot – is also the one who is most worried when food isn’t readily available. It’s not that he wants to eat all the time, it’s that he wants to be able to eat all the time, if he so desires. When I went into the bathroom this morning, I was blinded by the sight of Tubby’s ass sticking up out of the toilet bowl as he desperately slurped up water. Standing in line for their turns at the watering hole were Spanky and Spot. This made me break into song, including the Antonio-inspired accent: At the watering holes of the well-to-do I detect a re-zis-tahnce to (precisely!) our heroine’s staaaaahle… The kitties did not care for the tune, the unappreciative bastards. Anyway, once Fred had Miz Poo boxed up, I put the food and water back where it belonged (Spot all but did a swan dive into the bowl), got dressed, and took Miz Poo to the vet. On a side note, I swear that when I’m a trazillionaire, I’m going to hire someone to come pick up the cats and take them to the vet when need be, because the sad little meows they let out in the car on the way always breaks my heart. After signing a paper stating that I was turning down pre-anethesia testing and microchipping (because I knew that Fred would give me hell if I agreed to it – and if Miz Poo dies because she didn’t have the pre-anesthesia testing, I’ll be blaming Fred, you better believe it), I petted Miz Poo through the holes of the box and went on my way. Later, I was on the phone with Fred, when his cellphone rang. “Oh, it’s the vet!” he said, checking the caller id. I waited while he answered the phone. After a minute, I heard him say “Can you hold?”, and he said to me “I’m going to call you back. Love you. Bye!” And he hung up. You can imagine what went through my mind while I waited forEVER for Fred to call back. Miz Poo was maimed. Miz Poo had died because I hadn’t opted for the pre-surgery screening. Miz Poo had run away. I don’t mind telling you that I was pretty damn scared. Y’all KNOW how much I love that cat. Finally, Fred called back to tell me that the vet had had questions about Miz Poo’s wheezing. For a year or so, ever since Miz Poo had her eyelid cauterized so that her weird, wiry hair wouldn’t grow inside her eyelid and scratch her eye, she’s had a wheeze. The vet (not the one we have now, but the previous one) said that it would eventually go away. It hasn’t, but it also hasn’t bothered her all that much, either. She wheezes for a little while, then coughs and the wheezing is gone. She does tend to do it more when she’s upset, which explains why she was doing it at the vet’s office. Fred was impressed because that’s the first time an actual vet has called in person to ask a question. The house seems empty without Miz Poo shoving her portly butt between me and the keyboard, laying under the desk across my feet, or howling to be picked up and loved on. Every time I go upstairs, Spot runs into the bathroom to make sure I haven’t taken the food away. ]]>

here, I anagrammed “My Fat Ass” and came up with “Fay Masts”, which is the name I’m going to use if I ever have to travel incognito. Like I’d ever really have to travel incognito. * * * I’ve seen this several times before, but it always manages to get me teary-eyed. Thanks to reader Sandy for the link. * * * Fred’s day to feed and poop-scoop at the pet store is Monday mornings, and more often than not, I go along to help him. (The fact that I get out of bed an hour and a half earlier than usual should tell you how much I love these cats!) I help out mostly by filling the food and water bowls, snuggling with the kitties and trying to stay out of the way. Thus far, there’s always been an empty cage, which is where we put the cats while we clean and straighten their cages, but today was a full house, with a few new cats. One of them, in a cage with a couple of other kittens, was an absolute dead ringer for Fancypants. It was stunning, this kitten looked EXACTLY like Fancypants, from the fluffy, swishy tail to the green eyes. I brought the camera with me, but Fred has claimed the pictures for an entry of his own. When that’s up, I’ll link to it. I’m a little surprised that they’ve got black cats – three of them that I can think of – up for adoption so close to Halloween. I’ve always heard that shelters won’t adopt out black cats during the second half of October. I’d hate to see anything happen to my little snugglepuss, Austin. Man, what an adorable little kitten he is. * * * We went to Fred’s mother and stepfather’s house on Saturday. They’ve sold their house and are buying a house near us (they’re not buying the house because it’s near us, but because of the general location. I think.), and since they’re moving into a smaller house, they need to get rid of some stuff. They offered us a secretary that (I think) belonged to Fred’s grandmother, and also a table that Fred’s grandfather built. We took the table with us on Saturday and put it in the guest bedroom. It’s a pretty nice table, and we had talked about putting it by the front door, but Tubby likes to lay on the table that’s already there, and this table is a tad rickety, so we put it where Tubby couldn’t get to it. We’re going to go back and get the secretary some other time – though soon, I guess, because they’re closing on the house November 15th. While we were there, I think Fred’s mother offered us about everything in the house. They gave us some skewers, which rocked, because we’d been talking about buying some so we could grill shrimp. Fred’s mother offered us a chair that belonged to his grandmother, and I was tempted to take it, because we’re selling the wardrobe in the corner of the computer room, and I’d like to have a chair there where I could sit and read. The thing that I dislike about the downstairs of our house is that if you want to sit and read, you have to sit in the living room because there’s nowhere else to sit. And if someone wants to watch the television in there, it can get a tad distracting. I’d like to have a chair in the computer room to retreat to when need be. In the end, we didn’t take Fred’s grandmother’s chair, because the fabric is cream-colored, and I’m afraid that the cats would mess it up pretty quickly. But don’t think I wasn’t tempted! * * * Speaking of cats, I glanced at the cat door earlier to see a mostly black cat with splotches of white sniffing around the cat door. I had to stare for a moment to be sure he wasn’t one of ours, and when I’d determined that he wasn’t, I walked over to scare him away. I’m thinking that one of the things I don’t need is a strange cat running around the house while I’m off running errands. As I walked toward him, he looked curiously up at me, in a friendly matter. “Go on, kitty. You don’t live here!” I said. As if he was going to say to himself “By god, she’s RIGHT! I do not, in fact, reside here. What on earth was I thinking?” and run off. He did not. Finally, I bent down and smacked at the plastic flap of the cat door. He ran a short distance away and then turned to see what I was going to do next. Fred (I’d been talking to him on the phone when I spotted the cat) suggested I use the can of air to scare him off. The can of air always works when one of our kitties gets out of line or we need to break up a fight. I stepped outside and shot the can of air in his direction. He ran to the fence, and climbed to the top, then sat there and stared at me. “Kitty, go! Go!” I said, spraying more air at him. Finally, when I took a couple of steps toward him, he took off. Cats just seem to be drawn to our house. * * * I bought some fake flowers when I was at Michael’s earlier. Aren’t they adorable? I don’t know how long they’ll last in this house, because we’re on a getting-rid-of-stuff spree, but for now just seeing them makes me smile. Whether Fred thinks fake flowers are cheesy or not. So there. * * * Look kind of guilty, don’t they?]]>

Miz Poo’s Elvis lip isn’t getting noticeably better, so Fred will be carting her back to the vet in the next few days. Poor, deformed Miz Poo. * * * Remember my butterfly bush, the one that looked like this back in August? Well, we planted it in the ground, and it doubled in size and finally started blooming: And it smells SO good. I love my butterfly bush, yes I do. * * * When I bought those new bird feeders a few weeks ago, after I put them together, I took them outside to fill with bird seed in hopes that birds would start flocking to our yard again. Because I’m a klutz, as I filled the feeders, I dumped about 1/3 of the bag of seed on the ground. And because I’m lazy, I just left it there. And it grew. The seed is mostly sunflower seed, and I’m trying to get Fred to leave it alone (instead of mowing it down) to see what happens. It’s probably too late in the season to try to grow sunflowers, but it would be interesting to watch. And while I’m talking about letting things grow, this thing popped up in our front flower bed: and Fred has decreed that he’s going to let it grow and see what it turns into. Heh. I seem to have a hard time focusing on roses, but I love the colors in this one, so I’m putting it up here, blurry or not. * * * Yesterday after feeding the cats at the petstore, I went to Fred’s office to check out the big-ass spider outside the office suite (sorry, I didn’t bring the camera with me), and on my way home I stopped at Target to see if the sushi was out yet, and also to see if they had any decent-smelling bath stuff. I’m all about the stinky bath stuff, if you hadn’t guessed. I found a section of Sarah Michaels stuff and glanced through it halfheartedly. Until I saw the Milk & Honey flavor. I picked up a bottle of shower scrub, sniffed it, and immediately fell in love. I debated whether to get some of the moisturizer, decided I’d never use it, and opted for the tube of shower lotion to go along with the bottle of shower scrub. I put both of them in my basket, wandered around the store a bit more, put a $5 shirt in my basket, found that the sushi chef wasn’t making sushi yet, and then checked out. I was very excited to get home and try out my new shower lotion, believe you me. I got home, checked my email, grabbed my bag and headed upstairs. Imagine my thrill when I found that there was nothing in the bag but the shirt. I’d managed to waltz off without my lovely-smelling Honey & Milk bath stuff! Grr! I thought about immediately driving back to Target, but decided that I didn’t want to. It’s not a terribly long drive, but it is a boring drive, and I needed to take a shower and get the stink of dirty litter out of my hair. I took a shower, read for a little while, and then headed back to Target. When I approached the cashier who’d checked me out, she directed me to customer service, who handed me the bag with my bath stuff in it. I checked out the sushi, bought a Full Moon combo, and then went home. Fast forward to last night, when I thought I would take a shower with my lovely-smelling bath stuff, so that when I went to bed Fred would smell my lovely-smelling self, and be overwhelmed with desire (in other words, the usual). It wasn’t until I looked in the Target bag that I realized I’d bought the body lotion instead of the shower lotion. Know what that means? Yep, yet another trip to Target. They’re going to have to name a parking space after me pretty soon. * * * Friday Five. 1. How many TVs do you have in your home? 5 – one in the living room, one in the garage, one in the computer room, one in the spud’s room, and one in the master bedroom. The one in the computer room only ever gets used to tape stuff, though. And the one in the garage is only used to do exercise tapes. 2. On average, how much TV do you watch in a week? Way too much. Most days this week, I’ve watched Dr. Phil, Oprah, Felicity, whatever’s on from 7 to 9 pm, and another hour so after Fred goes to bed. That adds up to about 40 hours or so. Gah! 3. Do you feel that television is bad for young children? Not unless you plop your kid down in front of the TV with the remote and let them watch whatever they want, whenever they want. Unlimited television is bad for young children, I guess I’d say. 4. What TV shows do you absolutely HAVE to watch, and if you miss them, you’re heartbroken? Survivor and Friends are the only must-see TV at the moment. Being a dumbass, I mis-set the vcr yesterday, and didn’t tape Friends or Scrubs. I’m not too heartbroken, though, because I know I’ll get a chance to see both shows in reruns. 5. If you had the power to create your own television network, what would your line-up look like? Probably a combination of the WE, Oxygen, and Lifetime line-ups. With lots of America’s Funniest Home Videos thrown in for good measure.]]>

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Q is for Quarry. After I do the Friday Five, that is. Friday Five. 1. If you could only choose 1 cd to ever listen to again, what would it be? Les Miserables. Hey, it’s three disks, but one album, so don’t look at me like that! 2. If you could only choose 2 movies to watch ever again, what would they be? When Harry Met Sally, and Les Miserables – the Dream Cast in Concert. What can I say? We listened to Les Miz all the damn way to Gatlinburg, and I still love it. Master of the house/ isn’t worth a spit/ comforter, philosopher, and lifelong shit! is still rolling through my brain at odd times. 3. If you could only choose 3 books to read ever again, what would they be? The Stand, Good in Bed, and a random volume of the encyclopedia. 4. If you could only choose 4 things to eat or drink ever again, what would they be? Since I’m only eating and/or drinking the same 4 things, I’m apparently not concerned with my health, so I’d say Coke (the regular, not the diet), lobster, steak, and white cake from Peggy Ann’s Bakery (in Huntsville). 5. If you could only choose 5 people to ever be/talk/associate/whatever with ever again, who would they be? Ih. Let’s say: Fred, the spud, Debbie, Liz, and Miz Poo. What? Are you trying to tell me that Miz Poo isn’t a people? ‘Cause she seems to THINK she is!]]>

I could not get that Tubby bastard to swallow his freakin’ pill. I’m hopeless when it comes to medicating a cat, in case you were wondering. * * * So, we did indeed have a great time in Gatlinburg. We didn’t stay in our usual hotel, because by the time we’d decided we were going to G’burg, that hotel was all full up. We stayed, instead, in a hotel on the other end of town, and it was VERY nice, despite the stinky smell of the rooms. If we stay there again, I am for sure taking candles or air freshener with me. I didn’t get any pictures of the room, but believe me when I say it was nice. There was a huge shower, a whirlpool tub (Fred and I took turns making use of the tub, believe me), and what impressed the spud the most was the phone in the bathroom next to the toilet. Plus, there was the continental breakfast every morning! Sure, it was just buttered white toast, orange juice, and hot cocoa, but I do love me some buttered white toast. Goes with that whole white trash thing, I guess. I’d rather stay in a hotel closer to the middle of the strip next time, because it’s our habit to not head back to the hotel until our feet are about to fall off, which only makes the walk seem that much longer. Friday morning I woke up with my hamstrings screaming, Saturday morning my quads hurt, and Sunday morning I had some serious hip pain. I think what made me hurt isn’t the fact that we were walking. It was the fact that we walked for FOUR hours at a time, with lots of standing around looking, and very little sitting. But pain builds character, right? That, or it turns you into a psycho, one or the other. Sleeping in the same bed went a little better this time around, though I didn’t sleep as well as Fred did on Friday and Saturday nights. If you’ll be travelling to Gatlinburg in the next month and a half, I apologize for the fact that there’s not a drop of fudge or pecan turtles in the entire town. I ate them all, and DAMN they were fine. And as always, it was nice to get home. Miz Poo has been clingy ever since we got back, sleeping pressed up against me, laying between me and the keyboard most of the time, and just generally being an annoyance. Which is what I love about her, of course. We bought a cat toy at the Smoky Mountain Cat House in Pigeon Forge, a fur mouse on a stretchy string, that you hang from the doorway. We put it in the doorway between the computer room and the library, and while Miz Poo is slightly interested in watching it boing back and forth, she won’t chase it and smack it herself. Spot played with it for a little while, but the best part was when Fred tried to get Tubby to play with it. It appears that our fearless Tubby is afraid of the furry little mouse on a string. Heh. * * * Of the 60ish pictures we took in Gatlinburg, none of them were of the three of us. I kept meaning to utilize the timer feature, but never got around to it. But on our last full day there, the spud and I stopped and had our picture taken at a good old-fashioned picture booth. Our vacation pictures will be up in a few days (says she who still hasn’t put the Maine vacation pictures up!). I’ll link to ’em when they’re up.]]>

Gatlinburg (an entry in haiku form) Time goes by slowly, hours and hours upon the road. Are we there yet, Fred? Fred plays Les Miz, and claps like a great big doofus. My ears now gush blood. Sing now, tone-deaf fool! Three whole compact discs of this? Jean Valjean you ain’t. Stopping in Georgia important part of the trip. Fred and his scratch-offs. Tony Robbins tapes – blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. Please god, take me now. Big slow fucking truck, why you drive in the left lane? Make Fred have a stroke. Oh, my Gatlinburg. Hours and hours away from home. I wish to eat fudge. In the back seat, she pouts attitudinously. Don’t make me hurt you. First time yellow shirt Honey-mustard dribbles down Boobs covered with blotch of sauce. Pecan turtles, and rocky road fudge. My ass grows larger with every bite. Like Baryshnikov, Fred dances around the room. Go to bed, damnit. People all around. Dead stop, middle of sidewalk. Move your fucking ass. Rain, rain, go away come again some other day. Goddamn fucking rain. At almost midnight, screaming people on the street won’t shut the fuck up. When I awaken, my quads scream with ev’ry move. Gatlinburg Death March. Hotel room so big roomy, spacious, perfect. Butt is what it smells like. Rain, rain, yet again Gatlinburg all dark and gray It’s time to go home. Miz Poo chirps at me and then she purrs happily, glad to have us home. Fred was a great help in writing some of these haikus.]]>

Bitchypoo – the best of.]]>

Slander, which I’m currently trying to read. I’m having a hard time getting into it, because Ann Coulter’s arguments strike me as really pretty disingenuous. And I made sure to use the word “disingenuous”, because Fred has come to loathe that word, ever since Ghandia used it 45,000 times in last week’s Survivor. Fred looked at me and said “Maybe you should put Ann Coulter back on the bookcase and try the Sean Hannity book. Ann Coulter can be kind of mean-spirited.” Well, duh. * * * I got this survey via email from Chris, and am answering it in lieu of a “real” entry. It seems familiar, and I may have put it in here before, but what the hell. You know you can’t get enough information about me! 1. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? I wake up the first time around 6:40ish, when the spud knocks loudly to announce that she’s leaving to go wait for the bus (the child could walk to school, and not have to leave the house ’til 7:20, but she prefers to ride the bus. Sounds just like me at that age). Then 5 minutes later, more or less, Fred wakes me to chat for a few minutes, then hugs and kisses me before leaving for work. I go back to sleep for anywhere from one to two hours, but I’m definitely out of bed by 9. Unless I had a really late night the night before. 2. IF YOU COULD EAT LUNCH WITH ONE FAMOUS PERSON, WHO WOULD IT BE? I think that the last time I answered this question, I said Stephen King. Now I’m thinking that I’d really like to have lunch with Carol O’Connell. I would adore meeting the brain who created Kathy Mallory. I just finished Crime School last night, and teared up, especially the last line before the epilogue. For that matter, the epilogue had me boo-hoo’ing as well. If you’ve never read any Carol O’Connell books, I highly recommend the Mallory series. 3. GOLD OR SILVER? Ih. I have no real opinion – my wedding band and engagement ring are both gold (even though I hinted STRONGLY that I wanted platinum. Ahem.), but I have silver jewelry as well. I rarely wear jewelry other than my rings, so it’s mostly a moot point. 4. WHAT WAS THE LAST FILM YOU SAW AT THE CINEMA? Errrr… It was something with Fred, wasn’t it? Oh wait, it was Men In Black II with my mother and the kids while I was in Maine. I’m going to see Sweet Home Alabama with the spud this afternoon, though. And I’m hoping to convince Fred to go see Red Dragon with me when we get back from Gatlinburg. And I’ve been wanting to see The Good Girl, too. The list is endless, but I digress. 5. FAVORITE TV SHOW? That would be a tie between Survivor or Friends. Nice that they’re on opposite each other, isn’t it? 6. WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR BREAKFAST? I don’t eat breakfast, and don’t give me shit about it either, or I’ll smack you. 7. WHAT WOULD YOU HATE TO BE LEFT IN A ROOM WITH? Something that would scream and fly at my head. A monkey, maybe. Or dirty litter box. Gah. 8. CAN YOU TOUCH YOUR NOSE WITH YOUR TONGUE? No. I can, however, raise one eyebrow, wiggle my ears, and fold my tongue. I can also make my boobs dance a little jig by using my incredibly strong (yet womanly) pectoral muscles. 9. WHAT INSPIRES YOU? Um. I couldn’t tell you. Not because nothing inspires me, but because nothing’s coming to mind. Miz Poo inspires me! Oh wait, that’s not right. She COMPLETES me, not inspires me… I always get those two mixed up. 10. WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME? Leslie. 11. BEACH, CITY, OR COUNTRY? Beach – but a deserted beach, with no one around for miles, and lots of trees would be ideal. Cities are cool, but I wouldn’t want to live there. 12. SUMMER OR WINTER? Neither. Summer’s too hot, winter’s too cold. I prefer Spring. 13. FAVORITE ICE CREAM? Right now, it’s Godiva Vanilla with Chocolate Caramel hearts. I can actually feel my ass expanding when I eat it. 14. BUTTERED, SALTED OR PLAIN POPCORN? Popcorn’s one of those things that always smells better than it tastes – but if I had to choose, I’d say buttered and salted. 15. FAVORITE COLOR? Yellow, of course! I also like a smokey blue, though. 16. FAVORITE CAR? Favorite car of all time would be a Miata. Favorite car of the moment is the yellow VW Beetle. I can hear them calling me every time I drive by the VW dealership. 17. FAVORITE SANDWICH FILLING? Egg salad, I guess. Although I used to really love those Steak-Ummms minute steaks, and used to make kick-ass steak and cheese sandwiches with them. 18. TRUE LOVE? Do I believe in it? Yes. Do I have a true love? Yes. 19. WHAT CHARACTERISTICS DO YOU DESPISE? People who are condescending. Oh, and socialites who would be horrified at the idea of wearing a $5 t-shirt in public. Get OVER yourself. Okay, that’s not really a characteristic, is it? I also am not fond of liars. 20. FAVORITE FLOWER? Daffodils and sunflowers. Don’t make me choose! Also, carnations. 21. IF YOU HAD A BIG WIN IN THE LOTTERY? I’d buy a house on the ocean in Maine. Then I’d buy a huge tract of land in the country (probably in the south, since Fred would never step foot over the Mason-Dixon line on purpose), build several insulated barns, and go around to every pet shelter and adopt as many cats and dogs as I could. Then I’d hire people to help me take care of them. I’d also pay to have cats and dogs neutered and spayed if their owners couldn’t afford it. Oh, and of course I’d cure world hunger, and I’d form a new country where women like Amina Lawal could flee, and be safe. I guess I’m expecting a lot from one little ol’ lottery, aren’t I? 22. FIZZY OR STILL WATER AS A DRINK? Still water. 23. WHAT COLOR IS YOUR BATHROOM? The master bathroom has cream-colored walls, and smokey blue accessories. 24. HOW MANY KEYS ON YOUR KEY RING? Five? Six? I’m too lazy to go look. 25. WHERE WOULD YOU RETIRE TO? Maine in the summer, Florida in the winter! 26. CAN YOU JUGGLE? IF YES HOW MANY? Nope. I’m not coordinated enough. 27. FAVORITE DAY OF THE WEEK? Thursday, ’cause it’s Survivor night! 28. RED OR WHITE WINE? I don’t drink wine. 29. WHAT DID YOU DO FOR YOUR LAST BIRTHDAY? I absolutely cannot remember. I went back and looked at my entry for that day, but it gives me no clue. Surely we went out to dinner? I don’t know, but I’m sure it was awesome! 30. DO YOU CARRY A DONOR CARD? Yep, and if you ever come across my brain-dead body in an ER, you’re under strict orders to tell them that they can take any organs that would be of use to someone else. It’s not like I’m going to use ’em, after all. * * * I have no idea whether I’ll have time to put up an entry tomorrow before we leave for Gatlinburg. Tomorrow marks 3 years since I began my journal, and I wanted to put up an entry marking the occasion. If I don’t have time to write an entry between now and when we leave tomorrow, I’ll write one when I get back and back-date it. Three years of journalling with only the occasional week off – pretty good, huh? * * * ]]>