Dell's Bells

When my HP desktop crashed THREE TIMES for no explicable reason other than the possible alignment of Saturn and Venus, their not-so-English-speaking-customer service department sent me a box so I could fed-ex the computer that time forgot to them in California. They replaced the hard drive and eventually mailed it back to me - a week and a half later.

My current soulmate, a Dell laptop that's still under warranty, lost/misplaced two letters off the keyboard (completely cat-related, of course, as one was trying to jump on my lap, his claw gripped the keyboard and pulled as he tried desperately to stay attached, but gravity won instead*), so I was thinking they could send a few letters? P and 0? Nah, they sent a whole new keyboard PLUS a cute, tiny screwdriver.

*this reminds me of my boss, who insists that if you throw dice, the number three will come up most often and believes that he knows, from research, the luckiest numbers for the Florida state lottery to eventually win. I keep telling him statistically, the odds of each number is the same. He can refuse to believe in statistics and gravity, but they're still there, regardless.

My laptop screen occasionally blinks, so I thought I could find out if it was covered under the warranty, which it is. A technician came to my house, cleaned the connections and replaced the video card. Two months later, it did it a few times again, so another technician arrived the next day with a brand new screen.

I can't get over this customer service...Budweiser needs something similar.

Not again

At the risk of having cats completly take over my blog, meet Addison, the sister of one-eyed Bowie:
When I got home from work yesterday, I noticed her eyes were barely open and she seemed to be sick. Please let it be a sympathy reaction to her sister losing an eye and nothing more.

They're poisoning cats on Fort Rucker, Alabama...

...and I feel sick.

I mentioned the other day my feral crew of approximately twenty cats at work (well, seventeen, since I took three kittens home. One with a bad eye needed antibiotics, but she was lonely so I grabbed her sister, then yesterday I took them up to visit their mom, who missed them not at all, though their brother was ecstatic to see them so I took him back with me).

Yesterday, there were only ten waiting for breakfast, then today, only six. Someone at work mentioned that they poison the feral cats on base about once a year, to keep the population down, and they had posted the "DO NOT FEED THE CATS" signs just last week, so he figured it was time again. What the hell? Is there a time warp tunnel from the Dark Ages around here?

Military bases are historically chock full of abandoned pets, with soldiers not wanting to go through the trouble or expense to take them once they move, especially overseas. I contacted the Veterinary office on post last week about a feral release program and they told me they would take the cats in, put them up for adoption, then put down the cats that didn't get taken. What part of FERAL do they not understand? No one will adopt these cats. I've fed them every day since November, some of them trust me enough that I could catch them, but I can't live with their blood on my hands if I take them in.

I decided to talk to my Veterinarian, to see if he would give me a discount so I could get the females spayed then return them back to their homebase to roam and hunt rodents, but I never got the chance. They're being murdered by thirds. every. single. day. My boss suggested I verify the information before I continue my obsession.

I'm tired of explaining to rednecks that have shot at birds and squirrels their entire lives with BB guns that this is CRUEL. I'm tired of expecting co-workers to have compassion. I'm tired of not having enough money or space to save them all. I'm just...tired.

Raindrops on roses and eyedrops in kittens

I take my "stupid" pills daily, like a good multivitamin, but this weekend I threw caution to the wind and consumed the entire bottle.

A major SUCKAH for cats, I accidentally ended up with six at home after one disappeared (read here). And at work? I've been feeding an average of ten cats since around October, when we discovered abandoned kittens under one of our storage units. That number has steadily increased, and with the birth of a few more batches, it's up to around twenty. About two weeks ago, I saw a cute little kitten with one brown eye, one blue, and named her Bowie. She was one of the more tame ones, occasionally allowing me to pet her.

When I went in Saturday morning, I noticed her brown eye was closed, with pus and drainage making it impossible for her to open it, so I drove her over to my veternarian, who said it could be a viral or bacterial infection that's caused such a deep lesion. He gave me antibiotics for the eye, antifungal for her ringworm, told me to keep her separated from my animals if I was taking her home, then bring her back Tuesday to see if she's improving.

She looked so lost and pathetic, sitting in the cat carrier in my bathroom by herself, but I didn't want to take her back to work since I have to give her medicine four times a day. I did the only logical thing: went back to work and nabbed her sister. The two of them are living like fat cats.

Captive audience:

From the Barney summer collection

I don't "get" fireworks: they're loud, look the same every year, my pets are terrified and we're in a drought, for heaven's sake! Besides, I'm the anti-celebrator during holidays. It's what I do.

While everyone else was pigging out on hotdogs and rancid cole slaw, I spent my weekend refinishing the little desk in my kitchen. What I envisioned as a sleek, dark eggplant surfing-stand turned out to be more of a grape kool-aid disaster.

I rummaged through my storage shed and found some limewash, which I painted on the desk with my random criss cross brush strokes. Nope. I dug deeper and found some crackle buried beneath some ancient pesticide, slopped some of that over the "raisin" base coat, then covered with a layer of white.


Before: old, dark brown, ragged desk. Dated.




Midproject: grape monstrosity.



After: old, purple, crackled, one-of-a-kind desk. Never been kissed.







I'm still not quite sure what I'll do to help this ugly stepchild of a desk, but I'm guessing some sort of stripping will be involved. For now, I giggle whenever I look at it, and shouldn't home decorating involve laughter? Or is that just me?

'Twas 71

My parents both use the internet phone plan Vonage, so sometimes our conversations are a series of clicks and echos. Sunday's conversation with my dad was particularly crowded with my ghost menagerie, which led him to tell me this:

When my aunt Denise told her son Travis about taking her first trip to Ireland this summer with her four sisters, he told her, "don't go with them, go with me instead." My twenty-seven year old cousin passed away at the end of February, so in the end, aunt Denise would make the journey with her sisters.

They stayed in a room with the skeleton key inside the lock, but the door would rattle and shake every night regardless. "Leave us alone, Travis...we're old women trying to sleep" became part of the nightly ritual.

On the return flight home, my aunt Denise would have to take a different plane home. Flight 71, which was also Travis' jersey number. Coincidence? Or did he perhaps take the trip to Ireland with his mom, afterall?

Think you know me?

100 fun facts:
I always wanted to be an archeologist (and still do)
I believe in reincarnation
I can touch my nose with my tongue
I'm an insomniac
I once thought I was driving to Austria, but ended up in Switzerland
While drunk, I've lost 6 watches
....and 3 pairs of earrings
I once took a Latin exam, and wrote all my answers in Spanish
I can write in cursive, backwards and upside down
I can drink diet pepsi and imagine it's bud light
I can drink an Atkins chocolate protein shake and imagine it's kalua & cream
I've moved 45 times
I'm afraid of bridges
...and seaweed
I've gotten 12 speeding tickets
I would love to go to school forever
I eat crunchy peanut butter out of the jar
I'm a LEO
I wear a sweater if it's cooler than 75 degrees F.
A ouji board told me I'd die at 42 - and I believe it*
     *apparently it lied, as I'm 49 and updating this in 2017
I have whole cds I can't listen to because they make me cry
I can ask for a beer in 6 different languages
I love shoes
....but have ugly feet
I always wanted to have a little girl
My eyes are hazel but bright green when I'm emotional
I have extremely cold-sensitive teeth - sometimes I have to drink beer with a straw
I've never been on a blind date
I sleep with a FLAT pillow
I've broken my nose twice
I've never been in a fist fight
I've weighed from 102 to 148 lbs during the past 10 years
I'm shy
I'm an only child
I accidentally forgot to file my state taxes
TWO YEARS IN A ROW!
I have 6 cats
and a dog
and feed close to 20 wild cats at work
I've driven 120 mph on the Autobahn
I climbed a pyramid in Chichen-Itza with a hangover (and the bus had to stop so I could get out and throw up)
I'm quite sure I was George Harrison's greatest fan
My cell phone plays Fur Elise
I hate talking on the phone
I love Volcanoes
...and Depeche Mode's Dave Gahan's voice.
I never understood logarithms
I eat Whoppers malted milk balls until I'm sick
I was a medic in the Army
I love any and every combination of purple and green
I'm Irish, Hungarian, German and Polish - when people ask, I just say IRISH
I was Captain of my Varsity Lacrosse and Field Hockey teams
I melt butter and pour it over microwave buttered popcorn (a trick I learned from my mom)
I used to be 5'7"...now I'm only 5'5"
I have a hard time saying "I love you"
My ring finger is a size 4-1/2
I consider driving a 5 speed a good workout
I can't parallel park
INXS was the first concert I ever attended...
Natalie Merchant was the most recent
I can whistle, but not sing
Calla Lillies are my favorite flower
I don't like Lord of the Rings
I would kidnap Tom Brady of the NE Patriots if I thought I could get away with it
I learned how to drive when I was 12
...and drove from Michigan to Alabama and back, through snow, when I was 15
...and subtracted 10 years from my dad's life
I love reality tv shows
...but would hate to be on one
I know 4 different versions of solitaire
My 400+ cds are arranged alphabetically
My closet is arranged by color (ROYGBIV)
Each of my shoe boxes has a photo of the pair inside
I can't multi-task
If I had been a boy, my name would be Shane
I got caught cheating in 6th grade and never did it again
I went to a Catholic school for 1st grade
I have a BS in Biology/Chemistry
I don't use an alarm clock (I'm automatically up by 5:00)
When I'm drinking, my ears turn red
....and I can't find enough laps to sit on
One of my biggest faults is insecurity
Another is impulsiveness
But I'm an amazing procrastinator
I was a bartender
My favorite shot is a lemon drop with Absolut
I want to live in Italy
....and eat gelato EVERY DAY!
My favorite song is Peter Gabriel's In Your Eyes
I can't listen to it without crying
I love to vacuum
I drove a 2-1/2 ton truck (deuce and a half) in the Army
I can drive a forklift
I can also take out large chunks of walls with said forklift
I won $350 the first time I played Blackjack
I can forge my ex-husband's signature
I dump potato chips into the dip container and eat them with a spoon
Every week, I buy myself flowers and pretend someone loves me

Giza

"From atop these pyramids, forty centuries look down upon you."

-- Napoleon Bonaparte

**An added bonus of Blogspot: if you click on a photo in an entry, it will appear full size. Can you feel the sand between your toes?

Sans Claws

It's too difficult to fit all my cats in the little hand-held pet carrier, so I've been taking my six cats to the vet's office in groups of two. The males were fixed last month, and today I dropped off the two females to get spayed.

The receptionist was kind enough to call and leave a message where I work after their surgeries:“The surgeries went well, your cats are fine, and you can pick them up Friday afternoon because of the declawing.”

Huh? De-claw-ing? DECLAWING?! That's like going in for a hangnail and coming out with no legs!

The vet came on the line and apologized profusely for the misunderstanding - he'd performed several declawings, but NOT on my felines, who will still be able to climb the kitty condo and tear up my carpet. It would still be in his best interest to give them extra kitty drugs tonight, though.

November 16, 2005 flashback moment
When all four kittens DID fit in the same carrier. With room to spare.

Today's Tom Sawyer

My boy's got wheels!

The car: a 1987 Chevrolet Camaro. It has 86,000 miles, new tires, 6 cylinders and no air-conditioning, which is supposedly a plus because the car will ride lighter and faster. I imagine WE will be riding lighter, at the very least, since it's been in the high 90's all month.

The cost: $2,400. Patrick paid half from his hard-earned dish-washing stashed cash, his father paid the other. I'm actually proud of the two for setting aside their pigheadedness long enough to agree on a car.

Bonus Tom Sawyer moment: since we weren't able to pick up the car until 6 p.m., Ed demonstrated proper waxing technique ON MY CAR.

The year of 24

On my half-sister's fifth birthday, she walked into her mother's bedroom and asked if she knew what day it was. Her mother, no doubt recalling the birth of the ten-pound butterball, answered in the affirmative. My sister gleefully informed her, "it's the year of five!"

Today starts the year of twenty-four.

Speed Racer says...

As we prepared for our road trip from hell, I told my sister I would set my cruise control for 78 mph and she could follow me. She said, "Oh, I don't believe in cruise. I go 80 when my gut tells me it's safe, then I slow down when it tells me it's not."

I'd laugh, too, except she has zero speeding tickets and I have...well, you know.

I called the Mayor's court office in Arlington Heights, Ohio today to find out how much the fine for my ticket was. While it was relatively cheap ($142), I was informed that it was due by my court date...uh, May 18th - a week ago.

Michigan to Alabama: the drugs don't work

Pre-trip meltdown
Sunday morning, 6:00 a.m. phone call from my sister:" I haven't slept in three days, but if I take a sleeping pill I'll be out for ten hours and I won't be able to fininsh packing...I've had the flu and have been throwing up...I can't get ahold of my friend with the pickup truck to help me move my entertainment center and I have to be out of here by tomorrow...but I haven't closed out my bank account yet. What am I supposed to do? Follow you? Our dad yelled at me...and everyone thinks I'm a flaaaaaaake."

Me, in my calmest, no-you're-not-a-crazy-lunatic voice: "Um...no one thinks you're a flake. Did you take one of your little pills? (my sister has a history of serious anxiety attacks - one that required a trip to the hospital in an ambulance, which was the main reason we were driving together as she moved her life south).

Tuesday morning, we met at a gas station in Lansing, Michigan located halfway between us (within about twenty seconds of one another). She had given her cat a tranquilizer to calm her for the sixteen hour car ride, which seemed only to work as a bladder relaxer, as her carrier was soon flooded with cat urine. We decided the cat should ride with me, since I'm calmer (or as my friend said, "the lesser of two fruitcakes") and perhaps the MEOWING wouldn't be so incessant. This worked only in theory, since my ears were bleeding by the second hour.

Our trip was relatively uneventful as we arrived in Bowling Green, Kentucky to stop for the night.

Mistake #1: we stayed in a hotel that had a bar.
Mistake #2: the bar closed before we could finish our last drinks so I suggested she shove those last two in her purse so we could take them to our room. I think I was being a smartass, since she had ruined two phones using this specific method of drink removal in the past, but she grabbed the drinks anyway and killed another innocent phone.

We got off to a late start Wednesday, but I wasn't too concerned since I didn't have to be home until the following morning by 7:00 (I had to take my son to school and go to work). We ate, hung out at rest stops, exchanged cds and puttered our way south.

Murphy's Law dictates that her anxiety attack should occur at the most inconvenient moment possible. Crossing the Alabama State border, still having seven hours of dark, construction-coned road ahead of us, was it. She eventually calmed down, but could no longer drive so we found a hotel room and picked up some food. I gave her my cell phone, took her cat, and resumed my drive home - pulling in the driveway at 4:00 a.m. I was just in time to round up all my cats that were sitting out in the driveway (my ex-husband had stayed here for a week and decided to make them all outdoor cats - GRRRRR!), sleep for an hour, take a shower, and get to work. I'm definitely going to need a few days off to recover from this vacation.

78 in a 55 (Déjà Vu)

I've lived in: Michigan, Texas, Washington, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, and Germany.

I've gotten speeding tickets in: Michigan, Washington, Kentucky, Tennessee, Germany, Indiana (twice)...and now Ohio.

In my own defense, there were four lanes of cars, all speeding. I just happened to be in the middle with an OUT-OF-STATE license plate.

Funniest get-out-of-a-ticket story: my mom was working for an extremely particular boss who didn't tolerate tardiness. She left the house a little late, was pulled over by a policeman for speeding, and asked him to write a note so she wouldn't get in trouble once she got to work.

Shades of blonde

I stopped by the dry cleaners, on a whim, to see if my missing pink sweater that I wore to my dad's wedding reception might be there. "Yep", the cashier told me, "you owe $28.79". Sure, I bought it at Banana Republic, it has a great neckline, and is super soft, but almost $30? To clean? Beer and mozarella cheese stick stains are that difficult to remove?

Returning with my pink sweater and two dresses (ahhhhh), she told me they'd been there since October 2004, and were on their way to Goodwill this weekend, if I hadn't shown up.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I saw my house on the internet, on a local realtor's listing website, went to look at it during my lunch hour, and put in an offer the next day. I immediately fell in love with the yard, which is a beautiful corner lot with puh-lenty of trees and blooming azaleas. The only problem? I'm not exactly sure where my property line is. I'd like to rake it and take some cuttings, but I'm kind of embarrassed to go next door and ask after a year and a half. Either way, somebody should probably get out there and rake.

L'Oreal. Because I'm worth it.

You be the judge - doesn't that little green pylon look like a property marker?

This is really an odd way to leave a text message, but okay...

The plan: my sister is moving to Alabama in May to live with her mother for the summer and take a few college classes while she's here. She wanted me to fly to Michigan, then ride down here with her so she'll have someone to share the 20+ hour drive south. The road trip tatoos are being negotiated.

The snag: my sister is a flake. A beautiful blonde airhead. I've booked my ONE WAY ticket to Michigan, but can't reach her to double-check the date of my arrival. She hasn't answered her phone, which has no voicemail, and I'm guessing there was another incident involving her cell phone and an open bottle of beer from the bar hidden in her purse.

I am going to kick. her. ass. if I'm taking a week off to fly one way and she's changed the plan.

A shallow, unmarked grave

Looks like the cat mafia has a new calling card.
A second dead chipmunk was placed outside my door tonight.

[This is actually my gentlest kitten, Crackhead Kennedy, yawning.

No drunken, aspiring photographers - me - were harmed during the taking of this photo]

The sighs of March

My son was born on the last day of March in 1990 and every year we celebrate my pain and sixty pound weight gain, not with a card or flowers, but with phone calls from school principals. It’s always a different school, with different specifics, but it’s still the same: your son is disruptive and disrespectful and something needs to be done. I agree, apologize to the administrators, then try yelling, threatening and reasoning with the child who doesn’t seem to care that he’s making his life, and mine, miserable.

He’s had a good life with two parents who love him, never been hungry, and only been dropped on his head once. He’s seen counselors since he was young, taken anger management programs in multiple schools, yet still has such pent up frustration and rage, especially towards authority figures. And absolutely zero respect for the person who loves him the most: me.

Last year in March, when his dad was in Iraq, I drove him to a new school rather than send him to the alternate school for druggies, thieves and common criminals. He’s intelligent, getting A’s and B’s…didn’t he deserve another chance?

Now, with seven unexcused absences since January, he’s an inch away from getting no credit for the entire semester. Again! The principal suspended him for a day, for his constant disruptive behavior, and I’m at my wit’s end. Is it time to let him pay the consequences, even if it means dropping out of school in 10th grade, like his dad believes? What do I do when he pushes the snooze button for every single wake up call?

It makes me wonder...if there had been a mandatory exam before motherhood, would I have passed with a high enough score to have a child? Or would the hypothetical school for parents told me to stick with kittens?

How does one go about getting banned from Lowe's??

Hypothesis: the smaller the project, the more furniture I'll have in my driveway waiting to be crackled.

Some mildew on the bathroom wall. Relatively small and easy to fix, I assume, as I head off to Lowe's to pick up some mildew remover. Unfortunately, their ingenious floor plan means it's not possible to leave the store without passing through paint and plants.

Mildew cleaner (focus, focus...).

I really should pick up some paint for the bathroom, to freshen it up a bit, since I'm here. First I'll have to patch a few small holes in the wall, then the ceiling, where a piece of the popcorn ceiling fell off (it's also moist, not a good sign as far as the roof goes, but I'll have someone come look at that later). Oh, yeah, and the hole in the living room from where the carpet installer had taken a gash out of the wall? I should fix that, too, since I'll have the joint compound and trowel tools. My dark wood bathroom cabinet, which I never did care for, is going to look out of place now, but I can't afford a new one, so I'll just take off the doors and paint it...it'll need new hardware.

I find what I need, plus some Tuscan accents paint for my living room (to cover the new patch) and a trailing ivy. I return home, move the bookshelves out of the way, and decide to try cackling them since they're already emptied out. The primer is on the bedroom walls, there's a thick layer of dust in the bathroom from sanding the patches and I'm about to start painting the living room.

Now what did I do with that mildew cleaner...?

License and registration, ma'am

I fell in love today.

Oh, sure we had a rocky start, as I watched him two-finger peck my car registration information into his computer. I tapped my foot, exhaled several times (loudly), and chewed through three packs of gum as I wrestled with the idea of jumping over the counter to help the idiot type FASTER. But then, after twenty excruciatingly long minutes, he handed my driver's license back to me and said, "you definitely don't look your age. You don't look a day over 32."

Me: My eyes are puffy today...and I didn't sleep (kittens!)....

Lovebunny: Well, you look amazing for your age. You look amazing for any age.

Me: Thank you. I'll be back tomorrow.

Fair-feathered friends

I complain a bit/all the time about the messes my kittens make because it seems to be never-ending. Like the hockey tournament they held in the kitchen with an entire box of Fruit Loops, or the glasses of water they consistently knock over, or even the trail of kitter litter throughout the house. Today, however, I reset the bar.

I was trying to change a lightbulb above the fireplace, lost my balance (I never claimed to be graceful), fell onto the mantle, which is apparently not attached, flipped it over and caused four potted plants with soil to sail through the air and crash onto the (BEIGE) carpet. Oh, and the black basalt cat statue I had from Egypt? It's not so much stone as something...less stone-like and more breakable since the ears broke off. Stupid cats.

My best investment: their new feather bed, which should sleep one but will occasionally sleep four. It keeps them out of trouble for...minutes at a time.

Center for Disease Uncontrollable

My son, Dr. Truant, informed me this morning that he had pink eye.

Me: Let me see. Yeah, it's just red from staying up too late on the computer last night. Get in the shower.

Truant: Pink eye is extremely contagious you know.

Me: Don't make out between classes and you'll be fine. You missed yesterday because of a sore throat - you are going to school today. Per-i-od.

So, dumbass walked into his first block class and told the teacher he might have pink eye...and home he was sent. His theory, he told me tonight, is that he has bacterial conjunctivitis caused by streptococcus, thereby explaining his sore throat and red eye in one devious plot twist (this only confirms my theory that he's spending too much time on the internet).

My kittens are battling their own contagious fungal infection - ringworm - right now (any idea how difficult it is to give pills to four squirming little maniacs with teeth?).

Me? I've been itchy, scratching, feeling a fungal/bacterial growth over my entire body. Maybe my son will write me a doctor's note so I can skip work on Monday.

Sisters Q

I consider myself an only child, with a twenty-three year old sister (we have the same father) and a fourteen year old brother (same late blooming mother), because I was almost an adult when they came along. Instead of sharing a room, fighting over clothes, and learning social skills, I was lost in a book or setting up Monopoly tournaments for me, myself and I.

My sister left yesterday and I'm actually missing her as I find signs of her visit: her ring on my nightstand, Bud Light bottles in the bathroom, the gum stuck to my Cosmo, the black sweater with sparkles she let me borrow...(don't worry, I'm mailing you everything! Probably. Heh).

She's a true extrovert - the one in a room with the sparkly personality that people can't help but want to be near, while I've always been more introverted and reserved. I used to be envious of her ease with strangers and her comparatively easy childhood, but our struggles are simply different and I'm finally able to appreciate our similarities (like singing Van Morrison songs at the top of our lungs in the bar).

She's my anxiety-ridden, music-providing, beer-sharing, crazy-cat-lady-in-training sister and I feel a little less alone in the world with her in it.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
- James Blunt

Ask not for whom the ball drops, it drops for thee

You know you must have had a fun night when, the following day at noon, you're standing outside the strip bar in your pyjamas, 3" pumps, and princess tiara, banging on the door to see when you can get your credit card back (Monday, after 4:00).

12/31/2005: My sister TQ somehow convinced me to wear a little black boob-ilicious dress for our adventure New Year's Eve because it coordinated well with her sleek, backless black pant suit. Apparently, jeans and t-shirts are the southern dress code for bringing in the New Year in Alabama since we were WAY overdressed the entire evening.

We drank our beer and champagne at her mother's house until around 10:00, then decided to head to a gay bar in town. We met a couple of friendly women in line for the restroom ("Only one person may enter at a time. Strictly enforced"), but everyone there was a couple, so my drag queen sister and I kissed each other on the cheek when the ball dropped.

We drove through thick fog to the strip club and met Chad, my co-worker, in the parking lot. We stayed until last call, then headed to a "private" bar that stays open as long as anyone wants to drink (I'd never heard of this until I moved here, but apparently, as long as you are a "member" with a cheap cardboard name card, the party never ends. This has been my downfall many, many times).

More beer followed, then some guy that wanted my sister to pose with his band, bought us shots of Jagerbombs. I'd have to pinpoint this moment as the one she checked out for the evening:


It was around 6:30 a.m. by this time, so we decided to take the long way home, swinging by work so I could feed my ten stray cats. It's a bit unorthodox to be wandering around in high heels, out in the fog, with the sun coming up, carrying cat food and yelling, "Here, kitty, kitty..." but it was really important that I feed them, and don't argue with me when I'm drunk!

Don't open 'til...New Years

I used to write term papers the night before they were due. I file my taxes every year on April fourteenth and leave for work each morning five minutes late. I have perfected the fine art of procrastination and Christmas is my opportunity to shine. The day after Thanksgiving, when people get up at 4 a.m. to stand in line for sales? I'm at home stuffing my face full of pumpkin pie.

Since my family and friends live in other states and I have to ship their packages, my deadline for the hoopla is earlier. Last year, I waited until the 23rd of December and ended up having to FedEx them overnight so the little gremlins would have perfectly coiffed and coordinated gifts under the tree in time. It cost $186 - almost as much a flight I could have gotten to DELIVER the gifts in person. I am happy to report that this year I went to UPS (so I could use that awesome internet tracking device that tells me everything is currently in Sharonville, Ohio) and all my gifts should arrive in time. Eventually I'll get smart and send gift cards, but for this year, I can finally relax.

My ex- will be coming back from Iraq in about two weeks, which means he'll repossess his truck and I'll be buying a car. I can probably get a better deal if I wait until the last minute, right? RIGHT?!

The sweet, sweet smell of single

"You bought a WHAT?!"

"And paid HOW MUCH?!?

Being single means never having to rationalize any purchase or hide packages in my trunk. I stroll leisurely to the mailbox on the 22nd of each month, when the credit card bill arrives.

Meet my new Canon Powershot S80 8 megapixel digital camera...for no other reason than I wanted it. HA! Take that, you big fat man in a red polyester suit!

Pass the Resolve carpet cleaner

My bulimic cat Savannah purges most days between 3 and 4 o'clock in the morning. Since I replaced the carpet in the house when I moved in, I try to get up when I hear those pre-retching noises, grab her, and throw her in my bathroom, which is tiled, for easier clean up.

Right on schedule, this morning at 3:17, I heard the beginning of another puke ritual. I had two kittens sleeping beteen my legs, one on my chest and one near my head, so as I lept out of bed, I became twisted in the duvet and landed flat on my ass.

It's been one of those weeks.

And on the sixth day, she said, "Let there be Lucky Charms."

Apparently, six is the number of days I can stick to a low-carb diet before cracking, sitting on the kitchen floor eating bowl-after-bowl of Lucky Charms. It all started with Doritos, just a handful of crumbs from the bottom of the bag that my son had left sitting on the desk. Once I started...well, let's just say that while I understand the concept of moderation, I cannot practice it.

Damn the Doritos.

Royal Indigo

Each morning, I pull out my identification to show the guard, who lets me pass through the gate, onto the base, so I can go into the hellhole otherwise known as work. Yesterday, the guard at the gate said to me, "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Princess Diana?"

Technically, yes, but he had Down's Syndrome so I took it with a grain of salt. I'm sure it's the hair combined with my regal nose, but it still made me smile...perhaps my son will look like Prince William.

If you change points of view
You may change a vote
And when you change a vote
You may change the world

Princess Di is wearing a new dress
- Depeche Mode

Dogbreath

Four times per day, seven days a week, I feed my kittens a well-balanced assortment of food guaranteed to please: liquid Whiska's catmilk, tiny cans of overpriced soft food, and crunchy chow.

What do they prefer? Dog food.