Home

Advertisement

~*~ Crabby Chic ~*~ [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Bitchery Through The Ages

[ My Profile: | userinfo ]
[ My Sordid Past: | journal archives ]
[ My Greatest Hits: | selected memories ]
[ My Scrapbook: | selected photos ]

Links
[All About Evil:| ~*~Greatest Hits~*~ Lucy-Fur~*~ ~*~Japanese Engrish~*~ ~*~Cracked~*~ ]

(no subject) [Mar. 8th, 2008|12:01 pm]
[Tags|, , , , , ]

I'm drinking tea and watching the boys play right now... I am SOOO happy that Ornery "Hobbes" Mocha G___ and Smokey "Love-Fluff" Marvolo George G___ have moved in, because they are the lights of my life and absolutely adore each other and us (well, Hobbes adores his daddy, and Smokey adores me). I lurves my boys. They fight/groom the way Bella and Fatty do - one pins one down and starts washing the other, and then the other gets all uppity and impatient and aggressively starts washing the first one. Oh, and Hobbes can fly. He sometimes randomly leaps straight up into the air, as high as 5 feet up, and attacks the door frame. Then he says "Brrrt!" and runs off. No one knows why. And Smokey likes to hold my hand with his paw when I'm studying. That right there is a mama's boy. It's a far cry from the day he moved in, when he was so freaked out that he hissed at everything for days, including Hobbes and his food.

It's finally Spring Break, and no one needed it more than I do. I was seriously starting to hate life, and was only going to about half my classes. I was totally frazzled and cried for no reason, and when someone spoke to me I replied in grunts or monosyllables. Not a happy time. So I'm free (sorta); I'll be spending most of this week reviewing, working on my argument brief, getting the car seen to, and hopefully catching up with a few friends. Also, I'll be working on Tod's birthday present - yes, I KNOW his birthday's not until November, but it could take a long time to get exactly right, especially as when I'm in school I have no time to make things. But trust me, it's gonna be really fucking cool.

I'm currently recovering from one of those awful dreams where I was writing an endless paper (I was Harry Potter, oddly enough, writing on the improbable migration of certain African peoples down to Puerto Rico. Not sure why Harry Potter would be writing about that, but Ron thought it was brilliant), and it lasted FOREVER, and went on in tortuous detail. I can still remember editing out certain phrases, and replacing them and everything; very tedious. It must be guilt for having been such a massive slacker this past week, and reminding me that I need to be on top of things. I think I'll recover by watching some telly.

But I'm not actually used to having the time to watch TV, except for "Lost," "Runway," and CNN in the mornings, and I need to figure out what's good now. I am definitely not going to be watching "Dancing With The Stars." I saw a clip of Marie Osmond dressed up and dancing like a doll one time, and almost choked on my own vomit of terror. I haven't been quite the same since then.

I've seen a few episodes of "Heroes", and that seems really good, but I'm too behind now to catch up on that except via Netflix. Poop. Also, I hear "Psych" is over for the season. Poop a lot.

When I do watch CNN, all I ever see is the same damn ad for the Royal Bank of Scotland. They didn't used to be so bad; they once featured a strong, silent James Bond-esque banker who quietly saved the day in various ways while everybody else dithered. Not at all objectionable. But this recent one is simply too much. It features a boy's prep school's Founders Day, and the guest speaker is droning on and on and making lame analogies about life, and finally this one kid stands up and cuts him off by saying "The end!" It's not particularly smooth or imaginative of him, but his fellows seem grateful and applaud, and he smiles modestly and tugs on his ear. Cut to 25 years later, and the same guy, grown up, is smiling smugly and tugging on his ear, remembering that day when he was enough of a douche to interrupt this poor guy speaking in front of a bunch of ungrateful snots at a boy's school, and everybody loved him for it. I hope he gets run over by an autobus the next time he steps out onto an Edinburgh street.

I also heartily dislike that ad for Johnny Walker Blue Label. It's a very abstract ad, captioned "For those who know what to look for." I can make out a guy and a bottle of Blue Label, but what the hell is he looking at?!? Is it a bus? There may be a cow in there somewhere. Clearly, I don't know what to look for. And it makes me feel like an idiot. (It's on the back of last week's New York Times Magazine, if anyone feels like taking a look at it and enlightening me.)

I think I'm done rambling for the nonce.
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Feb. 24th, 2006|06:31 pm]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | amused]

MY SMALL KITTEN JUST LOST TWO OF HER BABY TEETH!!! I'm sorry, Bubba; I will never doubt you again (although you were totally wrong about the authorship of a certain song).

Speaking of, T. was peripherally acquainted with several of the participants in the newest Portland murder case. These things just happen to him; I am frequently amazed at how interesting his life always is. Not jealous, mind you, just...fascinated.

Still can't get over that Adam/Ethan e-mail; corporate death threats are so seldom funny, y'know? I do miss Ethan; he was a friggin' riot sometimes. Nik, if you haven't seen it, ask A. to show it to you; you will pee your pants laughing. (On second thought, maybe you should wait and read it at home...)

In a related vein, recently Timmy and I spent the greater part of our lunch break ranting about the institutionalized evil at æ (stage-whispered by one of our co-workers to another: "Do you think we should tell them that they have another job now?"). He compared that unique bondage to prison, and I compared it to a destructively co-dependent marriage.

As much as I hate to admit it, though, the multiple reigns of terror did make us stellar employees. We just had the fear of making mistakes (even inconsequential ones) ground right into us. Heh - when I first got hired, our trainer emphasized that although we were dealing with peoples' lives, we were still "only human" and we would occasionally make mistakes. I remember cocking my head to one side and looking at her, confused, rather like the RCA dog looks at the gramophone. But apparently, we have real jobs now and this is how the grown-up world operates - with compassion and tolerance.

Maybe this is a slightly melodramatic attitude, but I really don't think so. I think that five years from now I'll still be running into former long-time æ employees and we'll still feel relentlessly compelled to reminisce; maybe it'll help to purge the poison somehow.

Hopefully...
LinkWhat's your damage?

Hey, check out my small kitten o' wrath! [Jan. 16th, 2006|09:23 am]
[Tags|]



Oh, the unbridled rage that is kittenhood!

So, I may actually be employed now (unless one of my references, tired of vouching for me lo these many moons, flips out and screams, "Lucy can rot in hell!" when asked about my work history, or good character, or abilities, or whatever the hell it is that they ask about nowadays). So: go, me (maybe)!

I am also single now; not my usual version of single where I've still got a guy around for sex and companionship (which is startlingly like not being single, now that I think upon it), but the real, alone-every-night, totally-freakin'-celibate, not-talking-on-the-phone-with-each-other-every-day type of single. As I said earlier, it may not be particularly pleasant, but I think it'll be good for me in the long run.

*deep breath*

Buggrit...

* * *


Here's what I hate: that shrill "Cojo" creature from one of those celebrity entertainment shows. And the celebrity entertainment shows themselves. And 99% of celebrities. And all award shows. And most Hollywood blockbuster movies (although I would like to see "Good Night, And Good Luck").

Here's what I like: ME
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Jan. 10th, 2006|02:55 am]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | elated]
[ambiance |...The Police - "King of Pain" (thanks, Cooper!)...]

Had an idea in the night, and woke myself up and tried it, and now my scanner works again; I really had thought that it was irreparably broken. (See; I told you that my dreams are fabulously useful!) This means that now I can scan in pictures of some of my newer artwork and digitally upload the rest; I'll post a notice to this effect when I've updated my web page accordingly.

I have been sans medications for at least two weeks; a dangerous thing, but at least I'm not schizophrenic or something equally dire. Although if I was, and I had a psychotic break and whacked someone, do you think I could sue the government for failing to provide Americans with rudimentary healthcare, which in most civilized countries is deemed both was necessary and proper? Actually, I'm pretty sure that one is unable to sue the government, but that feeling is nothing more than a vague hunch. How did I get a degree in Political Science since I am clearly dumber than a box of hair‡?

[info]tribal_woman, I hope you enjoy Red Sky at Morning; it's one of my two favorite books, the other being Franny and Zooey. I used to make the important people in my life read it, as a sort of core curriculum for knowing me, before I realized that one cannot bludgeon people into adopting one's tastes, however much one would like to, dammit...!

Bella is changing colors again; now not only have her eyes become green, but also it seems that her undercoat is slowly turning gray (specifically, her nether regions, her tummy, and under her tail, so far). I'm glad that I was initially besotted enough to take so many pictures, since the little bugger is constantly morphing like...well...a cat. (Curse you, Donald Fagen, for being so damnably prescient!)

Oh my Lord I am so absolutely busy! I should go back to bed now; I have a full day tomorrow. Honestly, I never did nearly as much stuff when I actually had a job. I'll be glad to get back to work so that I can once again ignore about half of this crap with a clear conscience.

                           (ME, Eloise)





‡ Southerners: please feel free to substitute the latter phrase with the more accepted regionalism, "a bag of hammers".
Link2 Heathers What's your damage?

Ok, I think they should all show now... [Jan. 7th, 2006|08:33 pm]
[Tags|]
[ambiance |...Adam Sandler - "Piece of Shit Car"...]

Here're some pics, if you're interested. If you're not, you can kiss my shapely white ass.

(Me, posing in the Funky Scarf of Glamour that I will most likely never wear again.)

( Cat pictures and Christmastime: )

Yep. Gotta love the holidays...
LinkWhat's your damage?

50 Ways to Kill Your Rodent: [Dec. 9th, 2005|09:30 pm]
[Tags|]
[ambiance |...Randy Newman - "Dixie Flyer"...]

Just had a traumatic incident; my Bel caught her first mouse (no, not her beloved Fat Mousie). She's only about 2 months+...my little one's growing up! *snif*

Now, I like mice just fine when they're alive, and am a little sad but resigned when I see a dead one. However, I do not like them when they're dying; there's nothing I can do to help them, and I'm not sure how to put them out of their misery. So the poor little thing was squeaking away while she was playing with it, and when I wrenched it out of Bella's mouth that probably gave it the coup de grace. But just to make sure, I wrapped it tightly in plastic bags so it wouldn't have any air and would suffocate relatively painlessly.

I THINK that's the most humane way I could have handled it at this time of night. I suppose I could have hit it over the head with a hammer, or left it in the garage with the car running, or put it out in the snow to freeze, but none of those really appealed to me (gee, I can't think why).

The one upside to the situation is that my Mouse was with Bel at the time, and usually she would have been the one to catch the little bugger. She has a keen killer instinct, and she can outwrestle any of the other cats, paws down; presumably some of her vastness is muscle. But this time she let Bella be the one to make the kill. I cannot tell you how proud I am that my Fatty has become not only a snuggler and bath-giver, but also a mentor to the kitten. She's at least as nurturing as if she'd given birth to Bella herself.

So now my kitten is prancing about as if she'd just discovered the cure for feline leukemia or something, and Mousie is beaming fondly at her, and I'm the only one who's bothered by the death of this small rodent. I'm always this way: pets, squirrels, birds - you name it. I won't kill any spiders or insects that don't suck blood. I actually feel more at the death of an animal than the deaths of most people I hear about in the news. Actually, I guess it's the helplessness of a creature that brings out my empathy; homeless people and children also have the same effect on me. Hm.

Bel's snuggled up in my bed now; she's exactly the same kitten she was an hour ago, but now she feels just a little alien to me. I can deal with that, but I'm still glad she had some cat chow before coming to bed. I am NOT curling up with a kitten with stanky mouse-breath.
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Dec. 7th, 2005|05:06 pm]
[Tags|, ]

Bella is the only cat I've ever met who likes having her tummy patted; I always thought that that aversion was a biological imperative; I think Desmond Morris says something about that in that book of his. Hm...maybe Bella has a dog somewhere in her gene pool. It seems about as improbable as having a cat who likes tummy-rubs, anyway. I found a flea on her the other day and was aghast; my cats NEVER have fleas. I combed everyone with a fine-toothed comb and didn't find any more, but now I have these psychosomatic itches. I am so suggestible...


One of the major drawbacks of our country being so collectively "plugged-in" and having having access to shows and networks such as Entertainment Tonight and E! and E! Style Network and MTV and VH1 and Access Hollywood and Showbiz Tonight and The Insider...

*gasp for air*

...is that now it's a lot harder to blow smoke up someone's ass. Yesterday I was trying to tell my mother that "crunk" is the new crack. She said, "bullshit!" and proceeded to give a dissertation on "crunk as musical phenomenon". She knew shit that I'm pretty sure even Lil' Jon doesn't know.

And then she told me I was "wack". Uppity honky bizz-natch...


"Top Model" finale tonight, and if Nik doesn't win this one I am going to stage a riot in the street that will not end the judges realize how stupid they've been and change their minds. (Or until a car comes and I have to move.)
LinkWhat's your damage?

Semi-coherent ramblings: [Dec. 5th, 2005|12:13 am]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | vexed and ratty]

I have finally decided what I want for my birthday in April: a door. We Tauri are renowned for our materialism.   ;D

Those of you familiar with my house will remember that there's a twisty staircase that leads up to my garret, but no actual door. (My attic is also impervious to the laws of physics; heat apparently ceases to rise in the presence of a twisty staircase, and right now it is literally about 25 degrees in here, although it's 70 downstairs.)

So anyway, the stairs generally afford me a reasonable amount of privacy. However, when all four of my little "limbs of Satan" begin rampaging around on their four little limbs of Satan (that's 16 limbs, if you're keeping track), it is impossible to keep them out, unless I invite the plumber over, and that's only a deterrent to two out of the four. This can be a problem when...oh, I don't know...I ACTUALLY NEED TO GET SOME GODDAMN FRIGGIN' SLEEP, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY! Bella is of course the worst offender; she keeps attacking my poor defenseless toes, or attempting to knock over my Tiffany water-lily lamp, or making noises in the other room that, from the sound of them, can only be the whole bunch of them playing mumblety-peg (how do you even throw knives when you don't have thumbs?).

Curse it...!

Since I'm here anyway, I've got another entry for my Cavalcade of Cavil-worthy Commercials: it's that cell-phone commercial with the pop-eyed blonde woman (Tod opines that she comes from Russian peasant stock) who's talking about the actions that she takes to get over a break-up. She enumerates a bunch of things and says that lastly, she deletes the guy from her cell-phone. "He wasn't in my phone; I don't even know who he is anymore. David who?" and laughs like a maniac. I'm wondering whether this "David" isn't merely one of the myriad voices in her head that tell her to do bad, bad things with a sharpened soup-spoon to the warden after lights-out.

Also, does anybody besides me think that it's a little excessive for a toothbrush to have an "on-board computer"? I thought that for an item to have something "on board", you must be able to board said item. (Actually, I suppose it is technically possible if you are a very sad, lonely woman. Or man. Ew...some celebrity needs to do a "The More You Know" PSA about the very real dangers and creepy ramifications of toothbrush-boarding.)

Grmph. Bella's finally tired herself out and is now sitting composedly on my bed, purring and blinking sweetly up at me, and the others are playing "James Bond", or "Cowboys and Indians", or something else that requires lots of gratuitous scampering. And now I am irrevocably awake. (I was having such a nice dream, too...) Little fartknocker; she got the rest of them stirred up. I will spit in her kitten chow, just see if I don't.
LinkWhat's your damage?

Warning: vituperative rant to follow: [Nov. 17th, 2005|12:35 am]
[Tags|, ]
[ambiance |"Woo hoo, woo hoo hoo!" (repeat until you DIE)]

It's probably just a side-effect of spending most of my spare time not with Tod but painting in front of the telly, but I really fucking hate commercials more than ever.‡

In particular, I hate the Vonage one with the sprightly little ditty that goes, "Woo-hoo, woo hoo hoo!" all the goddamn time. I have had that song in my head for HOURS and now am locked in a vicious spiral of rage. Plus, I hate their name; "Vonage" sounds like a condition that involves a gynecologist and/or some type of discharge: "I can't come to work today; I've got Vonage!" Ick...

Also, according to the movie trailer, the musical "Rent" supposedly "defined a generation". Don't presume, "Rent".

Oh, yeah, and then there's the Hallmark commercial in which about 20 people stand around a 6" tall "piano snowman" and roar merrily along with whatever inane Christmas tune "he"'s playing. According to the voice-over woman, no one can resist it! I'd like to know how plastered I'd have to be to find a piano-playing animatronic snowman to be anything less than tackily loathsome.

Also profoundly disturbing: the KY Warming liquid couple (*shudder*). Of this commercial I shall not further speak, lest my brain explode.

Thank you for listening.

In other current events:

I'm missing Tod rather badly. Apparently he's now at home collecting Workers' Compensation (after one week on the job!) as he tore a ligament and now wears a splint. Awwwwwww!!! You know, "a fallen colossus", etc...

Had one of the most traumatic experiences of my life the other night; at about 4:30 in the morning, I rolled over in my sleep onto something small and soft, and heard a loud crunch! I instantly woke up, turned on the light, and proceeded to frantically poke, prod, and kiss the Bella, trying to ascertain whether she was dead or traumatized or permanently brain-damaged! After a moment, to my eternal relief, she shook her little head (exactly like a cartoon character who's just had an anvil dropped on its head and is shaking it off), jumped down off of the bed, and began to play with a bit of fluff. Whew!!! I've been watching her pretty closely for the past few days for signs of physical or mental damage, but she's just as playful and affectionate as ever (and she doesn't seem to blame Mummy, either).

So what with the strain of sleeping more rigidly now (my body somehow knows on some level that it's not supposed to toss/turn so much anymore) and my falling down the stairs earlier that day (big ol' patches of skin missing from both arms, and numerous bumps and bruises), I am one hurtin' cowpoke. Wish I wasn't so clumsy...!

I'm sitting across from Bruce right now, and he is making some very suggestive comments re: me being "on the market", as he terms it. Tough, Bruce. No ass for you!

Finished the crossword puzzle I was designing (a product of extreme boredom), but members of my focus group have deemed it too Will Shortz-esque (i.e., difficult). So now I'm going to have to find a new focus group, 'cause I sure as hell ain't changing the puzzle. I worked way too hard on that bad boy.

That is all.





‡If you find yourself in the same frame of mind, you can mosey on over to the Commercials I Hate message board and Nathan, Angry McPisseron, and the rest of the gang'll do right by you.
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Oct. 31st, 2005|06:02 pm]
[Tags|]

In other, slightly less astonishing news, the kittens have arrived, and they are perfect! Bella is a fuzzy ball of energy, but when she does quiet down, she likes to curl up on Mummy's chest or neck and purr and rub faces or fall asleep. She is the most beautiful, innocent thing I have ever seen. Hobbes is less rambunctious, but can play rough sometimes, which Daddy encourages. We've had two "play dates" with the two of them so far, and one with both cats and Squeaks The Bunny.

My other cats are less accepting than Squeaks is, but I still cherish hopes, especially for the Mouse; she's so sweet and curious, and doesn't hiss anymore. They've actually started playing together, in a cautious sort of way. We always considered getting her a kitten, and I'm hoping that this "warming trend" continues unabated.

I have decided that Mexican food must possess narcotic properties similar to crack or McDonalds fish sandwiches. I have of late, but wherefore I know not, been craving and eating Mexican like a motherfuck. But I get to; I'm eating for two now (although Bella will not actually benefit from all the Mexican food Mummy consumes, per se).
LinkWhat's your damage?

OH MY FREAKIN' GOD!!! [Oct. 14th, 2005|09:42 am]
[Tags|, , , , ]
[ambiance |...Indigo Girls - "Airplane"...]

Yesterday was, without a doubt, my luckiest day ever:

First of all, æ just "recapitalized" (whatever that means; sounds to me like the company's value went up upon further investor analysis or something) in preparation for selling the company, which means that we were all due to get a bonus. At the time they mentioned it to us, I figured that it would be somewhere in the area of $300 - $500, which: very nice, but not exactly earth-shaking. However, that was about 6 months ago and I'd forgotten all about it.

So at around the end of the day yesterday, the I-man and Mae started handing people envelopes; I got mine and opened it, and my jaw fucking dropped. The check was for $1600! This, for someone like me who lives from month to month, is HUGE. Only the other day my mother and I were talking about some major and depressing budget cuts we were going to have to make, and now...!

After my heart stopped fluttering a little, I got really bummed out because Tod had just gotten his bank account overdrawn, and the rat bastards had assessed another $150 in overages. So he basically had -$180, and he thought that he might have to move out of the apartment because Adam has been so uncooperative about finding another roommate. Telling him that I'd just received a large sum of money from a company he'd left less than two weeks ago seemed like it would be adding insult to injury when he was so broke and demoralized. I had to tell him, though; he'd have found out anyway, and, what's more, I don't like keeping things from him.

So I called him and told him, attempting to downplay it somewhat, and when I finished telling him about it, he said, very quietly, "I got mine too."
Me: "EEEEEEEEEEE!"

Apparently he'd gone to the bank to protest the overage charges, because they hadn't told him about their new policies after the bank switched hands or something, and he found both his paycheck and about $700 extra! I was so goddamn chuffed that I couldn't stop laughing like a maniac. I rang off, promising that I'd come over later.

So Hanna let me go home about an hour early, about which I was overjoyed because I just couldn't wait to tell my mother (we own the house together and have a joint bank account, so this affects her as much as it does me). When she walked in the door, she looked kind of pissed and asked why I was home early. I told her that I thought we could afford it, and showed her the check.

After we both stopped screaming, we both managed to calm down and talk about other things, including the kitten I had fallen in love with on Tuesday.

*** Flashback:***

She's Tod's kitten's youngest sister, although she doesn't look a thing like him: she's all black except for white on the tips of each paw; she looks as if she's wearing nail polish. She's very fuzzy and has blue eyes, and she is very beautiful. I call her Bella, which is maybe rather trite but it does suit her perfectly. When we got there she was as hyper and playful as the rest of her siblings, but later on she calmed down and sat on my lap and fell asleep in a ball in a very sweet and ladylike manner.

But the real surprise was Tod's kitten; although all of the kittens were gamboling all over the goddamn place, and I kept trying to cuddle with him, he kept gravitating towards his new daddy, and finally got up on his lap, curled up, and fell asleep with all four of his paws in the air! Even when he started slipping into the crevice between T.'s knee, he just kept blinking trustingly up at him. It was the damndest thing! Tod, of course, looked as happy as I'd ever seen him. He is thinking of naming him "Hobbes" (for he is stripey), or possibly "Qui-Gon Poo-Poo".

***End of flashback***


So I'd been lobbying M. about little Bella for a couple of days, and she'd pretty much nixed the idea since we have three adorable little bastards already, but yesterday she capitulated! So I called Diane to check and see whether she was already spoken for, and (of course, because it was my lucky day) she wasn't! My cup done runneth over.

Another cool thing about yesterday (as if the above stuff wasn't enough!) is that my best friend from middle school, Tara, got in touch with me via myspace.com! After 14 freakin' years! I can't wait to see what she's been up to after all this time.

So last night, already high from the crazy day I'd had, I went to the mall (ick!) with Tod so he could get some goldenseal. To my surprise, I was able to get about ½ of my Christmas shopping done - yaaaay! Also, T. was unusually (and wonderfully) demonstrative yesterday, even for him; I was totally basking in all of this affection!

So that was what happened on Thursday.
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Oct. 7th, 2005|03:13 am]
[Tags|, ]
[ambiance |...Zorak - "Painful Acres" song...]

Mang, I'm only going to end up with about 5 hours of sleep now, but I have insomnia anyway. I wish I could tell my body to wise the hell up; it'll only be pissy tomorrow at work when it's feeling sleep-deprived, and then it'll blame me.

Did my quarterly self-dye job the other day (to get rid of my grays, dont'cha knw); it's always a very dark chestnut for the first couple of days, and Hayley told me that now I look like Snow White. So I was a wee bit chuffed at that.

T. was very wonderful yesterday; he knew I was coming over after work and he cooked this amazing chicken/rice stir fry thingy and timed it exactly so it'd be ready when I walked through the door. And there was also "South Park" on TV and fantastic porn star sex! (Too much information, you say? Well, tough. This ain't the blog of the Flying Nun; I'll talk about "South Park" if I damn well please.)

Fatty is sticking closer to me than usual; I think she's a little bit worried about the irregular hours Mummy has been keeping. No matter when I come home, she's always waiting on the arm of the overstuffed-to-the-point-of-obesity chair, looking out the window. The funny thing is, my mother says that she only ever jumps up there about a minute before I get home, no matter when that is. My cat is psychic. ;-D

Here's what I like:

Friendlys' Boston Cream Pie ice cream

Here's what I hate:

Lou Dobbs' unhealthy obsession with illegal Mexican immigrants

That is all.
LinkWhat's your damage?

(no subject) [Sep. 22nd, 2005|07:10 pm]
[Tags|]
[mood | blank]
[ambiance |...S.D. - "Any World That I'm Welcome To"...]

Have any of you ever had one of those dreams where everyone in it is having sex, and you wake up and you're all disturbed and thinking: "DAMN, I'm freaky! Some of that shit isn't even legal!"

Just me? All righty then.

T. is sick; I'm going over there later to comfort him. I personally was sick on Monday and better the next day (kewl!), and my mother had the same thing and was only sick for about a week instead of her usual three weeks, so I'm hoping that he convalesces just as quickly.

He and I went over to this totally honky-tonk motel out on Route 1 near Freeport (actually, there really isn't any other kind of motel on Route 1) to look at kittens the other day. Tod had wanted, ideally, a very young male Maine Coon. So my mother has this student whose Coon cat got knocked up, and she had her kittens about a week ago. They were THE cutest little buggers ever; I'd never seen kittens that young in person before (we always get ours from shelters)!

Anyway, all of the kittens but one were black-and-white and female; the one male was both tiger-striped and totally adorable. Honestly, it really did seem serendipitous, it being right after he decided to start looking for his kitten, and the kitten being male and part Maine Coon. Also, he wanted a really young cat so he can raise it to be friends with Squeaks the Bunny (Adam's, nominally). The kitten won't be ready to leave its mother for at least another 3 weeks or so, and by then T. will have bought supplies, thought of a name, etc. - he's leaning towards "Dammit" right now, which is so typically Southern I can't even stand it.

Am currently working on his X-mas present; if he doesn't make a similar gesture for Christmas, he is going to have one very P.O.'d non-girlfriend.
Link1 Heather What's your damage?

(no subject) [Apr. 27th, 2005|08:16 am]
[Tags|, , ]

That idiotic Florida "Shoot First" bill has just been signed into law by Jeb Bush. Basically, if you think you're in danger from someone, you are now legally allowed to shoot them without first attempting to retreat. And yes, now you can shoot them in the back! Hooray!

This is obviously good news for the likes of Carl Hiaasen and Dave Barry; bad news for folks whose spouses don't want to lose their shirt in a divorce, or really for anyone with substantial assets and a valid will. Only conceivable upside to this fiasco is if someone uses it as an excuse to shoot that gubernatorial goober in his ample ass. ("Your Honor, I really did think that Governor Bush was going to sit on me!")

In other news, I seem to have lost my only child (Fat Mousie) to the demon weed. My mother has discovered a pattern in the second Stitch 'n' Bitch book for a yarn mouse that you fill with catnip. So she made a bunch and filled them with Big Budd's Catnip™ (it's like the crack cocaine of catnip) and now whenever I see my darling child, (or Bastet or Bunny), she is invariably in the process of kicking the living crap out of one of her new "moles".

We're running out of names for cat toys, though. Generally we name them after rodents ("Happy Fun Thing" and "Morty Gleckman" being notable exceptions); in the past couple of years we've had a Ferret, a Weasel, a Mink ("Minky"), and several small moles and voles. I think the next logical step is "Stoat", but after that? I refuse to have toys called shrikes or shrews. I mean to say, you have to draw the line somewhere.
Link1 Heather What's your damage?

Striking a blow for equality, I am... [Apr. 10th, 2005|04:40 am]
[Tags|, ]
[ambiance |...Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers - "Breakdown"...]

My cat, Bastet, reminds me of James Baldwin, or possibly Maya Angelou. She is black and very dignified; even in the midst of play she seems very solemn, as if she is playing to advance the cause of black cats everywhere.

As we all know, black cats are widely discriminated against; some bigoted people are reluctant to even cross their paths. I say that this discrimination based upon fur color must stop! Support your local chapter of ebony felines, for they are black panthers and they are proud!
Link1 Heather What's your damage?

Why are the times on this bleedin' thing always wrong? [Feb. 10th, 2005|10:14 pm]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | insomniac]

T.'s asleep upstairs, the lucky bastid. I, of course, have never been so awake, so I'm sitting here babbling to myself and doing laundry. When I finish my cocoa maybe I'll be in a more somnolent state and will go back up and snuggle with him.

(This is one of the myriad reasons why I will never cohabitate! I routinely wake up in the night and potter about and eat ice cream or something; most of my updates to this journal are done in the "wee small hours of the blah" - although in my experience most of the hours are fecking long, actually. Thank god the Internet never sleeps; I haven't gotten to the library this week, and thus have nothing else to read.)

The wee loud wuzzles of the morning are deeply alarmed by the man in my bed; well, they ought to be - I certainly never brought any of the boyfriends home. I may give the little boogers some catnip; it might not calm them down, but it would doubtless cheer them up, innit?

I have been pondering my semicolon addiction; I may need treatment for it. One in a paragraph is fine, but two each seems excessive. Help me, before I ; again! ;;; ; ;;;; ; ;;;;;;.

I think I'll go potter some more. Just call me Thomas Portarlington Travers...
LinkWhat's your damage?

'Tis the season... [Jan. 6th, 2005|02:10 am]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | wistful]
[ambiance |...Tori Amos - "Yes Anastasia"...]

It is literally freezing here in my garret - I can see my breath, and my hands are numb. Apparently the natural law (heat rising) does not apply to my house. Even most of my cats have found excuses not to sleep up here, saying that my insomnia is keeping them awake too, but I can see through their lies. Pussies.

It's probably just a "spoke in my menstrual cycle" (see "Heathers", below), but for the past couple of days I have been wanting actual non-physical male affection -atypical for me, ne? I suppose that if I wasn't so stubborn, I could return ¶'s "I miss you"s and build some deeper emotional attachment with him, but we all know what I'm (stupidly) holding out for. Because I am quixotic, and a total dick. Hopefully I will return to sanity once "Aunt Flo is standing on her head and throwing up", as Rachel used to say. Heh. And they say I'm uncouth...
LinkWhat's your damage?

Well, FARK. [Jan. 2nd, 2005|07:55 am]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | cross]
[ambiance |...something stoopit by Boston or Kansas...]

The Dad just called - apparently Nanna (my good and deserving grandmother) is in Portsmouth hospital w/ possible pneumonia. He will keep me posted, and I might go down on Tues. if she is not better. This concerns me, as she is rawther saintly.

I just bathed my fat Mouseling, who hath dandruff. She "Weee!"d at me piteously, but in vain, since not only did I shampoo her, I also rinsed and repeated! Truly Mummy is a fiend.

More news: my evil grandmother is once again making ominous threats about converting our garage into an apartment and moving in, which has sent my mother to bed in fits of crying and hysteria. Apparently, the E.G. never did actually sign the house over to us, so she can legally do what she likes.

Honestly, though, I wish I could figure out from whence my mother's "wimp" gene comes; instead of laying down the law (with a bit of flattery to soften the sting), she wants to act like a victim, which will just induce E.G. to trample on her all the more! M. is inconsolable; I am extremely pissed off, and my cat is damp and put out. Christ Almighty...
LinkWhat's your damage?

Long fecking car trips are shite. [Dec. 31st, 2004|08:06 am]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | blank]
[ambiance |...me cursing at the agent who just hung up on me...]

Both on the way there and on the way back, I've burst blood vessels in both eyes from driving for hours and hours and hours and Mother of GOD, it looks like I'm bleeding from my eyes! Bet the boyfriends'll love that...

Joyful reunion with the furry wuzzles last eve; all were unprecedentedly purry and sweet. I expect that by Sunday they'll have gone through all of the post-vacation stages: denial, hostility, voracious plant consumption, non-stop barfing, and acceptance, and by Monday they will be back to ennui. Cats are lovely, but rather predictable.

My new guitar's name is Roscoe (not sure why). He is acoustic. And my scanner's name is Merv.

Am working right now. On New Year's freakin' Eve (and on New Year's Day, too)! Since I have not been in town for the past week and ½, I've forgone the usual frantic scrambling for something insanely fun to do that generally accompanies said holiday, and thus am sort of blase about the whole thing - the first person who wants to do something, I'll probably hang with them, but I refuse to stress about it (it's tremendously liberating)!

Tod has just agreed to give me lessons for Roscoe - hooray! And my mother is going to knit me a nifty guitar strap.

That is all.
LinkWhat's your damage?

Fecking snow... [Dec. 8th, 2004|10:18 pm]
[Tags|, ]
[mood | absolutely freezing]
[ambiance |...The Cat Bastet, purring like a fiend...]

Had a demi-ice storm yesterday, which made commuting all higgledy-piggledy today and took out our electricity for the entire time that I was trying to get ready for work. Which meant that I couldn't wash my hair because the water was icy and the hairdryer was not an option. Which meant that I was more than a little cross; to me, there is absolutely nothing in the Western World that can top a good hair day. Shallow? Obviously. Also? Bite me.

Surrounded by fur up here in my garret; it is the proverbial "three cat night", and luckily I have exactly that many. Except that the Mouseling has annexed my best pillow and she looks so adorably roly-poly that I haven't the heart to move the little craphead. Plus, she would probably bite me, the pop-eyed little excrescence (pop Wodehouse quiz, [info]joo4u - re: the latter imprecation, who says it, and about whom?). Speaking of demon children, the Baby just knocked over my water on purpose. She likes to make things happen. I pray that she never discovers fireworks.

Frustrated with § as he is currently smitten by conscience and trying to be faithful to his girlfriend, which is not really something I have a vested interest in. Fortunately, the flesh is weak, and the cleavage-accentuating tops are many. I'll wear him down soon enough. Mwahahahahahahaha!!!
Link7 Heathers What's your damage?

navigation
[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]

Advertisement