A Rare Sighting of the Elusive Evil Momma

As the shadow of doom (me) looms over her, she prepares to spring.

Seriously, I wish I could just give her a Xanax and get her to chill. Relax, Momma! Ain't nobody gonna hurt you here.

Best. Thing. Ever.

I was reading this article about a cruise ship that sank in the Antarctic. As they were loading the passengers into the lifeboats, a couple broke out singing "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" by Monty Python.

hahahahahahahahaha!!!!!

That's the coolest thing ever.

Cowabunga!

I won a toy cow slingshot over at flea's world!! How cool is that?! I am a sucker for weird kid's toys, so Cowabunga will have a loving home at my place.

Oh, and Flea? I, um, I think I e-mailed you my address, but my computer did something funky just as I hit "send", so if you don't receive it, just let me know and I'll send it again. Because I really, really love that cow! And evidently I have yet to learn how to e-mail. Sigh.

Should I Stay or Should I Go

Yesterday afternoon, the boss called me into his office. He informed me that he was thinking of moving the business to South Carolina, and wanted to know if I would consider relocating.

Ummmmmmmm...... HELLS, YEAH!!

The winters here in upstate New York are killing me. The older I get, the tougher it seems to be to spend several MONTHS of every year scraping ice off windshields and shoveling snow and putting on several layers of clothing before stepping out the door .........

I'm tired of it. It used to be that the warm summers and beautiful autumns offset the miserable winter months, but anymore? Not so much.

And we are taxed to DEATH here in the great state of New York. Taxes just keep going up, and up, and up. It's like the state and local governments aren't even TRYING to control costs anymore ...... and we taxpayers are getting screwed.

Reasons to stay? Um ......... there really aren't any. Yes, my mom is here, but with her decline into Alzheimer's, she's not really here, if you know what I mean. Two of my sisters are here, but one of them, TIB, is convinced I am the Antichrist, and the other one, Ditzy, just isn't a factor.

So! If the boss says pack up, I'm packing. Now, he has run this particular scenario up the flagpole before and nothing ever came of it, and I'm sure that is probably the case this time, but if he asks me to go? I'm gone.

Payback's a Bitch

One last post about the fosters, and that's it for a while, cat-wise. Pinky swear!

So, I picked up the kittens from the vet's last night and headed home, where I was greeted by a shit-smelling apartment. Yep, Evil Momma had taken her revenge (for this) by pooping and barfing all over the place.

After getting the kittens settled (which was hysterical; I opened up the carrier and they exploded out like popcorn) (no, the carrier's not too small, it's just that they have LOTS of ENERGY) and cleaning up Evil Momma's mess, I was sitting in the bedroom playing with the kitties when Evil Momma sauntered in, all, "I pwned you this morning, bitch. Kiss my evil ass." And then she circled around behind me and started sniffing my back. And I froze. It was like in some scary movie when the alien creature is right behind someone, and the person knows it, and they freeze, hoping that if they just stay absolutely still the alien will go away. And then the alien rips their head off.

Seriously, I was all, like, "what is she sniffing at?! Is it my kidneys? Is she going to rip out my kidneys?!" But then she strolled off, and the threat was over. But several times through the evening, she got within a few feet of me, which is kind of amazing, considering she has spent the last week and a half trying to stay as far away from me as physically possible.

And then early this morning, I started hearing a familiar sound. A familiar yowling sound.

Yep, Evil Momma's in heat. And now she wants to loooooovvvee me. And be my frieennnnndd. She actually stood at my feet this morning and meowed up at me.

Who's pwned now, Evil Momma?!

Discovery!

The work day goes by MUCH FASTER when you show up two and a half hours late.

Oh, and in case you thought I was exaggerating about Evil Momma cat, I just looked down and discovered to my dismay that I did not completely get the blood off my pants. The blood that dripped off my face and onto my pants after Evil Momma clawed me.

Momma Said Knock You Out

If you want to liven up your morning, try getting a feral, nursing momma cat into a cat carrier.

Today the cats were supposed to go to the vet. Supposed to. The kittens got there. Momma cat kicked my ass.

I tried the gentle approach first. Coaxing, tuna (that's still a good idea, Bridgett), etc. Nope. She backed herself into the furthest corner under the bed. Please keep in mind that I have fostered these guys for a week and a half now and Momma has not yet let me pet her; not a good sign. So I shut the bedroom door and tried to nudge her out from under the bed with a broom, at which point the shit hit the fan. I think she hit every single spot in that bedroom except the carrier, moving at about 90 miles an hour. She was literally running up the walls trying to get away.

At one point I got close enough to try and throw a towel over her, which is when she lunged past me and scratched the shit out of my FACE in the process.

So! The babies are at the vet's being tested (feline leukemia, distemper, etc.), which should give us a pretty good idea of Momma's health, since whatever Momma has, she passes on to the kittens. If the kittens test ok, they will come back home with me and Evil Momma for another three weeks, at which point they will go back to the shelter to be adopted and Momma will go to the shelter to be spayed.

And the shelter workers are going to come to my home that day with NETS to get Momma. Just like on Animal Precinct!

You know, I feel sorry for Momma, I really do. She's just trying to make her way in a world she doesn't understand, and unless she calms down after being spayed, her chances of adoption are very small.

But! There's always hope. Here's hoping.

What am I, the freaking MAID???

....... that's what I was mumbling to myself yesterday morning, as the kittens frolicked around me while I scrubbed their poop off the carpet. They need to acquire some mad litterbox skillz, STAT!

Oh, and the worker from the first shelter called me on Saturday to see if I could foster, and I had to break the news that since she hadn't gotten back to me after I fostered Momma and Baby, I had gone on the active list for the second shelter and was now doing a foster for them. She was very nice about it, but I still felt awful. Because I am two-timing the local shelters. In all fairness, I actually signed up for shelter #2 first, and when they didn't have a foster assignment for me, I signed up for shelter #1 (are you confused yet?) and did my first foster for them. I am an equal-opportunity two-timer.

In other news, Baby is now a celebrity. She was featured on an adoption segment on the local news last Wednesday. Unfortunately, she is STILL at the adoption center. They had a lot of calls about her, but no one met the adoption criteria. One family wanted to declaw her (NO - the shelter feels as strongly about this as I do), another woman did not drive and would not be able to take Baby to the vet, etc., etc.

So I went to visit Baby at the adoption center yesterday, and we had a high old time. It's just a shame that she hasn't found a new home yet.

Momma has been spayed (thank GOD - she wasn't fun to be around when she was in heat, to put it mildly) and is at the shelter waiting for adoption.

You know, it makes me feel bad that these guys haven't been adopted yet, and that they have to wait in cages for new homes after spending two months with me. But at least they got two months away from the shelter in a home environment. I'm just sort of conflicted about the whole thing right now. I mean, I really think I'm helping these mommas and kittens out; it's just hard when they have to go back. Sigh.

More Blurt

Hair
I didn't bother styling my hair this morning, and consequently I look like some poorly-drawn cartoon character.

Catnip
In an attempt to connect with Momma cat, I made a catnip pillow and tentatively (lest I lose a hand) pushed it toward her under the bed. At first she ignored it, but within a few minutes she was ripping into that thing like a lion tearing into an antelope. Maybe she was pretending it was me.

Oh, and Momma has a white tip on the end of her tail. I've had these fosters for a week now, and last night was the first time she revealed enough of herself for me to see the tip of her tail. Sigh.

Squash
Squash is one of those foods that taste totally disgusting, but in such a mild way that it's hard to get too pissed off about it. See also: Zucchini, Sweet Potatoes.

The Long Walk
So, watching "The Mist" got me thinking about my favorite Stephen King book. Which has to be "The Long Walk", hands down. Now technically I think it's a novella, and I think he wrote it under Richard Bachman. Oh, here it is. And this is not a "horror" novel (King's usual genre), so don't be put off by that. Second-favorite Stephen King? "The Stand".

Recently Seen
Sign by the side of the road: "Welders for Sale. Inquire Within." Hmmmmm........

Ramblin' On
I've got to stop posting these random, meandering entries. I'm starting to sound like Andy Rooney. Or Seinfeld. Or just a poorly written, ill-constructed blog. Heh.

I won!!! I WON!!!!!!

I won a Zune in a contest over at Confessions of a Pioneer Woman! There were over 10,000 entries and two winners, and I'm one of them! Woot!

See, here's the thing. I never win anything. Nada. And it's so funny, but I was actually thinking on my way to work this morning, "I wonder if I won the Zune contest?" And then I was all, like, "Why are you even thinking that? Why did it even cross your mind? You never win anything! And, plus, there's probably, like, ten thousand entries. What are the odds?"

As it turns out, the odds were very, very good.

I WON!!!!!!!!!!!!

Thanks, Pioneer Woman!

Oh, so then, I was trying to e-mail my contact info to her, and I was using Yahoo mail, which I almost never use, and I kept trying to "tab", which as it turns out is actually "send" in Yahoo mail, and ......... yeah ........... you get the picture. I sent the Pioneer Woman like twenty e-mails, accidently. Oooops!

The Blurt

Yum-MAY!
I picked wild strawberries out of the side yard to have with my ice cream last night. Hello, summer! Unfortunately, I then had to turn on the furnace. Because, hello, fifty degrees!

America's Got Talent
I know, I KNOW, I just caught a teeny portion whilst flipping channels, honest! Although I am not ashamed to admit that I may be watching vast swathes of this show later in the summer, because reruns of "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" get kind of tiresome after a while, although I am eagerly awaiting the "very special episode" when Jon pisses off Kate one time too many and she guts him like a fish.

OK, so back to the talent show. They had a couple of guys playing the violin, and all I could think of was that song from the movie 1776, "He Plays the Violin". I will admit to having a girl crush on Blythe Danner in that movie. Oh, and that movie! I loved that movie! Oh, and that song, Momma Look Sharp: "Momma, hey momma, come lookin' for me"....... (SOB). Sorry. If you've never seen it, you have NO IDEA what I'm talking about here.

Momma Cat
Momma is now giving me a baleful stink-eye, as opposed to cowering in abject terror, whenever I peer underneath the bed to talk to her. Progress?

Baby Cats
One of them made it almost to the top of the scratching post last night. Another developmental milestone!

FAIL!
My doctor called yesterday - I flunked the bone density test. The easiest test in the entire world, and I flunked it. The good news is, instead of going to summer school, I just have to double up on my calcium.

"God! I think they're attracted to the light!"
Really?! Really?! Thanks, Einstein! They are GIANT INSECTS, after all!

I watched "The Mist" last night. If you haven't seen it yet, please do. I enjoyed the shit out of this movie. (Don't worry: No spoilers ahead. And please don't leave any spoilers in the comments; my other reader (heh) may not have seen it yet.) Even though the special effects were sometimes laughable and the plot had more holes than swiss cheese, I found this movie oddly compelling. I just couldn't stop watching. It was based on an old short story by Stephen King, back when he could actually write a damn fine story instead of going over the same boring ground (famous author in peril! Oh noes!) over and over again.

ANYWAY! Even if you don't like it, although I think you will, please, please stick with it till the end. The ending of this movie will kick your butt. Seriously. Must see. I can't remember the last time the ending of a movie ......... ok, stopping there. Watch it. Trust me.

SO! That's what's going on in my neck of the woods. What's up with you?

Oh. Mah. Gah.

During my lunch time yesterday, I got into a fight with a K-Mart cashier. Awesome!

Dear Marge at the Binghamton K-Mart:

The sales flyer said the shampoo was "Buy One Get One Free". It did not say "Buy One Get One Half Off". I know that that's the way it rang up, but did you really have to get all pissy when I pointed out the mistake? There was a time when I would have let it slide, but now that the economy has basically screwed the pooch, I can't afford to let it slide anymore.

Because there was a line of people behind me, I asked you to please just ring me up, so that I could go to customer service and get it straightened out. BUT NO. You insisted that you had to go to the pharmacy counter (WTF? It wasn't prescription shampoo, just plain ol' L'Oreal) to get a price check.

Then you came back from the pharmacy (WTF?) and said that I had purchased the wrong shampoo. I showed you the sales flyer, which pictured the exact shampoo I had purchased, in the size and style I had purchased, undermeath the header "Buy One Get One Free". Then you gave me an eye-roll and a heavy sigh, and said you'd have to get a manager. Oh sweet baby jeezus. I took this opportunity to apologize to the people in line behind me.

Oh, and the reason I took the sales flyer with me to the store? It's because this crap happens all the freaking time at K-Mart. You need to take the flyer with you, so that when stuff rings up wrong, you can show them the price as advertised in the flyer. This is why I almost never shop at K-Mart. After this latest go-round, make it, "This is why I never shop at K-Mart".

So! You came back with the manager, who took a look at the flyer, got out her little key, and overrode the computer so that I would get the correct, advertised price, i.e., "Buy One Get One Fucking Free, Marge, you pissy old bitch."

Now. I know it was not your fault the computer rang it up wrong. But I also know that it was not necessary to give me a metric ton of shit when I pointed it out. I was polite throughout this whole unpleasant encounter. You were not. And as I was leaving, I heard you start to bitch at the lady in line behind me because the pair of shoes she was purchasing did not have a valid UPC code.

Marge, Marge, Marge. I know you've been working at K-Mart forever, and I know it must suck to be ninety-five and still be wearing a K-Mart smock. But when you took the flyer I had showed you to point out the sale price and crumpled it up and threw it on the floor, then shoved my receipt at me, I kind of lost any sympathy I had for you.

Oh, and that receipt you shoved at me? It had a computerized note on the bottom stating "K-Mart Values Your Feedback", asking me to visit their website and "tell us about your experience".

Ohhhhh, you betcha, Marge. I told them allllll about my experience. Several paragraphs worth, actually.

Oh, and to all those people in line behind me? Let me apologize once again. I'm really, really sorry. I know you were all standing there cursing me out in your head, and I totally understand.

Meet the New Kids!

Since Momma has declined to hide them in a secret undisclosed location, the kittens have been hanging out in the carrier while Momma hides under the bed. Momma is wild (as in "feral", not as in "let's party"), and for some reason she shows little interest in the babies other than to nurse them (thank God for that) and clean them. She also comes out to eat, drink, and use the litterbox, but other than that, it's Underbed City for Momma. So I took the door off the carrier, and that's where the babies prefer to hang out.

And yes, I am a little worried, especially since I have to take them for a vet visit later this week, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get Momma out from under that bed. She's one bad ass cat, and I'd hate to lose a hand or something in the process. I guess I'll just keep spending lots of quality time in the bedroom (heh), playing with the kittens and peering under the bed trying to connect with Momma.

But! Kittens! Adorable kitttens! The shelter volunteer said they were four to five weeks, but judging by their size and crawling-around skills (or lack thereof), I'd put them at closer to three-and-a-half weeks. And they are extremely friendly and show no fear of me whatsoever, which is very cool. Very often when I peek into the carrier to see how they're doing (most of the time they're sleeping all piled up together), one of them will open up its eyes, see me, and come tumbling out, and then the others are like, "hey look! the human!" and they all come out to play.

Good times!

Beep.........beep............beep............

That's the sound of the kitten truck backing up!

I am going to the shelter after work tonight to pick up a Momma cat and her four kittens. The babies are approximately 4 - 5 weeks old, so it's gonna be nice and lively around my place!

Wish me luck!

Juno

So I finally got around to watching "Juno" the other night, long after everybody else in the free world had already seen it.

Meh.

I mean, it was alright, it was funny and touching and blah blah blah, but I just didn't think it was the BEST MOVIE EVER, like a lot of other people seem to think.

It's kind of like when Napoleon (sp?) Dynamite came out, and everybody was raving about it and quoting chunks of dialogue and the whole nine yards, and I went and saw it and just thought, well, that was ok.

Is it just me? Did anybody else see Juno and go, "meh"? Are there movies that you don't like that everybody else loves? Please, let me know!

Hot Damn!

I took my car to the skeevy part of town yesterday to get the broken AC looked at. (Why are radiator/AC shops always in the skeevy part of town?)

Diagnosis? There was a loose connection to the unit, and the system needed a recharge.

Cost? Twenty bucks!*

Suh-weeeeet!



*I tried to slip the guy an extra five, and he wouldn't take it. He told me to put it in the gas tank. I think I want to marry him.

Jeezus CHRIST!

So! I got home from work yesterday, and I went to remove the screens from the living room windows so I could close the windows and turn on the AC. (There are no foster cats in the house right now; otherwise OF COURSE I would leave the AC on all day.) I reached for one of the window screens to remove it, and

there was a fucking BAT staring back at me with its beady little fucking eyes. It was on the outside of the screen and and had wedged itself, upside down, up into the corner of the outside window jamb. I saw that bat, and I lost. my. shit.

Now, some of you may be wondering if I exaggerate the events of my life for entertainment value here on my blog.

Um ......... no. I actually TAME STUFF DOWN for the blog. About thirty percent of the bizarre crap that happens to me on a daily basis never even makes it here, mostly due to time constraints. I have been going through some ....... stuff right now that I haven't been discussing here, in addition to everything I HAVE been discussing here. Basically, my life is nuts, despite my best efforts to CALM THINGS DOWN ALREADY. So, when I saw that FUCKING bat ........

oh hell no. Noooooooooooo!

Now, I have not always been anti-bat. There are lots of bats in my neighborhood, and I used to enjoy watching them swoop through the night air. I'd throw popcorn off the deck, just to watch them dive down to investigate. I've had a few get into my apartment over the years, and I'd just open all the windows and the door, turn off the light, and go back to sleep. They'd always be gone in the morning.

But then one day I went into the shed, and there was a bat roosting on the ceiling light fixture. I went to get a closer look, and that bat opened up its beady eyes, curled his lip so I could see all his pointy little bat teeth, and fucking hissed at me. I do not know if you have ever seen a bat up close, but they are ugly little fuckers (wow, do you think I'm using the f-word enough here? Maybe I should throw in a few more.) And ever since that little bastard hissed at me, I have not been a bat fan. Call it a visceral reaction.

Oh, and all bats are "he"s. That's right, they're all MEN. There are no girl bats. FACT. (not)

So, extremely long story short, I got a cake slicer (hey! That's what was lying around!) and poked at the bat and he flew away. But when it came to the moment of truth, when it was time to actually POKE THE BAT? Oh dear God, honestly, I just wanted to fall into a quivering heap on my living room floor. I DID NOT WANT to have to poke that bat. I'm shuddering just writing this here.

Oh! So then, of course, I wondered if my Frankenfoot was caused by a bat bite. And now I have rabies and am going to foam at the mouth and die! Because that bat was roosting outside in broad daylight and folks, that just ain't right. But then I was talking to my sister Texas last night, and she reassured me that no, it was not a bat bite, it was probably a brown recluse or black widow spider bite, and I might want to go to the doctor because people die from that stuff, you know!

Thanks, sis.

My Left Fooooooooot

Oh my fucking GOD, you should see my fooooot! Waaaa! I'm calling it Frankenfoot. Seriously, it looks like someone took a baseball bat to my foot. The ball of the foot is swollen to at least twice its normal size, and the side of the foot is all different shades of black and blue and purple and red. I have pictures! I can prove it! I was going to post one here, until I realized that looking at the pictures MYSELF was making me kinda pukey-feeling, and I don't want to gross anybody else out unnecessarily.

So! Here's a pretty peony:

And below is a picture of the booth next to mine at Saturday's festival. This dude, who looked like freaking Quasimodo, was selling "redneck wind chimes" ( beer cans hung from a piece of wood (how hilarious!)) and "rubber band shooters" (pieces of PVC pipe screwed together (how quaint!)), and HE DID MORE BUSINESS THAN I DID. (Waaaay more, seeing as how I sold nothing.) Sigh.

By the end of the day, I wanted to take that flippin' ET and stomp on it until it exploded. Because look! He totally looks like he's giving me the finger (look at the left hand)!

But! Back to my foot! Because this is MY BLOG, dammit, and I'll talk about my Frankenfoot if I want to!

I tend to be a little, um, dramatic (REALLY?!!), so when my foot first turned black and blue FOR NO REASON, I was all, "oh noes, maybe it's that flesh-eating disease and the black and blue will start to spread and the doctors will have to TAKE OFF MY FOOT and then I'll be an amputee and waaaaaaaa......"

And then I remember what my Mom used to say to me when I was a kid and became convinced that I was dying of whatever dread disease was on that week's episode of "Emergency!". She'd say, "If you actually HAD (insert dread disease here), you'd KNOW it." In other words, cut it, little drama queen.

So! I guess I'm going to live. But my question is, WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY FOOT?? I went to bed Sunday night and it was fine. I woke up Monday morning and my foot was grievously injured. I DID NOT overindulge in alcohol this weekend, so it's not like I took a baseball bat to my own foot in a drunken stupor. And if I had gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered if I had somehow stumbled against/over something hard enough to leave a gigantic BRUISE and copious swelling.

Anybody got any ideas?

Recently Read

Oh, this is gonna be a long list. I'm mostly just putting this up here to keep track of my reading, so feel free to skip it.

Cruddy by Lynda Barry - An illustrated novel about a girl with the most brutal childhood imaginable. Horrifying, but an incredibly good read.

A Day No Pigs Would Die by Robert Newton Peck - Technically a kid's book, but I really enjoyed it! Heh.

Skels by Magge Dubris - Fact-based novel about an EMT in NYC in the 70s - interesting.

The Children of Santa Clara by Elizabeth Marek - Nonfiction - About a young woman who works for a year at a treatment center for disturbed children - good.

My Life in Orange by Tim Guest - Nonfiction - Memoir about a kid growing up in a cult - it got good reviews, but I found it boring and didn't finish it.

The Women Who Raised Me by Victoria Rowell - Nonfiction - Let's face it, I just picked this one up because she played Dru on Y&R - Memoir about her upbringing in foster care - This started out interesting, but I lost interest once she grew up and quit about 20 pages from the end.

Charity Girl by Michael Lowenthal - Novel about a woman sent to a camp for "bad girls" during World War I - Based in fact - good.

The Girl Who Stopped Swimming by Joshilyn Jackson - About the aftermath of a girl's death - very good - I really enjoyed this one.

Hope's Boy by Andrew Bridge - Nonfiction - About a boy in the foster care system. Interesting, but sad.

A Lesson Before Dying by Ernest J. Gaines - I thought I had read this one before, but I hadn't. About race relations in the South in the 40s - very good.

A Snowflake in My Hand by Samantha Mooney - Nonfiction about a woman who works in a vet clinic and the terminal cancer cats she cared for - It may have been a little too soon for me to read this one. I found it sad, but good.

Looking for Salvation at the Dairy Queen by Susan Gregg Gilmore - About a preacher's daughter trying to make her own way. Enjoyable.

From Our House by Lee Martin - Memoir of growing up with a disabled, violent father. Interesting.

Three Little Words by Ashley Rhodes-Courter - Memoir about growing up in foster care - interesting. I'm starting to think I'm reading too many foster care stories right about now.

Stop-Time by Frank Conroy - Memoir. This was highly praised, and I found it interesting, but this guy has a chip on his shoulder the size of a boulder about his teenage years. Maybe deservedly so, but still.

Summer of Night by Dan Simmons - Oh! I really wanted to read this one, as it came highly recommended, but the print was so damn small that even with my reading glasses on, I would get a headache after just a few pages. Damn this aging process!

The Tender Land by Kathleen Finneran - About the recovery of a family after their teenage son kills himself. Depressing as all hell (understandably so).

The Known World by Edward Jones - Pulitzer-prize winning novel about slavery after the Civil War. It was okay.

The Lemon Jelly Cake by Madeline Smith - Novel about a small town in the early 1900s. Corny as all get out, but still a light, fun read.

SO! That's what I've been reading over the past couple of months. How about you?

Random Weekend Stuff

I sat in the sun, in 92-degree heat, for five hours on Saturday at the festival and did not sell one blessed photograph. Throwing in the towel, I am.

On the plus side, I put up a poster with Momma and Baby and their adoption info, and that drew lots of interest. More interest than my photos did. Ha!

My peonies are blooming! Likewise the iris, and the poppies, and the columbine. I think the heat prompted everything to pop at once.

My mother's cat, Tinker, passed away. He was 15. My mom (who has Alzheimer's) informed me that my sister TIB killed him. Possible? Oh yes. Likely? Not very. (Oh, and Listie, if you're reading, we went to Pete's Legacy Diner on Old Vestal Road on Sunday. Do you ever go there? Hint: avoid the Greek omelet. Also, see the comments down below in the Kool-Aid Pie post for the location of the Parkway Diner.)

I woke up this morning with a huge bruise on the bottom of my foot. You'd think an incident that could inspire such a bruise would be memorable, but I have no idea how I got that bruise. Whaaaa?

Oh, and the AC in the car conked out yesterday. Don't ever buy a Saturn .......

The Mere Sound of My Name Makes People Swear

The other day at lunchtime I dropped off my wool winter coat at the dry cleaners. Procrastinating, you say? Not really. Because you don't want to dry clean your winter stuff until it stops snowing, and around here? If you want to be safe, you'd darn well better wait until June.

So, this place is run by Koreans. And the gal who usually works the counter was pressing clothes, so this other dude came up to the counter to help me. And he started filling out the ticket, and he asked for my last name.

Now, my last name is a very common, six-letter last name. And I said it to him, and he turned around and said something to the girl in Korean. First he said my last name, and then evidently, he said, "how do you spell that?", because she said the first letter, said the second letter, and then snapped. She went off on this guy in a torrent of Korean, and I am guessing by the tone and the volume that lots of swearing was involved. Then she stomped off.

So the guy turns back to me, with a kind of resigned look on his face, like this happens all the time. And I spelled my last name for him, and he gave me my ticket, and I left.

I mean, WTF?! The only thing I can think of is that my last name (which, incidentally, is a very anglo last name, along the lines of "Smith" or "Jones") is actually a swear word in Korean. Like, maybe my name means something like "motherf**ker" in Korean, and she got two letters into spelling it out, realized what she was spelling, thought the dude was playing a trick on her, and got pissed off.

That's all I can come up with, anyway.

And if my name actually does mean "motherf**ker" in Korean, that's pretty funny.

NOW You Tell Me!?

I PROMISE that this blog is not going to be all foster cats, all the time, but first ....... I need to get this off my chest.

A little background: When I first starting looking into the whole foster care process, I went to the local shelter and filled out a several-page application. Then, one of the workers explained the process to me. She said that there were four main situations when they needed foster care-ers:

1. Orphaned kittens who needed to be bottle-fed.
2. Non-orphaned kittens who needed to stay with their mothers until they were weaned and old enough to be adopted.
3. Cats who were recovering from illness or surgery and needed a quiet place to stay.
4. Cats who were at the end of their lives and needed a place to, well, pass away, in a non-shelter setting.

And she asked which I would be interested in. And I said, well, everything but the last situation. I explained that Rocky, my beloved cat companion of fifteen years, had passed away just a few months before, and I did not feel ready to go through that again. And she said, fine, we'll start you with kittens!

SO! Flash-forward to this morning, when I returned Momma and Baby to the shelter after their two month stay with me. I took them in and put them in their carrier on the counter. This is the conversation that followed:

Shelter worker: "Wow! I can't believe how good they look! They're so big! We didn't think they'd make it, you know."

Me: "Whaaaaa?"

Shelter worker: "Yeah, the night they came in (note: this would be the night before the day they called me and asked me to come pick them up THAT DAY), the kitten was so tiny, and the mother was so malnourished, we really didn't think they had much of a chance."

Me: ---------

Seriously? After I had specifically explained that I was not ready to face any "end-of-life issues", they sent me home with two cats whom they thought were about to drop dead.

Now granted, all's well that ends well, but still.

I Did Not Cry .....

.... and I don't know whether I should feel proud of myself, or ashamed.

Going .......... Going ...............

'

Momma and Baby are going back to the shelter in the morning to find their new homes. Unless, of course, someone here in local Blogland (i.e., upstate New York) would like to add a coupla cool cats to their household. Just thought I'd give you guys first crack at it .....

'

(and no, by the way, for those of you who may just be stopping by, I am not giving away my own cats. I do foster work for local animal shelters; I am just a temporary home for cats who need one. Then they go back to the shelter so they can be adopted into permanent homes. Just wanted to make that clear!)

Slow News Day

One of the headlines on the Yahoo home page yesterday was "Jewel has bizarre dream about Bob Dylan."

I wonder if anyone other than Jewel (and possibly Bob Dylan, though somehow I kind of doubt he checks Yahoo) clicked on that link.

Rich and Famous

First off, let me say this: I am glad that they were able to operate on Ted Kennedy's brain tumor. I hope he makes a full recovery, or at the least is able to enjoy a longer life span than he would have otherwise.

That being said, I was at the hospital yesterday for tests (just routine stuff*), and I was in the waiting room watching CNN, and they were talking about his surgery.

And I was confused, because I did not think that his type of tumor was operable, but evidently they decided to go for it. And then I wondered who got bumped down on the surgery list because a *Kennedy* needed surgery pronto.

And then I found her.

I mean, I know, technically, it wasn't her, specifically. But still. And this stuff happens every single day in this country. Don't tell me that the system isn't fucked up, because it is. Big time.



*I love, love, love bone density tests. You get to lay down for them! And they're totally painless! Why can't all tests be that way?

Kool-Aid Pie

So! I tried kool-aid pie over the weekend, and it was just ........ yuck. Just wrong on so many levels. I mean, the concept sounded innocuous enough - cool whip, condensed milk, and kool-aid for flavor, in a graham cracker crust. There's not much that a graham cracker crust can't make good. But this pie just tasted blech. Nuff said.

But! I have made a new food discovery, and I am in love. I took my Mom out for lunch at a local diner (oh diners! how I love you!) a few weeks back, and they had a Monte Cristo sandwich on the menu. I had never heard of this before (I don't get out much, obviously), and so I ordered one (because that's how I roll. Never heard of it? Order it! Heh.) and oh my it was the best sandwich I'd had in a long time. Now I make them at home all the time.

Now, this is a sandwich where, if you just look at the ingredient list, you're all, ewwww. But trust me, this is one fine sandwich. Here's how you make one (not that you asked, of course): Make some french toast, or buy some frozen french toast and heat it up if you're that fricken' lazy. Take some thin-sliced ham, and some thin-sliced turkey or chicken, and layer it on top of the french toast. Put some swiss cheese on top (I use smoked swiss, because it is gooooood), and nuke it in the microwave until the cheese is gooey. Folks, I swear, it's better than ..... well, insert your particular favorite vice here.

Oh! And because I don't get out much, I had quesadillas fajitas* whatever those folded-over Mexican thingies are for the first time the other weekend. I don't normally like Mexican food (beans and rice = gross), but those suckers were just chicken and onions and green peppers and salsa in fajita shells, and yum!

So! Has anybody else tried any great new foods lately? Or any terrible new foods? (Kool-aid pie, anyone?)



*The power of strikethrough compels you. Heh.

Shhhhh!!! Baby's Sleeping!

I promise that I have lots of stuff to talk about. Jack-in-the-pulpits! Snakes! Kool-aid pie!(which ohmyGod is so disgusting.) "The Family Stone"! (I wanted to like it, but I can't stand Dianne Keaton. Or Sarah Jessica Parker. Yuck.) Bone density tests! But, for now, here are some gratuitous cute kitten pics:










When Baby sleeps, she sleeps hard.