"How Cold Is It?", You Ask

It's so cold that on Saturday, for the first time since 2005, the Almost-Annual NYS Crappie Derby will be held at the Whitney Point Reservoir.

You see, the Crappie Derby is an ice-fishing tournament, and because they get around a thousand people attending, the organizers insist on at least twelve inches of ice on the lake. It's been four years since the last time there was enough ice on the lake to hold the derby. But all is well in Whitney Point, because there's PLENTY of ice this year.

And I'm not even gonna talk about the six to twelve inches of snow expected tonight and tomorrow. Jeezus, get me on a plane out of here, someone!


Oh, and what's a Crappie, you ask? Around these parts, it's pronounced "croppie", I assume so that newscasters don't split their pants every time they have to say it on air, and it's ...... a fish. I'm pretty sure it's a fish, anyway. Kind of like a sunfish. I think.

Letters and Numbers

W-2
W-3
FUTA
IRS 941
NYS 45

January, I hate you.

Good Cop/Bad Cop

I have to go to the dentist later this week for a six-month check-up and cleaning. Per usual, my teeth are already starting to ache.

You see, my dentist and her hygienists follow a "good cop/bad cop" routine, except it's more like, "good visit/bad visit". On one visit, all will go fine. No problems, no catastrophes, everything looks fine, see you in six months. And on the next visit, it's all, "Oh NOES, you have pockets! And that could lead to periodontal disease! And what the hell is this ......... SOUND THE ALARM!! Ah-OOO-ga!! Ah-OOO-ga!!"

My last visit was a "good" visit. Which means I have to steel myself for gloom and doom on this upcoming visit. But! I am learning. I'm wise to their tactics. When they start in with their "your-teeth-will-all-fall-out-if-you-don't-give-us-two-grand-RIGHT-NOW" routine, I just say, "you know what? I'm kind of short on disposable income just now. Let's wait for the NEXT visit and see how things look then."

And by the next visit? Surprise! All is well in tooth land. Sheesh.

Winter Sunrise

I took this pic off my back deck on a January morning two years ago. For all I know, the summer sunrises could be equally as beautiful; I just try very, very hard not to be up at dawn in June.

Movie Reviews - "Cat Dancers" and "Hancock"

"Cat Dancers" is a documentary about a big-cat act, the type seen in Vegas. And I found it absolutely fascinating. I really don't know how to go into details without giving stuff away, but it's just really, really interesting. It's showing on HBO right now, if you want to catch it.


I felt the same way about "Hancock" that a lot of other reviewers did - the beginning is great; the ending not so much. But the first hour is really entertaining. And I will watch anything Will Smith is in, mainly because of that scene in "I Am Legend" where he is doing chin-ups with his shirt off, and .............. oh, never mind. So I highly recommend the first hour of "Hancock", and it's only ninety minutes long, so I guess that's a two-thirds positive review.

........ and non-believers.

In President Obama's inauguration speech on Tuesday, he said, "We are a nation of Christians and Muslims, Jews and Hindus - and non-believers."

Now, I don't know if he wrote that line, or if it was one of his speechwriters, but I would like to thank whoever wrote it for including "non-believers".

Because I am a non-believer.

I was raised a Presbyterian, and I was quite active in the church when I was a teenager. I was married in the church. But some time after high school, in my late teens, I just .... stopped attending every Sunday. I don't remember why; I certainly wasn't a "non-believer" at that point. And eventually, in my thirties, I started thinking a bit more about religion. And wondering what, exactly, I did believe.

I'm sometimes a little fuzzy on what I do believe, but I now know what I don't believe: I don't believe in God. I can't. I've tried. I wish I believed in God; I imagine it could be enormous comfort to me at times. But I don't believe in God, any more than I believe in Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy. I believe that God was made up, and the Bible was written, to keep people in line. No more and no less. To ensure that people would stay on the straight and narrow, because "God'll get ya for that" if you don't.

So thank you, President Obama, for including "non-believers" in your speech. Although actually, if you had decided to include everybody, it would have been a much longer speech. ".... Jews and Hindus, Rastafarians and Janeists, Wiccans and Methodists and Sun God Worshippers and ..... "

Thanks for keeping it short. And thanks for including me.

Mean Streak

Watching the inauguration yesterday, when they showed Dick Cheney in a wheelchair with a cane across his lap, all I could think of was that old Saturday Night Live skit of the supposed "alternate ending" to It's a Wonderful Life, where George Bailey and an angry mob of townspeople stormed Mr. Potter's house, dumped him out of his wheelchair, and kicked the living daylights out of him.

And I wasn't alone; some of my co-workers were snickering about how the White House aides should just eschew the wheelchair ramp, find a nice long set of stairs, and give the chair a little nudge.

Gosh, we're mean.

Well, Day-um

It looks like I'm not going to get the house I put an offer on. The first buyer finally came through with financing, which knocks me out of the picture.


But! It's okay. My realtor told me to take heart, that they will find the right house for me. And like Bridgett said, down the road, when I find the perfect place, I will be very glad that I didn't get this one. You'd better be right about that, Bridgett!! (kidding!)

Hell, I didn't want to have to move in the middle of winter, anyway.

Chin up!

Congratulations, President Obama!

Heeeee, I just love typing that - "President Obama".

Yeah, you screwed up the Oath of Office, but is okay - even Michelle got a chuckle out of that one. You rocked your speech, and now it's time to get to work.

Good luck! I'm rooting for you!

Am I the Only One Thinking,

"....... geez, I sure hope he doesn't end up with a bullet in his head."

It's AWFUL, I know, and I feel horrible for even THINKING it, but if there's anybody in the world with a bigger target on his back right now, I don't know who it is, except maybe Osama bin Laden.

So there it is, I blurted it out, and I am hoping that all the security will protect him and his family today and always. I can't imagine what it must be like to know that you are a target. That people literally want to kill you. And that sometimes, they succeed.

Best of luck, Mr. President-Elect. And stay safe.

Cabin Fever

Now that it's cold out and the ground is snow-covered, the cats are not spending nearly as much time outside. They'll go out for a few minutes, then come charging right back in. Snoozing occupies some of their time:

But pretty soon, boredom sets in. One of them will pounce on the other, and they're off to the races.

Bif! Pow! Bam! They like to try and bowl each other over. And while Little Girl is smaller than The Runt, she still manages to hold her own in the butt-whupping department:

After a while, though, they're tired and ready to kiss and make up.

Until next time, that is.

Ur Doin It Rong

My sister, Texas, sent me a beautiful watch for Christmas (among other things) (Thanks, Texas!). The only problem was that I couldn't work the clasp, which was one of those that requires a small piece to be held open while threading it through another piece. I couldn't do it one-handed, and the cats don't have opposable thumbs, so they couldn't help me out.


So I took the beautiful watch to a local jewelry-repair place, to see if they could put on a different kind of fastener. And the jewelry-repair guy, who was actually kind of creepy, not that that has anything to do with anything, asked me to attempt to put on the watch, so he could see where the problem was.


I flopped my right hand down on the display counter, wrapped the watch around my right wrist with my left hand, and tried to fasten the clasp. And tried. And tried. And finally the guy said, "Wait a minute. Are you right-handed or left-handed?" And I said, "right-handed". And he said, "You're right-handed, and you wear your watch on your right wrist? Why?" And I said, "Because I've always worn my watch on the right wrist!" And he was all, "Well, that's unusual! You're supposed to wear your watch on your non-dominant hand." But he was nice about my apparent deformity, and we tried a different clasp, which I still couldn't fasten, and right now the watch is at the jewelry-repair place while he tries to find a clasp that I can actually use.


Here's the thing: Am I doing it wrong? Because honestly, I can't imagine wearing a watch on my left wrist. When I look down, I look to the right, so the watch goes on my right wrist. Am I strange?

I Just Keep Reminding Myself ........

...... that Spring will come.

It's Stuff Like This That Drives Me Crazy

The other day, The Bloggess was talking about how dogs don't have bellybuttons. (I was going to link to the post, but I'm fairly certain that The Bloggess doesn't need any linkie-love help from me.)


And then I got thinking, hey, wait a minute, my cats don't have bellybuttons either. And then I thought, well, maybe they do, but I just can't see them because of the whole fur thing. And then I thought, no, they shaved Little Girl's stomach when they spayed her, and I'm certain I didn't see any bellybutton when I removed her stitches.


And then I was all, like, why don't dogs and cats have bellybuttons? Whhhyyyyyyy?


So I went to ask.com, and according to commenters on varous sites, dogs and cats DO have bellybuttons; they're just not as obvious as ours, and harder to see.


And I am hoping against hope that I will not get bored enough to start searching my cats for their bellybuttons tonight, but given the bored-ness level around my place lately, which alternates with moments of sheer terror regarding a possible house purchase, I really can't rule anything out.

Eight Below

That's what it was on my back deck this morning. At least, according to the digital thermometer. The old mercury thermometer was reading minus twelve.

F*ck a duck, it's cold outside!

Waiting

Waiting to see if the original buyer's offer holds up. (Doesn't look likely; he's had, like, sixty days now and still can't come up with financing.)

Waiting to see if the seller will accept my first offer. (Also not likely; the original buyer's offer was for full purchase price, and I'm coming in at twenty percent less than that.)

Waiting to see if the seller is willing to drop his price. (Possible, but not likely; the house had only been on the market for a few weeks when he got the first offer for full purchase price.)

I've already decided I'm not going to offer full purchase price. Not on this property. But now, of course, I'm second-guessing myself, and thinking, "maybe I should put in an offer for full purchase price", and then I'm all like, "No! Think of all the trees that will have to be removed! Think of the one bedroom! Think of the one closet!"

Man. I'm really battling with myself over here.

Scared Shitless

I put an offer on a house this morning. I lowballed it, leaving room to negotiate, but an offer has indeed been made. And now all I can think of is, "Holy shit, what if they take the offer? I'll be buying a house!" Indeed.

This place sits on a little bit of land, toward the end of a dead end street. There is a utility right-of-way next to the property, so no one would be able to build next to this property on that side. The neighbors' house on the other side sits back in from the street, a couple of hundred feet behind this property. And there is a hill in back of the property. There is a big shed out back, which would be helpful for storage, as the house itself is only eight hundred square feet.

The place obviously needs some work, and there is only one closet in the entire house, but at least it has plenty of electrical outlets, unlike some I've looked at.

It's got a good sized kitchen.

So! Here we go! This place is already under contract, so I probably won't get it, but at least now I know there are things out there I can afford. The big (HUGE) selling point with this one is that the taxes are roughly half of those of the other houses I've looked at, because it's just over the line into the next county.

Wish me luck! I'm so scared.

Pluses and Minuses

This post is mostly my thoughts on the house, so feel free to skip.

Pluses:

I can afford it! I mean, really afford it.

It's on a quiet road and has a little bit of land (1.8 acres). The road dead-ends a few houses past this place, so there'd be little traffic.

There's a large (9 x 32) shed out back with electrical service that I could use for storage.

It's just the right size - I could afford to heat it in the winter.

It has washer and dryer hookups, and comes with a washer and dryer, albeit ancient ones.

It's not a kabillion years old, like some of the stuff I looked at.

There's no creaky basement (just a crawlspace), so I don't have to worry about basement flooding. The furnace and water heater are in a room off the bathroom and easily accessible.

There's a deck! A beautiful deck that wraps around two sides of the house.

The house across the road is in nice shape, and the house next door is huge and beautiful, so I probably don't have to worry about trailer trash next door.

The electrical service has been updated, and there's tons of outlets.

There is overhead lighting in all the rooms, and ceiling fans in the living room and kitchen.

The living room has a wooden floor, albeit one that would have to be refinished.

There's a brick barbeque thingie in the backyard.

I could move all the plants from my current place in the spring, and have an instant garden. And I could put in more gardens! All the gardens I want.

Well and septic means no municipal water bill every quarter.

It's close enough to work so I wouldn't have a long commute. (For the record, it's fifteen miles and twenty minutes from the office.)

This little house gives off a good vibe. I could be happy there.

Minuses:

There are some huge pine trees, some of which are already dead, in between the house and the shed. These would have to come down pronto, and that's very expensive.

The last quarter-mile or so of road to the house was not very well plowed this morning, although I managed to get up and down it with no problem.

There is a large hill directly behind the property, and a small creek at the bottom of the hill. I don't know if runoff from heavy rains or snowmelt could cause that creek to flood.

There is no garage or carport.

There is only one closet, and not really a lot of room in the bedroom to put in another one, although I could put one in the kitchen.

There is always a possibility that a developer could buy the land at the end of the road and put in some monstrous housing development.

I'm not sure if there's an outdoor hose spigot.

I would have to learn how to use a lawn mower, although really, at 46, I think it's about damn time. (true of any house)

I would have to shovel the driveway, and the end of the driveway where the road plows dump the snow, in the winter. (true of any house)

There are no streetlights on this section of the road.

Well and septic means possible well and septic repairs, although I will have these inspected.

I would have to move in the dead of winter, which is no fun at all.


That's all I can think of for now. I'll probably be adding to this as time goes on, or until the holders of the first contract cough up some money, at which point it'll all be moot. I keep telling myself that either way, it's all okay, that if I don't get this one, something I like even better will come along. Keep telling myself that ........

It Happens Every Time ........

....... The boss goes out of town, and dumps a bunch of stuff on my lap of which I had no prior knowledge, expecting me to handle it.

Today, for example, I had to make a decision about spending $8,400.00 in advertising for a business of which my boss is a managing partner. And I had to make the decision in, like, thirty seconds, because my boss had already dicked around with this thing for so long that now it was up against a firm deadline (which he KNEW before he dumped it on me and took off). And I couldn't call one of the other partners, because my boss had said that HE would handle it. And I couldn't get ahold of my boss, because he left his cell phone in the car in the airport parking lot.

But hey, that's why they pay me the big bucks, right? *snort*

Movie Review - "Mamma Mia"

Mamma mia, indeed. What a piece of shit. I mean, I love Abba just as much as the next person, and that's why I wanted to see this movie. For some reason, I thought that the actors would be lip-synching to actual Abba recordings, which would have been awesome. Instead, the actors were doing their own singing (or someone was singing for them, not sure), and it was horrible. Awful. A desecration of Abba, if you will.

And please understand, I love musicals. West Side Story? A classic. As a little kid, I was thrilled when they'd show The Sound Of Music on tv. And "1776" is one of my favorite movies ever.


Truthfully, I can't really review Mamma Mia, because I could only tolerate about twenty minutes before I had to pop out the DVD. It was that, or shit and go blind, because this was one stinker of a movie.

Repurposing

Yesterday, I finally took down my Christmas tree. (I know, I KNOW.) I dragged it out to the curb for the town to come and pick up.

Here's a weird thing: While the town, technically, will come around eventually and pick up the trees, they almost never pick up MY tree. Because there is some guy with a pickup who comes around and gets my tree, and those of my neighbors, before the town comes. I know; I've seen him tree-nabbing. And I've always kind of wondered what he did with the trees; shredded them and used them for mulch, I figured.

Yesterday, I looked out the window not fifteen minutes after I put the tree to the curb, and it was already gone. "Wow", I thought, "that dude was fast this year!" But then I looked a little further, across the street to my neighbor's house, and there was my tree, inserted into a snowbank so it looked like it was growing there. And then I noticed a couple more new pine trees in my neighbor's yard; evidently their teenage kids had decided to do a little exterior decorating, which is way cool.

I just wonder what they're going to do with the trees when the snow melts; call the tree-nabber, maybe.

What a Blast!

Here's an idea of how bad the local housing market is: When my Realtor and I went looking at houses on Saturday, my mortgage guy came along for the ride. Just, you know, in case I wanted to put an offer on something THAT DAY.

So! That was a hell of a lot of fun. I was amazed to discover how much house I could actually buy (1,400 sq.ft., which is WAY more than I need or want) (this one place had a totally tiled bathroom with a walk-in glass block shower), if I was willing to settle for next-to-no lawn and a sketchy neighborhood. And here's where having grown up here is a help: Some of the neighborhoods we looked at seemed perfectly fine on a cold January afternoon, but I know for a fact they turn into war zones on warm summer nights.

The last place we looked at was out of town a little bit. Even the listing agent called it a dump, which my Realtor explained is like a mother calling her kid ugly. It needed a ton of work, but the square footage and the yard were just right. Now I just need to find one like that, that doesn't need about twenty grand worth of repairs, and I'm all set! Hee.

Oh, and what is up with the lack of closets? I mean, I can understand the scarcity of electrical outlets, because people weren't running nine million electrical doohickeys back in the day, but why are there no closets? Didn't people wear clothes back then?

And my mortgage guy has triplet ten-year-old girls. How cute is that?

A Little Devisive

The debate is raging between my friends and coworkers as to whether a well and septic (which I will have to have if I'm out away from town a little bit) are acceptable.

My coworkers are all, "oh, a well and septic aren't any trouble at all. You just have to replace the well pump every once in a while, and pump out the septic every ten years or so, and that's all there is to it! Nothing to be concerned about."

And my friends are all, "OH MY GOD wells and septic systems are EVIL EVIL EVIL you will go BANKRUPT trying to take care of a well and septic and THEN YOU WILL DIIIIIEEEEEEEE."

I have no idea who's right. I do know that while some people do have problems with their wells and septic systems, surely it can't be as dire as my friends are saying. I also know that you can have the systems tested before you buy. I think I'll ask the Realtor (squeeeee! I have a Realtor!) about it tomorrow.

How about you guys? Well and septic, or municipal?

Holy Cow, These Guys Move Fast

I talked to a Realtor at noon today. I have already been pre-qualified for a mortgage and have been e-mailed several houses to look at, and I will probably be looking at houses this weekend. I realize that I may still be looking at houses a year from now, but it's thrilling (and terrifically scary) to know that I'm actually getting started.

You Can't Make This Shit Up

So! The FedEx package (a lamp, by the way) was missing, I had filed a police report, and the policeman had asked me to talk to my neighbors to find out if they had seen anything (in other words, DO HIS JOB), and he would stop back the next night to follow up.


P., who lives kitty-corner below me (the one who's getting evicted) wasn't home, so I couldn't talk to him. And after talking to R. upstairs and getting the scoop on the supposed thugs who lived below me, I wasn't about to go knocking on THEIR door. I mean, getting your head blown off over a stolen lamp seems kind of silly.


The policeman came back last night and I filled him in. He said he would go down and talk to the people below me, and go from there. I said, "hey, if you see a Tiffany-style stained glass floor lamp down there, let me know!" He laughed and said he would, and left.


Two minutes later, there's a knock on my door. It's the cop, WITH MY LAMP. Still in the box. He said the guy downstairs told him that FedEx had left the package right in front of his door, and that JUST AS THE COP WAS KNOCKING he was planning to find out which apartment I lived in and give me my lamp.


The cop also told me that the guy was pretty ticked off that I would call the cops on him, and the cop said he explained that I hadn't called the cops ON HIM; I had simply called to report a theft, and the cop was talking to ALL the neighbors, just doing his job.


Not wanting this *thug* to think I had called the cops ON HIM, I went downstairs after the cop left and introduced myself. And this *thug*? Is the nicest guy in the world. I shit you not. He explained that he didn't know which apartment was mine, and was just holding the package until he found out. He told me how he had turned down the bass on his stereo, because he was afraid it might be too loud (yes, it had been too loud). We chatted for a little bit, and now all is well.


But! Some lingering questions remain:


1. Why did R. upstairs describe the new people as intimidating thugs? M. downstairs seems very nice, and according to him (M), he lives alone. M. also said that he hadn't been around the back of the building yet, and that's why he didn't know how to get to my apartment (stairs in back). So who were the people R. saw "lurking around"?


2. Why did M. hold my package for a DAY AND A HALF, days on which both he and I were home in the morning and evening? Why did he even take it inside his apartment in the first place, once he looked at the label and saw that it wasn't addressed to him?


3. When the cop brought the lamp upstairs, the package had been opened, and the instructions had been taken out of their plastic sleeve and laid on top of the rest of the contents. Why?


Is a mystery ................. The good news is the lamp is back, and the new guy is not an "intimidating thug". But I'm still looking for a Realtor.

Guess What I Did Last Night!!

........ filed a police report on the FedEx package that someone stole off my back porch yesterday.



Now, I'm not accusing anyone (OH YES I AM), but I was talking to my upstairs neighbor R last night, and he said that the people who moved in below me (whom I have not yet met, although I've heard plenty from them) are, quote, "thugs" who were "lurking around the building" and "intimidating him", and if the landlord didn't get rid of them , he was going to move.



Excuse me while I call a realtor ..........

My Table - Let Me Show You It

I've been looking for a new kitchen table for a few years now. I knew what I wanted - the farmhouse style, with a natural-finished wood top and white legs. Look what I found at a thrift store last weekend for twenty-five bucks!:






Is beautiful, no? (No, the legs aren't wonky. It's just the angle from which the pic was taken.) (I'm always trying to explain my crappy pics - I really need to take a class or something.) The only problem was getting it home. The guys at the thrift store took off two of the legs so we could angle it into the car, and I took the other two legs off at home so I could get it through the door. Success!


Oh, and I gave my old kitchen table, which was given to me by friends almost twenty years ago when I left my (then) husband, to my new upstairs neighbor, who hasn't moved his stuff up from the City yet and needed a table.


Pretty, pretty table. Finally, after years of searching, I have found you.

Hung Over

Sorry, but there it is. I think my liver may have attempted suicide at some point over the weekend. I'll be back as soon as I don't feel like hurling all over the keyboard. Oh, and speaking of hurling(!), here's an overhead shot of my secret dessert shame:




You're welcome! Excuse me........

Back in a Few

I'm off to go get drunk celebrate the New Year! I hope everybody has a happy one, and I'll see you all on Monday.

If you're looking for reading material, you can scroll down to read about my embarrassing dessert obsession, or scroll down even further to read Possibly The Longest Post In The History Of The World, which could very possibly take up your entire weekend (warning: it's about cat toys). (Congrats again, Bridgett!)

See you Monday!

(YET ANOTHER gratuitous cute kitten pic. Hey, it's MY blog. Heh.)

My Secret

Confession time - I spent last evening making my absolute favorite dessert of all time - Jello Crown Jewel Dessert, as prepared from a recipe from my Mom's old "Joys of Jello" cookbook.

I wish I was kidding, but I'm not. This is probably the most complicated thing I make (which says something about my culinary skills, I'm afraid). The "total time" listed for the recipe is nine hours, forty-five minutes, which is freaking insane. I guess people had more time back in the fifties, when this recipe first appeared. Granted, that time includes the jello setting time, but still. Realistically, you have to spread this sucker out over three days. Day one: Make jello and let it set. Day two: Assemble and let the whole thing set (that was last night's job.) Day three: You FINALLY get to eat it.

This recipe takes four different kinds of jello, pineapple juice, graham crackers, and a shit-ton of Cool Whip, among other things. And when assembled, it kinda looks like somebody already ate it once and puked it back up again.

Sound nasty-ass? Oh yes it does. But I kid you not, this is the absolute best dessert ever. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I've been eating this stuff since I was a baby, and my Mom always made it for my birthday, and .......... memmoorrrrrieeeessss ....... light the corners of my miiiiiinnnnddddddd................. *snif*

Seriously, I love this dessert, and when the clock strikes midnight tonight, I'm gonna have a big old plateful of it right in front of me. That's a promise.

Cat Toy Review! - Updated!

Disclaimer: If you do not own cats, this will be the most boring (and longest!) post you've ever read. Of course, the same may also apply if you DO own cats, so whatever, you've been warned.




The other day the cats broke their Cat Attack toy - just snapped the wand off right at the base. This toy was battery operated so that the wand would swing around by itself for the cats to bat at. And while they liked it, it was by no means their favorite toy - it would hold their attention for a few minutes, and then they'd wander away.



So I got to thinking about all the cat toys I've bought over the years, both for these guys and other cats, and decided to do a little review. Here we go!

1. Cat Attack (see pic above)

Cost: Approximately twenty bucks when I bought it several years ago for Rocky, which was the most I'd ever spent on a cat toy.

Description: Battery operated. Round base with a wavy wand thing that would randomly wiggle around. Also came with a remote control so you could make it run around on smooth surfaces, i.e., the kitchen floor.

Did they play with it? Sometimes, more so when they were kittens. They preferred to have it placed on an elevated surface so they could leap for the wavy wand thing. Overall, mostly a "meh".

2. Cat Track Cat Toy


Cost: Around ten bucks.

Description: Basically a hollow round plastic tube with a ball inside and openings for inserting paws to bat the ball around.


Did they play with it? For about thirty seconds, until they realized they could not actually get the ball out of the tube, and then interest was lost.


3. Cat Play Cube

Cost: $3.88 at Walmart.

Description: Kind of a pop-up tent, for cats.

Did they play with it? All. the. time. They especially love for me to dangle a toy into one of the openings, so they can pounce on the cube and collapse it.



4. Pure Commotion







Cost: $24.99 at PetSmart, although I later found it on line at Walmart for $14.99. Figures.

Description: See picture above. Battery-operated and timer/speed controlled, with a feather that flings around.


Did they play with it? Little Girl enjoys it for brief periods; The Runt has been more or less ignoring it. And they knocked the wand off the base, so I glued it back on; then they knocked it off AGAIN, so I super-glued it on; then The Runt gave it a body check and knocked the wand off again, so I electrical-taped it back on. The wand is staying on for now.


5. Cat Dancer


Cost: Around three bucks.


Description: Piece of flexible wire with cardboard chew-things on each end.


Did they play with it? This is their absolute favorite toy. They LOVE for me to drag it around the house so they can chase it and pounce on it.


6. Piece of Yarn


Cost: Free, if you've got some yarn lying around.


Description: Yarn. duh.



Did they play with it? Oh, they love for me to drag a length of yarn around for them to chase, but after pulling several inches of it out of The Runt's mouth after he decided it would be a good idea to eat the yarn, I've been a little wary of this.

Wow, this is taking a while. Anybody still there? Hello?



7. Soda bottle tops, crumpled-up cigarette packs, etc. Aka: Stuff that's going in the garbage, with a quick fling past the cats first to see if they're interested.


Cost: Free, by the time it gets to the cats.


Description: Stuff that's going in the garbage, with a quick toss past the cats to see if they want to play with it.


Did they play with it? They'll play with anything, as long as it's moving. Once the movement stops, they're not interested.


8. Ba-Da-Beam laser toy






Cost: Around seventeen bucks, if I remember correctly.


Description: See pic above. Battery-operated toy emits a laser light beam that circles around for the cats to chase.


Did they play with it? Yes! This is one of their favorites. I set it so the light circles around on the wall, and they love to jump after it. And it has a timer, so if you forget to turn it off, the batteries don't run down.



9. Hand-held laser pointer.



Cost: Around five bucks.


Description: Laser pointer, like you'd use in the office.


Did they play with it? Oh, they love for me to go room to room in the apartment, shining the light around, so they can bounce off the walls, the furniture and each other trying to "catch" the light. A big success, if tiring (for me).


10. Fling-Ama.



Cost: About twenty-five bucks


Description: This is a vertical toy that hangs from a doorknob. It has a motorized track with a string that runs around and around for the cats to bat at.


Did they play with it? I got this for them for Christmas, and right now, they think it's the greatest thing since sliced bread. They play with it and play with it, and I'm afraid that The Runt's gonna break it pretty soon because he's so rough with it. The only downside is that there's no timer; if you forget to turn it off before you leave the house, you're coming home to a dead battery.



11. Hartz Cat Activity Center


Cost: Around eight bucks

Description: Crinkly plastic mat with wand-type toys sticking out of it.


Did they play with it? Let's insert a big bronx cheer here. They totally ignored this thing.

12. Crackle Chute Play Tube

Cost: Eight Bucks

Description: Flexible tube made out of some type of crinkly material that sounds like plastic bags being scrunched up.

Did they play with it? Oh yeah, they like to ambush each other by waiting until one of them's in the tube and then pouncing. It's about four feet long, though, so it does take up quite a bit of room. But they enjoy it.

13. Motor Mouse







Cost: $18.00 plus tax


Description: Like the Cat Track Cat Toy (#2 above), but battery operated and with a mouse that runs around inside the tube (see pic above). The mouse is free-spinning, so they can play with it even when it's turned off.

Did they play with it? Oh, they were fascinated when I first brought this home, and I thought I had a huge hit on my hands, but then they lost interest. And that's when I finally figured it out: These guys only have an attention span of about three minutes; that's the longest amount of time they'll play with ANYTHING before giving in to their ennui.

Updated to add:

14. Undercover Mouse

Cost: $30.00 *gulp*

Description: A circular plastic mat with a battery-operated wand underneath that scurries about.

Did they play with it? Oh yeah, they like this one. For now, anyway.

So in conclusion (whew!), their favorites are the hand-held laser pointer and the Cat Dancer, because they can chase them all over the apartment (as long as I'm on the other end, of course.) They also love to pounce on the cat play cube, and play with the Fling-Ama. About the only thing they wouldn't play with at all was the Hartz Cat Activity Center. And again, keep in mind that their very short attention spans mean that NOTHING will hold their interest for very long.


If anybody has a cat toy that can hold the cat's attention for more time than it takes to poach an egg, let me know!



Oh, and if anybody's actually made it to the end of this thing, CONGRATULATIONS! You deserve a prize or something .......... wait! That's a great idea! The first person to make it to this part and leave a comment will get a fabulous! prize! (not a cat toy, I promise.) Yippee!

Guess What Santa Brought Me for Christmas?!

A new downstairs tenant. Who likes to crank the bass on his stereo really, really LOUD. All. The. Time.


Folks, I'm done fighting this fight. I've had it. Listie, I think it was you who mentioned that your mother was a realtor and could possibly help me find an agent in this area - does that offer still stand?

The Mansion

A while back, I was at the local museum, which is housed in a formerly privately-owned mansion, taking more pictures of the stained glass. This statue is positioned in front of the big windows. There is a plaque on the statue, but it's too dark in that part of the mansion to read it, so I don't know the provenance.

Can you imagine living in a house with windows like that? And statues like that? Too cool.

Christmas, 1966

That's me in the front. Check out my haircut - can you tell that Dad really, really wanted another boy? Nice sideburns, for Pete's sake! That's my Dad kneeling behind me - he was the present giver-outer. And with six kids, that could take a long time. Oh, and my Dad always wore those plaid shirts - always. No solid colors for him! And that's my brother in the back - nice widow's peak, bro! I think he actually has more hair now, forty years later, than he had back then.

Thanks, everybody, for reading all my stuff this past year - it still amazes me that anybody actually reads this blog, and it's the best Christmas gift I could hope for.

Merry Christmas!

"Want some lichen-flavored gum? It'll perk you up!"

The only Christmas TV special that I watch anymore is "Olive the Other Reindeer", simply because it's the most twisted Christmas cartoon I've ever seen. Some of the characters are drawn positively picasso-esque, and any special with a cameo by Michael Stipe as an angry reindeer is okay with me.

As far as the others - Rudolph, the Grinch, etc. - meh. I used to watch them every year, but a few years back, I realized that once you've seen a show ten or twenty times, it's really no longer required watching.

I like the 1970 movie version of Scrooge, with Albert Finney. I've got an old tape of SNL Christmas skits that I usually watch every year. And I usually watch "The Homecoming", the original "Waltons" movie, every Christmas. Oh, and "Love, Actually", because while it's not actually a Christmas movie, it is set in the Christmas season, and it's really cute.

How about you? What's your favorite Christmas TV special/movie? Least favorite?

The Big Reveal!

Oh Stabby Tree, Oh Stabby Tree,
How prickly are your branches!

And no, it's not really crooked - blame the photographer.

And yes, that IS a Bill's banner in the window - Hey, it was a game day!

Oh, and I discovered that for whatever reason, there really IS a live tree shortage in this area this year! Several people I talked to had the same problem I had - none of the usual tree-sellers had any trees.

So that's my excuse for the Charlie Brown tree. Take it or leave it.

Movie Review - "The Orphanage"

Or, "El Orfanato", in its native Spanish. No spoilers ahead; it's okay to read this if you haven't seen the movie yet.

This is a thriller about a woman whose child disappears, and the lengths she goes through to find him. I thought it was really creepy, and the ending was a knockout. There's almost no gore, but I still wouldn't let the young'uns watch this one, as I think the subject matter would freak a kid right out. Oh, and it's in Spanish with subtitles, if you're a subtitle-hater.

I enjoyed this one; I'd like to watch it again, because I think I missed some of the subtler stuff on the first viewing. Recommended!

Three Days to Go .....

..... and I'm almost ready. I just have to go to the grocery store, go to the pet store to pick up some Greenies for the cats (Yes, they will get treats, and more toys, for Christmas - Shut up!), wrap the office gifts, and ........ bake a birthday cake? WTF?

Somehow, I got talked into baking a birthday cake for the in-law who gets all pissy if his birthday is not properly acknowledged - on Christmas day.

I think the last time I tried to decorate a cake was when I was in junior high - and I misspelled the word "Valentine's". I could be in trouble here.

Hope you're not expecting too much, in-law.

Just Happy To Be Here

With the exception of The Runt, everybody in my household almost met their makers this weekend.

On Saturday morning, I discovered that the spike bar that supplies power to the fish tank had come unplugged, and the tank water was down to 66 degrees. The fish were sluggish, but recovered once the tank got back up to temp.

On Saturday afternoon, I made possibly one of the worst decisions of my life by deciding to take a back road home from the grocery store. I had assumed that the town would have plowed and sanded this particular twisty, turny, extremely steep road by then; I was wrong. Suffice it to say that I was shaking by the time I finally got off that hill.

Yesterday, Little Girl disappeared for several hours in the snow and cold and wind. I finally found her in the garden, snuggled next to Mr. Z (a garden statue) underneath his tarp.

So this morning, when it's seven degrees out and windy? That's okay. We're all still here.

Let it Snow! Let it Snow! Let it -

........ um, guys? L'il snowflakes? You can stop now. You've worked hard all morning, and you've already laid down several inches of the white stuff, so it's okay to knock off and call it a day.

....... what? WHAT?! Whaddaya mean, SIX TO TWELVE INCHES?! You say your contract calls for six to twelve today? Come on, we all know that the maximum required output is half of the minimum forecast, and you've already put down at least three, so it's time to quit! I mean it!

....... what? You say you're going to start snowing harder?! You say you're trying to improve your job performance? And you're gonna do it again on Sunday?

Guys, this isn't funny anymore! Knock it off! STOP SNOWING!


Snowflakes. They never listen.

This One's for the Haters

Thinking about Stabby, the Homicidal Christmas Tree, got me thinking about the word "stabby", which pretty much describes some of us this time of year. So I came up with the following song, sung to the tune of "Have a Holly, Jolly Christmas":

Have a stabby, jabby Christmas
It's the worst time of the year
I don't know
If there'll be woe
But I'm sure woe is near

Have a stabby, jabby Christmas
As you're driving through the sleet
Say, "Hell, no,
I just won't go
To one more meet-and-greet."

Uh, oh, I broke my toe
Struggling with the tree
At least nobody's sick
Wait - was that a sneeze?

Have a stabby, jabby Christmas
Better drink a ton of beer
Oh, be crabby
Have a stabby, jabby Christmas this year!


Thankyou. Thankyouverymuch.



But wait! I've got more ......

Said the night fart to the little lamb,
Do you smell what I smell?
Bringing tears to eyes, little lamb,
Do you smell what I smell?



I guess I'm still stuck in sixth grade .......

And It Wasn't Even On My List!

Guess who just got a raise?!

A week before Christmas, no less!

Thanks, Santa! Boss!

Late Last Night, Upon the Stair ........

Well, not last night, but a couple of weekends ago, I finally met my new neighbor, who moved into the vacant apartment next to mine.

And it's really weird, because as it turns out, he had actually moved in a few days before I met him, and I had no idea that anyone was even living over there because he's so damn quiet.

A quiet neighbor! Finally! It's a miracle! A f*cking Christmas miracle! I hope he never, ever moves out. We've talked a little bit; he's originally from Pakistan, and moved here from The City (what us hicks call NYC) to take a job with a local company.

And then I started noticing the coins. Pennies, dimes, sometimes quarters, scattered on the back porch by his door and on the stairs. At first I thought he was just accidentally dropping some change as he dug for his apartment key. And I picked up the change, because The Runt will attempt to eat just about anything, and I didn't want to be finding coinage in the litterbox. But the coins have started to occur more regularly, and I'm starting to wonder. Is this some sort of Pakistani custom? Is he purposely scattering the change to tempt the gods to bring him luck or something? Because if so, I don't want to be spoiling the tradition by picking up the coins; The Runt'll just have to take his chances in the gastrointestinal department.

I tried looking on line and couldn't find any info. Has anybody heard of coin-scattering as a tradition?

(More) Recently Read

Standard disclaimer: Feel free to skip this.

The Story of My Father by Sue Miller - Memoir about a woman caring for her father who has Alzheimer's disease. Mesmerizing. My Mom has Alzheimer's, so I could really relate to this book. At one point she talks about how her Dad thought his vision was going, when he was actually losing his ability to read - my Mom went through that exact same thing.

Tomato Girl by Jayne Pupek - Novel about a young girl with a troubled family. A little bit over-the-top, melodrama-wise, but still a good book.

And I Don't Want to Live This Life by Deborah Spungen - Memoir from the mother of Nancy Spungen, who was killed by Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols. Just sad.

I'm Looking Through You by Jennifer Boylan - Non-fiction about a pre-op transsexual growing up in a haunted house. Should have been really interesting, but I found it just so-so.

Her Last Death by Susanna Sonnenberg - Yet another "My mother was a monster; it's a miracle I'm normal" memoir. If this was the first one of these I'd read, I might have found it fascinating, but I'm getting tired of the genre and quit after about 90 pages.

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows - Novel about the lives of people living on Guernsey Island during and after WWII. Normally novels written entirely in correspondence drive me crazy, but this one was really good, if a little hokey. Recommended.

Back to the Damn Soil by Mary Gubser - About a small family farm in the late 30s/early 40s. A quick read. Okay.

Housekeeping by Marilynne Robinson - This came highly recommended, but I just ...... no. I didn't like her writing style and gave up.

Lately I feel like I'm quitting more books early than I am finishing them. But! To end on a bright note:

I Thought My Father Was God by Paul Auster - Oh, I love this book! I've read it several times. Basically, the author/editor asked people to send him their (true) stories, and they did, by the thousands, and he picked the best/most interesting ones. It started out as an NPR project, and then he made it into a book. I can't recommend this book highly enough; the stories are just fascinating. Read this book!

Stabby, the Homicidal Christmas Tree

See the beginning of this story here.


Once I had the tree up and in the stand, it was time for the lights. I got out my strings of lights and tested them. The first string was fine; the second string only had about half the lights lit. So! Time to start testing lights. Bleecccchhhh.

I only had to test about fifteen lights before I found the bad one. Insert new bulb, and voila! Two operational strings of lights.

It was when I started putting the lights on the tree that I realized just exactly how pokey this tree is. Its needles jabbed me, and jabbed me, and jabjabjabjabOWWW! I have no idea what kind of tree it is; I'm guessing it's of the SHARP variety.

Oh! So then I get all the lights up (ow ow ow), and it's time for the big reveal. I plug the lights in, and ......... only about half the lights lit up. Now there was no way that I was going to start testing lights again, and these strings of lights are older than dirt anyway, so I thought I'd call it a day, and go out Sunday morning and buy new lights.

But! As I was putting the drop cloth back in the attic, I discovered a brand new box of lights which I had forgotten I even had, evidently some post-Christmas-sale purchase of years past.

I grabbed the box, took it downstairs, opened it up, plugged in the lights, and ..... success! I took down the old lights (jab jab jab) and put up the new lights (ow ow ow) and was ready for ornaments.

And if I thought I'd gotten poked (heh) putting up the lights, putting on the ornaments was a fresh new circle of hell. I tried wearing gloves, but I kept dropping the ornaments, and so I finally had to grit my teeth and put the ornaments on bare-handed, ow ow ow-ing all the way. Merry Christmas!

Oh, and as I'm typing this, I'm all, "ow! ow! OW!" because my fingers are full of pine-tree-needle punctures. Band-aids don't seem to be helping, and it looks like I stuck my hands in the office paper shredder. *sigh*

Paging Charlie Brown ........

....... I think I've got your tree!


Saturday morning was "tree day". I like Douglas Firs, because their needles are soft and non-poky. I used to make a big deal out of going to various tree lots, comparing trees, blah blah blah. For the last several years, I've just been going to Lowe's. They always have a good selection, the prices are reasonable, and they'll put a fresh cut on the trunk, bale the tree, and pop it in/on your car. Piece of cake!


So I cleared out the back of the wagon Saturday, threw down a drop cloth, and headed for Lowe's, thinking I could be back home in half an hour. I got to Lowe's and ........ it was a ghost town. There were only about ten trees, covered in snow and ice. And it was about fifteen degrees out, meaning that all that snow and ice would have to melt off inside the house. Shit!


I knew that Home Depot sold trees, so I headed there, and ...... same story. Just a few sad, ice-and-snow-covered trees. There was a cub scout pack selling trees down the street from Home Depot, so I stopped there. And there were some decent trees, but when I hoisted a couple, it felt like they were made of lead. I needed something that I can haul up the stairs, so ..... no.


Next stop, Agway. Same story. I was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of Christmas tree shortage of which I was unaware. Then I remembered a sign that I had driven by countless times while running errands. A local Lions club sells trees for one day only each year, for nineteen bucks for any tree on the lot, starting at one o'clock. And Saturday was the day they were selling the trees.


I figured that if the trees were halfway decent, the place would be a mob scene, so I got there right at one. And it was what I imagine the wedding dress sale at Filene's Basement must be like...... utter chaos.


But! There were lots of nice volunteers. Unfortunately, there were no Douglas Firs. At this point, I just wanted a tree, any tree. So, trying not to get elbowed by any of the nine million other people who were storming the lot, I picked out a tree, had a fresh cut put on the bottom, and headed for home. Whew! Mission accomplished.


To be continued .............

(More) Gratuitous Cute Kitten Pics

Last Thursday night, we got our first appreciable snowfall of the season. So when I let the cats outside on Friday after work, I kind of wondered what their reaction would be, as this was their first snow ever. Little Girl, being the more sensible of the two, took a couple of steps into the snow, then decided that the porch was the place for her. The Runt went flying out into the backyard, skidded to a halt, and then tiptoed around for a little bit.

By Saturday afternoon, they were both running around in the snow, coming inside periodically to warm up.

I have a feeling that this tree may be on the floor by the time I get home from work today:

Here's The Runt, being tutored by Little Girl in ornament destruction tactics:

And yes, I went ahead and set up (a part of) the creche:

Pretend not to notice the suspiciously brown needles on the tree, ok? (Have I got a story for you.......)

The Groove Tube

Does anyone else remember that movie? It came out in the seventies, and was basically a series of satirical skits.

I remember watching it in the living room with my sister Ditzy, who is eight years older than me, and some of her friends. I must have been twelve or thirteen at the time, and I guess the movie must have gotten a little racy, because my Mom finally said, "Okay, Rockycat, enough of this movie for you", and sent me off to bed.

And I remember being secretly glad, because even though I didn't understand all of the innuendos, I understood enough to know that I was really embarrassed by what I was seeing.

As a kid, whenever a tv show would show two people kissing, or (gulp!) in bed together, I'd get all embarrassed, squeal "Ewwww, love junk!" and leave the room.

I guess I was a little, erm, prude-ish. And up until my Mom got Alzheimer's, which left her unable to understand the content of anything on tv, I would get embarrassed if we were watching tv together and "love junk" would come on.

So tell me: Do kids still get embarrassed by "love junk" on tv, or are they so overexposed these days that it fails to register? Is there anything that you're embarrassed to watch with your Mom?

Just curious.


Oh! And when I was in high school, I pawing through the bookshelf in the dining room one day, looking for something to read. And my Mom handed me her copy of "The Thorn Birds" and said, "Here, try this one - it's really good". And, well, if you've ever read "The Thorn Birds", you know it's got some parts that are a little steamy. And I was reading along, and I was all, like, "Oh my GOD my MOM read this!! And TOLD ME to read it! She KNOWS I'm reading this! Eeeek!" Heh.

The Cards Are On Their Way!

When you receive your card (if you asked for one, that is!), here are some helpful hints:

If the card is stuck shut due to overapplication of glue during the assembly process, just pry the darn thing open.

Alternatively, if pieces have fallen off due to underapplication of glue during the assembly process, try to think of it as a fun! Christmas! puzzle! to put together.

Thanks,
Rockycat

(obviously, I'm not so good with the glue.)

(and I'm blaming the shaky handwriting on the kittens - they kept batting at the pen as I tried to write.)

A Little Introspection Can Be a Dangerous Thing

I was in line at the post office, waiting to buy stamps for my Christmas cards. The choices this year are "nutcracker" (kinda weird-looking and scary nutcrackers, if you ask me, but then again, aren't all nutcrackers kinda weird-looking and scary?), and a portrayal of the Madonna and Child. (And why are the Christmas stamps always lame? Postal Service, get on that, would ya?)

I was thinking, "those nutcrackers are scary; maybe I should go with the Madonna/Child", but then I thought, "well, I'm not religious, so Madonna/Child is probably not the best choice", and then it hit me:

Wait a minute! Why am I, a non-religious person, even sending out Christmas cards to begin with? As far as that goes, should I even be putting up a tree? Or decorating the porch?

And then I thought, "well, you can still celebrate Christmas without being religious, right?"

Um, well, technically, ......... no. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be a Christian in order to celebrate Christmas.

But I'm gonna do it anyway. The cards, the tree, the whole nine yards - because it's a tradition that I enjoy, and it helps get me through the winter.

"Hypocrite" - it's my middle name.



Oh! And it's not to0 late to get your card! (hee!) Hurry hurry!

Department of Unneccessary Products

Introducing ....... the Scotch Gift Wrap Cutter!

Just in case you haven't yet mastered using scissors.

Must .............. Resist ..................

Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm losing this battle. I have got to put up these pics from icanhascheezburger.com. Behold!



more animals


more animals


more animals



Some days you just gotta give in .............

Chewing Gum and Cigarettes

I sorted through my VCR tapes (yes, I am old) the other night, and tossed a bunch of stuff that I hadn't watched in ....... oh .......... YEARS. But I did find some stuff that I had forgotten I had, so I've been taking a little trip down memory lane watching these old shows that I taped.


And the other night I was watching some tribute-charity-concert-for-Queen (the band, not the monarch) thing that I taped back in the stone age, and Def Lepard came out. And the lead singer was bouncing around the stage, and playing air guitar, and wailing his little heart out. And then they did a close-up, and he was ........ chewing gum.


And I was all like, Duuuuuude! I know it's your JOB and all, and you've sung these same songs a bazillion times, but are you really SO BOOOORRRRRRRRED that you have to chew gum?


And I was actually a little, well, insulted. You are supposed to be entertaining me! Spit out the damn gum!


And then, later on, Slash was on stage, and he was ripping up a guitar solo, and .... smoking a cigarette. And I was like, can't you save the smoke for later?!


And I kept hoping that the singer dude would be halfway through a high note, and choke on the damn gum, and get all red-faced and keel over, and the roadies would have to come out and give him the Heimlich maneuver, and the gum would come flying out and hit some poor kid in the front row in the face, but then the kid would hold it up over his head like a fly ball and the audience would roar and ........... that didn't happen.



Those tribute concerts. They're never as good as you hope they will be.

Cards here! Getcher cards here!

Having OCD is hard, especially when it comes time to do the home-made Christmas cards. Add in some neuroses and a bad case of perfectionism (which really sucks, as I NEVER get anything perfect, or even close), and I begin to wonder why I even started this project.


But! I am pressing on! I was just going to go the store-bought route this year, but I was at a flea market a few weeks ago and found some great old pictures. Here's my favorite:


Look! Santa finally brought him the pony!


I am taking the pictures, adding some snark, and making Christmas cards! And now I find that I've made more than I need, and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop any time soon (thanks, OCD!), so if you would like a home-made Christmas card from yours truly, just e-mail your name and address to me*. (If you have a blog, put that address in there, too, so I can check it out!) My email address is rockycat 24 AT yahoo DOT com. I will email you back within a couple of days to confirm, and then, voila! A Christmas card from me will show up at your mailbox! Hopefully before Christmas.

Now, don't embarrass me, guys. At least one or two of you would like a card, right? Right?


*Of course, all addresses will stay strictly confidential. And I'm not a scary stalker, so don't worry about me showing up at your door.

Voicing Her Opinion

Don't worry, Little Girl, I won't make you wear them. Well, maybe long enough for a picture .......

Whooaaaa.......

So yesterday morning I wrote a post about poverty (see below), and when I got home from work last night, there was a sign on the downstairs neighbor's door. It was an eviction notice. The last time he'd paid the rent was in September.


Updated to add: And yes, I am ready to put my money where my mouth is and see if this guy needs some help. But here's the thing: He doesn't know that I saw the eviction notice*. (He wasn't home at the time.) So will it be weird when I ask him if there's anything I can do for him? Should I just put an anonymous card with some money in it in his door?



* no, I was not snooping. I have to walk past his door to get to my place, and the notice was in GREAT BIG LETTERS.

Poverty Porn

I watched some of "The Secret Millionaire" last night. The show takes millionaires and plops them down "undercover" in poor communities, where they have to live amongst the poor people and then give some of their money away at the end of the show.

And it was kind of funny, because at first the rich people were all, like, "Oh my God, people live like this?!" I mean, the first rich people, a guy and his son, had to find a low-rent apartment, and they were shocked, shocked, to find a place with holes in the walls and exposed wiring and bugs in the sink. And I was thinking, "Shit, I've seen worse than that. Hell, I've lived in worse than that." And then the second rich couple, a husband and wife, were amazed to find out how much groceries actually cost, because, after all, they had someone to do their shopping for them.

And I was thinking, I'll bet a lot of people are kind of relieved watching the poor people on this program, because they're thinking "Hell, I might be bad off, but I'm not that bad off." And then I thought, well, you know what? Even if you're not living in poverty right now, it's right next to you. In case you think it's far away, it's not. Think about the change jar next to the cash register at your local convenience store with the picture on the front of a little girl with heart problems whose parents have no health insurance. Think about that elderly widow living next door who's on a fixed income and can't afford to hire someone to shovel her sidewalk.

And then I was thinking, Why should needy people have to hope that the producers of some tacky TV show drop down out of the sky to save their lives? I guess that's why poor people buy the most lottery tickets. Because they know that a bolt out of the blue, no matter how unrealistic, is their only chance.

And it shouldn't be that way. And before anybody starts going on and on about how these people just need to pull themselves up by their bootstraps and blah blah blah: Yeah, some of them do just need to get their shit together. But some of them can't. Are you going to tell that 80-year-old widow next door to go get some job training? Tell that sick child's parents to just get some better damn jobs so she can have health insurance? Do you think they're not already trying?

And here's the sad thing: The government won't help these people. It could, but it won't. Oh, our fine representatives on Capitol Hill can bail out the investment banks and the big three automakers and anybody else who contributes mightily to their campaigns, but it looks like little Betsy's gonna have to pay for her heart surgery with the proceeds from bake sales.

And it's not right. It's just not. But you know what? The government won't help these people, but you can. They're right there, right next to you. You can drop a quarter in the change jar; you can shovel your neighbor's walk. Until we get people in power who have some idea of what real people are going through, it's up to us.

They're right next to you.

Movie Review - "The Strangers"

No spoilers ahead - if you haven't already seen it, it's okay to read this.

"The Strangers" is a typical "scary movie". Young couple, isolated house, menacing people outside. That said, there are some (fairly) interesting twists. This is one of those movies that actually got a little better upon a second drunken viewing. And "Mama Tried", which I had not heard in years, was on the soundtrack, so that's a plus. Also, it's got a really short running time, so by the time you're getting exasperated with the ridiculousness of it all, the movie's over! And there is not a lot of gore, so you don't have to spend a good chunk of the movie with your hands over your eyes.


All of which, unfortunately, cannot outweigh the fact that Liv Tyler can't act. At all. Watching any movie in which she appears, at first you're just taken in by her beauty. That face! Those legs! But after a while you're wincing, because Jeeezus Christ, that girl couldn't act her way out of a paper bag.


So! Do I recommend this one? Sure, go ahead. It's no classic for the ages, but it is watchable, which is more than can be said for most horror movies.


Oh! And if you've already seen it: WHAT IS THE DEAL with that nightie her boyfriend gives her? Is it supposed to be sexy? 'Cause it looks a lot like something my gramma used to wear.

Oh, NOES!

I'm reading "Of Human Bondage"* during my lunch breaks at work**, and I'm at the point where Philip is about to literally starve to death, and I'm so worried for him! Granted, it's mostly his own fault, after blowing all his money on bad investments and Mildred the hooker, but still!

I hope he makes it, poor kid.



*I freely admit that before I started reading it, I assumed that "Of Human Bondage" was about African-American slavery in the 1800s. Oops.

**No, I'm not a pretentious jerk (I don't think so, anyway) - just trying to read some of the classics that I never got around to when I was younger.

Boys .......

Last night when I got home I let the cats out. And within an hour, I heard what sounded like an epic cat fight going on in the neighbor's backyard. Little Girl came tearing up the stairs, flew into the house, and stayed in the rest of the night. The Runt came in a little later, minus his collar and with a bloody paw.

My last cat, Rocky, was a fighter. And while rabies shots are generally good for three years, I don't think even a year ever went by without him getting a rabies booster, as the vet would give him the shot as a precaution each time I brought him in for post-fight repairs. That cat probably had enough anti-rabies serum in him to keep four cats vaccinated.

Rocky didn't care who he fought with. Cats, dogs, woodchucks, skunks - it was all the same to him. Although as far as I know, he only tangled with a skunk once before learning that particular lesson. And he didn't stop fighting once he was "fixed" - he kept fighting his entire life.

I am hoping that The Runt learned a lesson last night, and will stop messing with other animals. But I'm not counting on it.

Get Ready ......... Get Set ............

I had this dream last night ........

(click click click clickclickclickCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICK)

(That's the sound of everybody clicking over to other sites at the mention of SOMEONE ELSE'S DREAM, for God's sake.)

ANYWAY (heh), I had this really scary dream about zombies. Normally, zombies are not in the top ten list of things I worry about, mainly because THEY DO NOT EXIST, but I dreamed about them anyway, and it was one of those dreams that was so frightening, I woke up and was still in the dream for a moment, wondering how I was going to get rid of the damn zombies.

So! That's the last "dream post" I'll do, oh ......... ever. I'll get something else up here real soon so everybody can come back.

How to Remove Stitches from a Kitten.

Tools required: Cuticle scissors, flashlight, steady hands.

1. Wait until she's sleeping.

2. Move very, very quietly.


After deciding there was no way in hell I was going to try and take those stitches out myself, I stopped by the shelter on Saturday to make sure someone was available to remove them before I brought Little Girl over. And, well, they didn't want to remove them on Saturday as it was only Day 9 after the surgery, as opposed to Sunday, which would be Day 10. Except, whoops, they're closed on Sunday, and oh yeah, they're closed on Monday too ...... So on Sunday, I took the stitches out myself.

Now I know how to remove stitches from a kitten. I guess it's just one of those skills, like changing a flat tire, that you hope you never have to actually use.

3, Oh, and if the kitten wakes up mid-procedure? Just keep going. If you're fast enough, you can have them all out before she realizes what's going on.

I'm Fairly Certain Alcohol Will Be Involved At Some Point

I'm stuck at work today (not really, as I volunteered to come in), and I'm looking forward to the weekend, a very special weekend, as Tomorrow! Is! My! Birthday!


As a kid, having a birthday right after a holiday kinda sucked, because everybody was still recovering from Thanksgiving, most of my little kid friends were out of town visiting the grandparents, and who wanted to think about planning a birthday party when Christmas was right around the corner?


But! I could have it worse - I know two people (not including Jesus, heh), who were born on Christmas. And seriously? If I had been born on Christmas, I would just change my birthday. To, like, June 16 or something, a nice warm day with no major holidays around.


Oh! And one of the people I know who has a Christmas birthday is a total snot about it. This is a grown man, and he throws a little hissy fit if he doesn't get birthday cards! and presents! and a birthday cake! On Christmas Day. Buddy, word up: You're fighting a losing battle.


I hope everybody had a happy Thanksgiving, and for everybody who got up before dawn this morning to go shopping, all I can say is, better you than me. I hope you got some great deals!

Oh, and one of my birthday! festivities! involves taking Little Girl to have her stitches removed. Party like a rock star, indeed.

A Cautionary Tale

On today, Black Friday, I thought I would relate a tale my niece tells at the dinner table every Thanksgiving.

Her friend, Tracy, was shopping at CrapMart with her two kids and got into a disagreement with another shopper, who also had children. I believe the words "trailer trash" were involved, along with much swearing. After the manager broke up the little altercation by escorting the other woman out of the store, Tracy finished her shopping and headed for her car. The other woman was waiting for her in the parking lot and coldcocked her in front of the kids, breaking her nose. Unfortunately the other woman picked the wrong gal to mess with, because when Tracy came to, she got up off the pavement and beat the shit out of the other woman.

Be careful out there!

I Survived!

My future as a seer looks bleak; #2 (see below) was the only one that turned out to be correct. I have discovered that when it comes to these holiday gatherings, "Last in, first out" is the best policy. I was gone before they even sliced the pie (and before anybody could stuff a dishwashing rag in my hand). Success!

Nostradamus

Here's my predictions for tomorrow:

1. I will show up at my sister TIB's house with pies and whipped cream as requested, and she will make a snotty/snide/catty remark to start the festivities. (My favorite so far? "My God, you've still got that ratty old purse?"* (btw, the purse was old, but it was NOT ratty.))

2. Dinner will be ready approximately one and a half hours after the advised time.

3. Somebody will get drunk and belligerent. Everyone else will ignore that person, unless more than one person gets drunk and belligerent, at which point all bets are off.

4. At some time my niece L. will show up, coked out, and will be all lovely and smiles and hugs until the drugs start to wear off and she morphs into a seething mound of anger, throws an honest-to-god tantrum, and storms out the door. This usually occurs before dinner, but sometimes after.

5. My Mom and I will get stuck doing the (5,000) dishes, as everyone else will suddenly remember pressing engagements elsewhere as soon as the dishwashing liquid appears.

6. I will drive home, exhausted and very, very glad to have survived another holiday with the family.

Hope your Thanksgiving is calm, peaceful and bright!



*And yes, at that moment there was NOTHING MORE I WANTED IN THE WORLD than to snap back, "My God, you've still got that ratty old face?" But while baiting TIB into a snarling, spitting frenzy can be highly entertaining in a mean-spirited way, the fallout from a TIB explosion drifts like ashes onto everyone in the family, so I keep my mouth shut.

Okay, okay, I admit it ......

...... I watched "My Shocking Story - Octopus Man" on TLC last night.*

And Pauline, I'm pretty sure it's got "The Day the Whale Exploded in the Street" beat. I mean, I'm not sure how you top an ex-carnival freak show worker, hiding from debt collectors, who just happens to have some extra arms and legs.

Further proof that I will watch anything.



*Followed by a chaser of "The Secret Lives of Women - Child Brides" on WE. Which was unintentionally hilarious.

Game? or Lame?

Another blogger (I'm sorry if it's you and I don't give you credit; I read a LOT of blogs) recently wrote about leg warmers. And a light bulb went off over my head! I hadn't given much thought to leg warmers since around, oh, 1985 or so, but living here in the frozen Northeast and wearing skirts/dresses to work on occasion, I thought leg warmers were a brilliant idea.

So! I went on line and bought some leg warmers, did the whole ship-to-store thing, and picked them up two days later. And now my knees will be nice and toasty on cold mornings.

But! As I said, leg warmers scream "Flashdance" to me. Although I really don't care if I'm twenty-odd years out of style, as long as I'm warm. So what do you think? Are leg warmers a great idea or a really lousy fashion choice? Game? ...... or lame?

Another Mall Thing .......

There was a sign in Sears that read, "Don't just give a gift, grant a wish". But on first glance, I thought it read, "Don't just give a shit .........." And I was like, "Wow, Sears! Edgy!". Until I read it again, that is.

Seen at the Mall

I succumbed and went to the mall on Sunday. In my defense, it was cold and crappy out, and hunting season (which means stay out of the woods) is here, and hey! Walking the mall still counts as walking, right? No? Here are some of the things I saw:

1. Two girls, I am guessing eleven or twelve years old, shopping together, in their PJs. I must be officially a million years old, because all I could think was, where are their parents?

2. You would never guess that the local population is mostly geriatric, because at least 70% of the shoppers were under twenty. And the local mall is chock full of teen/tween shops. I guess the kids are the only ones with discretionary income to blow these days.

3. An Asian woman who loudly and rudely accosted a sales clerk about a price differential. (Why is a seemingly identical item priced more in "petites" than it is in "misses"? It's called marketing, honey.) Sales clerks must loathe the holidays.

4. Lots of guys in shorts. It's thirty degrees out, fellas! Put on some pants! Please!

5. Santa was already in center court, and it's not even Thanksgiving yet. Although he could have been there since Halloween, for all I know. Pretty soon they'll just have him there year-round, with a one-month break for the Easter Bunny.

6. Lots of local college students, flinging around their credit cards and their Long Island accents. There's something about a Long Island accent that makes my head hurt.

7. (This bullet point deleted by the author, for fear it might get her hunted down and killed.)

8. Thank God, I think the mall finally outlawed "heelies". The last time I was there, several months ago, there were a ton of kids wearing heelies. And I wanted to brain each and every one of them, and their parents for letting them wear their heelies to the mall.

So! I guess you know why I try to avoid the mall - it irritates the shit out of me. And I did not find the one thing I was looking for (an air purifier with a replaceable/washable HEPA filter -know anyplace selling them?), so the whole thing was kind of a bust. But! I did get a blog post out of it, so there's that.

Sugar Cookies

Does anyone have a good sugar cookie recipe? The one I've been using for years just isn't doing it for me anymore. Granted, I only make cookies once a year, if that, but I'd still like a good recipe.

Thanks!

About Last Night, Part Two

Last night after work I went to the shelter vet's to pick up teh kittens.

(Oh! And I had to draw a line in the sand with my boss. I had TOLD him earlier in the day that I could work no later than 4:30, my normal quitting time, because the shelter vet's closed at five promptly, and it's a twenty-minute drive to the vet's. At 3:30, the boss decided he wanted to do a big report that *supposedly* had to go out that day. I reminded him again that I had to leave at 4:30, and he started to hem and haw, and I said, quietly, that I would get as much done as I possibly could, but I WOULD be walking out that door at 4:30. And I did. Ahem.)

So! I got the the shelter vet's (with a whopping ten minutes to spare! Woot!), and teh kittens were all grogged out in their carriers. The vet tech was explaining their care for the next few days ("keep them quiet"? Reeeallly?), and then said that Little Girl would have to come back in ten days to have her stitches removed. "Or", she said cheerily, "I can show you how to take them out, and you can do it yourself!". Um, NO. Not gonna happen. I'll bring her right back to you, thankyouverymuch.

We got home, and The Runt staggered out of his carrier, ready to rock. But he was still so groggy that he kept listing from side to side. Little Girl came out of her carrier much more slowly, and was obviously in quite a bit of discomfort. Which was not helped, I am sure, by her brother, who kept going over and poking at her with his paws, trying to get her to play. At one point I looked over and LG was laying on the floor with The Runt STANDING ON HER STOMACH, poking at her. So I kept distracting him, trying to keep him away from poor LG, who just wanted to rest.

This morning The Runt was raring to go, and while LG was still obviously in pain (poor thing), she was able to move about a little less stiffly. They were both eating and drinking and using their litterbox, so hopefully all will be well.

Should be an interesting weekend!

Oh, and The Runt doesn't have to have stitches removed, because he doesn't have any. The guys always have it easier, it seems. But how, I wonder, do you cut an animal's nuts off and not have to put in at least a stitch or two? Is a mystery.

About Last Night .......

You know those stories that go around about how there are body organ thieves operating in third world countries? And there's an interview with a supposed victim, who's all, "yeah, I was just walking down the street, minding my own business, when something clonked me over the head, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up all groggy in a dingy hotel room with a big incision in my side and I don't know what happened ............"

I'm pretty sure that's how The Runt and Little Girl felt last night.