Archive for September 2012

Random thoughts by me:

  1. As a product of the 80s sometimes I harken back to those days and remember things that were great then and (to me) are great now. Anyone recall Whitesnake’s “Still Of The Night” video? Yeah. Rudy Sarzo.  Hot.
  2. When my cycle is about to start (and the first few days after that cycle is in horrible progress) all I want is pancakes. Three meals a day.  Heaping. Steaming. Pile. Of. Pancakes.
  3. Blue Bell ice cream’s coconut fudge.  Sex in a bowl.

That  is all.

My Hub is an Army Man. Like G.I. Joe awesome and hot and aggressive and an ass and a hero with a gun. Anyone who’s resume says “82nd Airborne” and “Ranger” and “Jungle Certified” and  “Initiate Nuclear War Certified” is amazing no matter how you cut it. (OK, he’s not in control of any nukes but if he WERE able to access them he’d be certified …there’s a lot of certificates in his file….all of which means he has fucking five minutes you’ve never seen so if you want to get your ass kicked go ahead and try him out…)

ANYWAY…..he, like me, is getting older.  He hates to admit to things like “I can’t do the splits” and “I think my hair is thinning” and “I didn’t hear you” and “What does this say on the menu?”

I can only fix one thing at a time. Eyes are easy.  But since Hub is #1: male, #2: a tough guy, and #3: incapable of making a doctor’s appointment of any type I finally gave up and made him an appointment to get his eyes checked out because I’m sick and god damn tired of reading the menu on the dish to him…. I mean it’s a freaking 1000″ TV and he can’t read it…. really????

So off to the eye doctor he goes…..cos I told him I’d stab him in his sleep if he didn’t go.  He insisted that he’d only go if they’d sell him contact lenses that he could sleep in all night.  I lied and said, “Yeah you can have those!” having no idea if he could or could not have those.

Fortunately, he not only COULD have those…he’s been wearing them for a week.  And SURPRISE he can see…… only now I’m dealing with conversations over the instant messenger that go like this:

HUB: These contacts make me look like I’m on heroin.

ME: What??

HUB: Yeah. My eyes look all wet.

ME: Maybe you are on CRACK and not heroin. What the hell?

<no response>

ME: Were you accused of being high? Or requested to take a drug test?

<no response>

ME: Are you there or…. what are you doing? Are the contacts working or not?

HUB: What are you talking about? I’m trying to run this company here! Aren’t you at work?

ME: SERIOUSLY!??! You just fucking told me you looked like you were on smack and I’m asking you questions about that! Remember?? And I am the one with the problem…… WTF is wrong with you?

HUB: Hang on. I have to go light a bowl.

And then I threw myself into traffic.



Meet our dog, Duke.

He’s amazing. He’s wonderful. He’s got a ‘high-prey-aggression-instinct’ (trait discovered this weekend).

Meet our brand new kitten, Lily.

Lily is eight weeks old and small and precious and lucky to be alive.

When we built our house Kittie (wow this is going to get confusing….Hub and I have a daughter not named Kittie but we call her Kittie and now we have a kitten that we don’t call Kittie we call her Lily. Does that make sense?) asked us, “Can I have a dog?!”

Me: Sure!

Hub: No.

So we got a dog. We rescued Duke via the veterinarian that lives a few houses down. We’d been standing in the street telling the kids to NOT ride their bikes IN the street because that is what the sidewalk is for telling him Kittie wanted a Lab, Rottie, or Boxer (she never said that. I said that which meant that’s what she wanted) and 48 hours before Kittie turned ten years old he called to tell me that a purebred Boxer had been abandoned at his office in a horrible state of starvation. That beautiful animal became part of our family 24 hours later.

For the last six years he’s been a joy … until this weekend. Kittie and her best friend recently helped deliver a litter of kittens in her best friend’s garage. (Like, eight weeks ago recent.) Kittie had brought up getting a cat a lot over the last year or so to which Hub and I both had been saying no.  Mainly because we have to board one animal every time we want to do anything that takes longer than 12 hours (or ya know three days or whatever) and we don’t want to have to do that with two. Then these kittens arrived and we were informed that Kittie’s “life would be over” if she didn’t get to keep Lily. I didn’t think it was a good sign that a kitten that was less than six days old had been claimed and named by my daughter… the fateful day arrived.

I love house cats and miss having them but when my darling old lady cat passed away at the age of 18 (I was a sophomore in high school when I got her) Hub told me, “No more cats. I hate cats.” So I’d just resigned myself to not having one. Well, now I was starting to get excited about a kitten. Last Thursday I message Hub on the IM:

Me: Got a text that Kittie’s kitten is all ready to come home. They’ve given all the others away.

Hub: Fuck.

Me: Look if you want to fight this fight, knock yourself out.

Hub: Fuuuuck.

Me: She’s promised to keep it in her room and take it with her  when she moves out after graduation.

Hub: When is that again?


Hub: This is pissing me off.

Me: What DOESN’T piss you off?

Hub: Not  having a cat doesn’t piss me off.

Me: Talk to you later.

So Friday we get kitten. She’s so tiny……and we introduce her to 70+ pound Duke. For a fleeting second I think, “Holy shit…this is going to work!”

Kittie kneels in front of her trusty pup with infant kitten in her arms. They touch noses. They stare at each other. Duke sits very still, unrestrained…staring….. and a long stream of drool comes out of the side of his mouth.

I don’t know if the kitten noticed that or if there was a telepathic animal exchange of information because everything happened like a bolt of lightening.

Duke lunged. Kitten leapt straight up into the air, over Kittie’s head, and promptly cornered herself in the hall bathroom. Duke runs Kittie over like she’s not there. (I could hear someone yelling…it was probably me.) I’m magically in the bathroom (I may have teleported) and see Kittie tackling Duke like a cornerback making sure that the end zone was not reached. I scooped Lily up who was shockingly drenched in dog spit….without a mark on her.

This is going to be an interesting and extremely long several weeks……..

My sister-in-law is an awesome writer, an amazing friend, and one hot momma. She tagged me in her post with the same title thus not only giving me blog fodder it also saved me the trouble of having to come up with a title for the post. It’s stupid as hell but a lot of times I stop writing a blog post because a decent title escapes me and while you aren’t supposed to judge a book by the cover everyone does so I was rescued this time.

Now I’m supposed to tell you seven things about me that are awesome.  This is really hard because everything about me is pretty fucking amazing so I spent most of today pondering everything about me that is great. I have decided that I’m going to just list the seven most cool, nifty and sinfully awesome things:

1. Monsters, Inc.: Any movie that has the following exchange is just awesome w/o having to discuss it:  “What happens when the whistle blows in five minutes.” …. “I….get a time out?” …. “EVERYONE GOES TO LUNCH! Which means the scare floor will be…??” … “Painted????”

2.  Horses: There is not an item on the planet more spiritual and amazing than the horse. Where would humans be without the horse??? They have built our cities and fought our wars. In this day and age you probably think of them as toys of the rich but they are not. They are willing, precious companions that deserve respect and adoration. And they are the most kissable creatures on the planet.

3. Wrath: Of the seven deadly sins this is the most amazing sin. You can list all seven sins and each and every one of them goes right the hell back to wrath. And I love wrath. I’m gonna stab you just for reading this cos it’s wrathful and I like it.

4. Darth Vader -vs- Han Solo: Here’s a snapshot into the fucked-up my brain is. I was seven when Star Wars came out (I KNOW I’m old shut up) and saw all of the original three movies in the theatre (and the other 3 that came out later … meh)….anyway I remember EVEN as a seven year old little girl with no real grasp on sexuality or power wondering who would be the better person to be married to…… Han Solo or Darth Vader.  Solo = good guys, smart ass remarks, and Chewie as yer dog or Darth Vader = evil, ultimate power, and cool flowy robes.  Still a quandary.

5. Metallica: A laundry list of amazing songs and James Hetfield…the only hot blonde man on the planet….MMMMMMM

6. Boxer Doggies:  No real description is needed here. Boxer + Doggie = beyond awesome.

7. The Shit My Family Says: Oh you don’t think this could be awesome…ok…here’s Actual Quotes From Idiots I’m Related To: “I’ve been cooking for two days and you want to eat a goddamn polluted fish!” ….. “We’re talking about killing animals and you want to talk about goddamn spaghetti!!!” …. “My husband gave me a ring…and a baby!!” ….. “Ya know, this is Sunday and this is the day you are usually a really big bitch so I am probably not going to talk to you.”…… “So the cop told me she wanted to look in my trunk and I told her she was a fat bitch and she arrested me! Can you believe it???”…..”I can’t go with you guys today because I have some…..activities planned.”  (I didn’t make any of this crap up.)

I’m supposed to tag other bloggers but I don’t know any…..Cos my life sucks.