55 - this won't hurt a bit

"Let's get started. You won't feel a thing, now lay back and try to relax."
"Ah, um, okay. Just try to make it quick."
"Are you ready?"
"Oh, right, like you can ever really prepare for this."
"Okay, take a deep breath and close your eyes."
"Just get it over with already."
Ah, dental exams.

HA, I WIN...neener neener

I think I have SOLVED our little cat-on-the-counter problem. First I should say that the way our living room is shaped and where our cable is at, there are only so many options for where things can go. That being the case, we have our loveseat couch underneath an short overhang counter that's next to our couch. It's like one of the bar-type counters, but it's too short to actually warrant bar stools.

I tried to move the furniture around, and that just DID NOT work. And having the loveseat underneath the counter was just an invitation for the cat to walk right up there and get his little beastly nose into my cooking. NOT ACCEPTABLE. I did a little internet research, and saw a lot about putting aluminum foil on counters, because cats hate the sound/feel of it. Well, that worked the FIRST time. Little devil. So I hunted down some double-sided carpet tape, and taped the crap out of my counter. The next morning after the institution of the tape (which pisses Husband off, as he can no longer just leave his glass laying around. HA. It's a two-fer) I saw four little paw prints on one side of the counter, but that's it.

And the tape has been on the counter for over 24 hours, and there's only those four little prints. NO MORE! And I've seen my little devil-cat come right up to the counter, think about it, and change his mind. HA! I WIN!

the 55 that just wouldn't come

I've had about 5 false starts and I just don't think the fiction muse will be visiting me today.

In other news, it turns out we adopted a pyscho kitty. Oh, and let's not forget about the attitude this kitty is sporting. But it certainly is keeping us entertained! He's still a little love whore, but now his personality is coming out. You should see the way he tears around this apartment! You'd think he was cracked out on catnip.

Ok, back to my glass of wine and watching the girl's team getting torn up on Donald's Apprentice. Oooh....this is gonna' be good...

New addition...

On the hunt...

So, here's the new family addition! His name upon adoption was "Mr. Winky", which we are phasing out in favor of "Jiminy"...as in jiminy cricket. I wanted to name him Jimmy, as in Jimmy Choo, because he looks like he's wearing shoes, but first of all, he's an he, and "Jimmy" just didn't really work when I tried it out. I couldn't get him to just sit still for a picture, because that shoelace in the bottom right of the picture needed to be ATTACKED.

We adopted him on Sunday, and just got him last night after he got fixed. He's an incredibly loving little guy, although he woke me up at 4:30 am to cuddle. That's going to have to be addressed, because this gnome doesn't function well with a 4:30 am wakeup call.

Anyways, just had to share...now send the love!

oh how I love halloween...

In an effort to save money, Husband & I decided to hit up the local Blockbuster for date night. In the spirit of the holiday, we decided to forego the Chris Rock video in lieu of seasonal choices. What did we get? Well, we got 2 choices: Dracula (the one with Wynona Rider) and Dawn of the Dead.

Why do I think I can handle scary movies? I don't know. I! CAN'T! Which is why I happen to be typing this while the movie is on. I can't just sit still and watch it. It's freakin' me out! And yes, I realize it's a stupid movie, but I grew up in a very Footloose type of environment, and movies get to me. Oh, I can handle religious type freaky movies, but that's about it.

So this is the beginning of about a month of getting through scary movies. Wish me luck.

The way to this gnome's heart

Husband has gone above and beyond. First, he looked at me on Thursday and said he wanted to clean the apartment this weekend so I could enjoy my weekend and not worry about it. This alone is an incredible thing. But add to that his getting me a beautiful fall flower arrangement (picture will be forthcoming) and going to the grocery store yesterday, and all that adds up to one extremely happy wife. And I think we all know that when there's a happy wife, there's a happy husband.

This happy wife is going to go enjoy her Saturday.

feeling a little chatty...

It's the end of a very long week, and I've just ingested probably 10 ounces of wine (yes, I'm being obnoxious: keeping a food journal, counting calories) and I'm feeling CHATTY. I don't really have anything to say, which is a first for me. Usually I only post when I have something to say, because I hate it when people just ramble on and on. So I'll try not to. I guess all I really want to say is "HI!".

Oh, and that I did a really I'm-the-bigger-person thing tonight. See, I had this roommate during one year of lawschool, and she was the 'bad' roommate. There were three of us living together, and while 2 of us sort of maybe ganged up on the 'bad' roommate (oh, STOP JUDGING, you would have done the SAME thing), she certainly played her part. Anyways, I decided to embrace adulthood and I wrote her a very nice, "I was terrible" sort of email. And I really tried to make sure it was sincere.

Anyways, I guess that's about it. Hope everyone is doing swell out there in blog-land.

time for 55 again...

"Sit down" he instructed. "Well, I've done a little checking into our records, and we have encountered a little problem." Shit, she thought, there's no way around this. "What do you have you to say for yourself?" She rolled her eyes; "I guess there's no excuse, I just got carried away...Prada's just so expensive."

a Fiona Apple a day keeps the blues away...

Fiona Apple

All I have to say is this: you all need to rush out and BUY THIS CD IMMEDIATELY!!! It is absolutely, positively fabulous, and well worth the wait. It's so fabulous to have you back, Fiona!

Homicidal maniac, courtesy of Target

Today I set out to do a little shopping - but not just any shopping, it was an on-a-mission type of shopping day. I was out to get magazine storage boxes, like this, in an effort to have a lovely, Martha-Stewart-ly organized apartment.

I started my quest at TJ Maxx, thinking that they might have some for a decent price. Well that was a no-go, so I decided to go to Ross (like TJ Maxx), because they usually have a bigger 'home' area. They had 2 different options, but they were clunky and I want sleek, non-clunky one. Let me also mention that Ross was crazy busy, to the point where I was almost at the end of my patience and nerves.

Since this particular Ross is right next to a Target, I decided to go check out Target. Oh, I am a stupid, stupid girl. First of all, this Target is always completely crazy and a pig sty. Seriously, I've never been in there where there haven't been nearly all the carts filled with merchandise to be re-shelved. No, I'm not kidding. And this Target is not in a bad area of Los Angeles. I don't get it. But today I forgot that this Target makes me crazy every time I go in there, and this time was no exception. Not only was it complete chaos, but apparently, OCTOBER 2ND IS THE DAY TO GO SCHOOL-SUPPLY/DORM ROOM SHOPPING. OMG. What a total and complete nightmare. And apparently, TARGET doesn't carry/sell those magazine organizers. Of course, because that would make sense. It took everything in me under the heading of decency not to yell "get the hell out of my way!" at the top of my lungs while waiving my arms crazily about.

In any event, I got out without losing my mind or committing manslaughter (which undoubtedly would have fallen under the "heat of passion" category). Apparently, I still have some rage issues left over from the bar. Who knew?

Welcome to the neighborhood!

There's a new kid on the block, and everyone should go check HER out. She's one very cool cat, so go and enjoy!


This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that her current post is about me. I'm serious about the fact that she's groovy and you all ought to become fans.

55-lunchtime-fry-day

The following in no way was influence by the great chocolate-fudgy-coffee-cake-of-addiction that happened to be in the office this morning for breakfast. And my constant eating thereof. Just so we're clear.


It was called 'The Great Chocolate Downfall of Mrs. Soother', the type of incident that caused moral people to gossip and stare. Mrs. Soother's good intentions had gone awry; she'd nibbled her way to the highest reaches of company infamy. When she yelled "3,000 pounds is the limit, stay off!", people sprinted for the stairs.

Letter to the man who prances around in his Speedo...

Sir:

Look, I'm sure you're a very nice man. When I saw you prancing around the apartment complex wearing only your cobalt-blue speedo and tennis shoes, sans towel, I looked the other way. Sure, it gave me the shivers, seeing as how you are my father's age and haven't an ounce of body fat, but I thought hey, it's Los Angeles, to each their own.

But when you took it a step further and started hiking your speedo down so I can see your CRACK while sunbathing, this becomes completely and ridiculously disgusting. Seriously, sir, your ASS CRACK is kissing the air. Not only are you already knocking on melanoma's door, but when your speedo abuse starts to infringe on one of the true joys in my life - namely, lounging by the pool on a Sunday afternoon enjoying a corona, this becomes personal.

How about we make a deal? You can continue to sashay your way around the apartment wearing your teensy-weensy cobalt-blue speedo and tennis shoes and I will just look the other way. But this business of pushing down your speedo so your ass crack is exposed simply has to STOP! Please! Stop, for the love of god!

Thanks, I'm glad we had this chat.

55 FRY-DAY

A singular dream - what fixation he possessed! His whole life devoted to impressing and winning her back with such singular focus! And what potential for utter desolation. Straightening his shoulders, he resolved not give up; he would confront the future and all it's terrors with steel resolve. If only he'd known what was to come.



So perhaps some of you will recognize that I just finished listening to The Great Gatsby on CD during commuting to work, in which I was totally and completely enchanted. And don't give me any crap about the fact that this wasn't a complete original...this is just what was swimming around my head and I think I had to purge it to be able to move on. In any event, it is what it is. So there.

Oh, sad day 'tis this...

So, not only did I find out some very sad news in my family (no deaths, just sadness), but I also got some tragic news from the spca joint. Apparently, we can't adopt Danny because of our 'pet history'. Let me explain, for those of you rushing to judge me & Husband straight away as bad pet keepers. Before we moved out to Los Angeles, we had 2 pets: a German Shepherd and a black stray cat.

First, the dog, Waya: when we moved out here, our apartment did not accept dogs. Further, where we lived in Michigan before moving here was on 10 acres in the woods, where Waya could assert her dominance over neighborhood deer, etc. Since Husband & I knew there would be NO WAY we'd be able to buy a house and were unable to find an apartment with a big enough yard, we thought it would be cruel to move a dog used to Michigan weather and wide open spaces and to California weather and a small apartment. Not to mention NO DEER. So, we did a lot of searching and found her a home with a wonderful woman who breeds German Shepherds and had plenty of room for her to run around on. Further, she knew Waya, and lived just down the street from where we lived, so it would be less of an adjustment for her. And yes, this completely devastated Husband, but we honestly felt we were doing what was best.

Now, the cat: our cat, Kennedy, had liver shunts. We couldn't afford the $4,000 surgery to find out whether the shunts were inside or outside the liver and whether they would be able to fix them, but suffice it to say, Kennedy was a very sick cat. The vet gave us no hope as to his survival, and thought the best option would be to send him to kitty heaven. We really didn't want to do that, but he was so sick that we thought driving him out in the move, being in a car for 4 days would probably do quite a number on him. So, my parents graciously took him in and provided him with a comfortable life until he went on to kitty heaven.

So understand my indignation when the spca woman told me that we are not acceptable to them as adoptive parents, and that we will never be able to adopt from them, and tough shit. We had already twice explained our pet history to the spca quite indepthly, and I went over it again with the woman, and she did her utmost to make me feel like a complete ass, saying "well, some of us will go to great length to keep our animals." THANKS, YOU HEARTLESS, CRUEL WENCH.

So the long and short of it is that we won't be adopting Danny. *sniff*. I had a good cry about it and am now just sad, but hopefully he finds a great home, soon. Husband is at work for another 2 hours, and I'm really not looking forward to telling him. Hopefully we'll be able to find the right cat for us, but I'm just really sad tonight.

I think it's time to hit the wine.

And for any of you about to post a mean comment, just DON'T.

Hardy har har

This morning as I was shaving, the song "Welcome to the Jungle" popped in my head. Thank you, GNR.

Lesson of the day

Good: cubes of extra-firm tofu sauteed so that they are nice and firm on the outside and soft on the inside.

Bad: cubes of extra-firm tofu sauteed to within an inch of their lives, not terribly unlike corn nuts.

OH, Danny boy!

Ever since we lost our kitty (he was a stray with serious liver problems...*sniff*...) we've really been wanting to get another. Not to replace our kitty, but because we really want another animal, and our apartment doesn't allow dogs. And besides, I'm a cat person.

This morning I went to get my hair cut...(which turned out quite nicely, and when I'm satisfied with my haircut, you know it's a good cut, because I'm NEVER happy with my hair. Really - I have really thick, obnoxious hair that for some reason, 95% of the hairdressers (is that the appropriate term?) are completely and totally unable to cut. It's ridiculous.)

Anyways, during the haircut, I called Husband to come and meet me and we'd have lunch and catch the movie Corpse Bride (I'm a *HUGE* Johnny Depp fan - you know how couples have their list of 3 non-realistic alternative options? I only have 1 on my list - Mr. Depp.). We had a lovely lunch outside, and then decided to meander into a nearby mall because we have this little tradition of going to this kitty adoption center (an SPCA joint) so I can get my "kitty fix".

We get to this SPCA place (which is in a mall), and there's where we discover Danny. He seemed like a quiet cat, fairly mellow, and the little tag with his information said he was about 2 years old. We bent down beside him in his cage (which could fit a few people quite comfortably, btw) and I asked him if he wanted to come home with us...to which he let out the softest, cutest little "mew" (it wasn't a full "meow"). All of a sudden, the "kitty fix" turned into Husband looking to me and saying "so, what do you think..." I say "about what?" He says "about adopting him?". WHA????

As Husband is filling out the application, we go inside Danny's cage (the size of a small room) to pet him and see if there's a connection. It turns out that Danny is about the sweetest cat alive! He's incredibly affectionate and sweet and just the cutest little attention whore you've ever seen! He's a fairly small/thin cat - his paws are very little and so cute! Oh, and he's gray tiger stripe.

They said they liked everything about us, but that there's one potential snag: apparently, Danny has a brother, Armstrong, who is a little sick. They're going to be doing some bloodwork on Armstrong to see if it's something genetic or hereditary...because they don't want us getting a sick cat. We'll find out in about a week whether or not we get to bring Danny home. And all this might not turn out, but I just had to share because I'm super excited at the prospect of having a furry little creature again!

It's still Friday in my time zone...

I know I've been slacking, but here's my 55 Fiction-Friday, for better or for worse...

Meandering through the crowds, she suddenly caught his eye. Of all the inadvertent luck, she thought. "Hey - do you think you could..." "No", she cut in abruptly. How could he - no, what on earth was he thinking? Didn't he know how wrong he was? How heartless, to confront her about the cell phone bill now?

I heart Martha

Since I am now the proud parent of a TiVo system, I have been able to record lots of fun stuff to watch when I get home in the evenings. It's been fabulous.

So in addition to recording Conan and Ellen, I've been recording Martha. And I just have to say, I HEART MARTHA. I've never been a huge fan of hers - I was more ambivalent; I'd buy her magazines, but she seemed like one of those women for whom all other women feel inadequate in a 'housewifely' way. Especially me! But all that has changed after seeing her show. Oh, sure, I'd never want to have to actually exhibit any of those 'housewifely' skills (what else do you call them? 'domestic diva' skills?) in front of her, but she's so much fun and down to earth on her show! I just thinks she's great!

Seriously, it's one of the most entertaining & learning-filled shows (the stuff she shows is stuff that even I could do). If you haven't watched it yet, you need to! It's fabulous! Go, go now and enjoy! It certainly mitigates any grrrrrr-ishness that occurs from LA traffic.