The Advantages of Having A Cat That Likes You

So some of you may or may not know that I have recently acquired another feline child for my household. Oh crap...did I just say feline child? (cue crazy cat lady music now). Ok...weird. Anyways, my BFF Janette's cat Darcy didn't handle the whole baby-gets-more-attention-than-me situation and started doing naughty things such as peeing on baby's stuff. So one of them had to go and it wasn't the baby.

The only reason I accepted Darcy was because I knew Millie wouldn't issue an all out attack/assault like she did with the last poor homeless cat I took in since Millie and Darcy had been litterbox-mates when Janette and I lived together a few years back. As most or all of you know though, Millie can be...well...a satanic evil brat. For instance, she scratched me on my neck after I vacuumed her nasty cat bed and then tried to pick her up and put her on it. How could I be so cruel...

Darcy is a nice kitty though...and it's rather pleasant having a nice kitty that likes you 100% of the time. So, here are the advantages of having a cat that likes you (in no particular order):

1. Darcy has no claws, and you know how cats like to do that kneading thing? Well, if I lay on my stomach, Darcy will do that on my back. It's like getting a massage. Conclusion: cats that like you will give you a massage.

2. Darcy has gray hair and she sheds a lot. She sleeps with me and when I noticed the spot she was laying was starting to turn gray after a couple of days, I cleaned it and then put a towel on that spot. She always lays on the towel now. Conclusion: cats that like you know where their place is and stay there! (and they won't ruin your bedding)

3. Darcy comes when I call her. Conclusion: cats that like you come when you call them.

4. My backyard has somehow become Mecca for stray or outside cats in the neighborhood. If Darcy sees them through the back door, there is a moment of silence while she evaluates the threat and then if they get too close, she hisses and bats at the door. Conclusion: cats that like you will try to protect you, even if they have no claws.

5. If I pick Darcy up, she lets me hold her and then gently meows when she wants down. There is no flailing and panicking and scratching just because I picked her up. Seriously Millie, what do you think I'm going to do? Drop you? Cats land on their feet dum-dum! And really, after 12 years why can't I just pick you up? Ugh! Conclusion: cats that like you don't act like they are meeting their death just because you picked them up.

And just so you know I am not a crazy cat lady, when Millie dies, I will not have her creamated and put her ashes in a box to be displayed in the living room. She will be buried in the ground to give back to the earth all the grass that she eats and then promptly throws up.

What A Crazy Random Happenstance!

Here my friends you will find the story of the most intersting and exciting thing that has happened to me all...summer...long. :)


This is the story of how Aibi saved my life.

So as the ENTIRE world knows, Tuesday night was the premier of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (actually Wednesday at 12:01, but whatever). Of course being the nerdy nerd that I am, I got tickets to go with a few of my friends a couple of weeks ago. Sadly Aibi didn't find out until it was too late and when she tried to get tickets to go with us, it was sold out. Boo! Hiss!
Well, Tuesday night came and I drive to the theater. I go to retrieve my ticket but the machine isn't accepting my card or my confirmation number so I go to the girl at the ticket counter. I hand her my paper and she says, "Oh, this is for a different theater." WHAT? "It's too late to try and buy a ticket huh?", I say. "Yeah...we are completely sold out. You can try to see if anyone has an extra ticket that they want to sell." I bet you can guess how incredibly easy that was going to be... Can you imagine how bummed I was to have waited the entire summer for this one event only to find out that I actually can't go? (Insert sad pouty face here that is trying really hard to look like it doesn't care...cause that's what my face looked like). So I shuffled off back to my car while everyone else was swarming into the theater and thought "Well, I guess I'll just go home...cause I'm not going to go see it by myself."
On my way home I thought maybe they would refund my $10.50 if I called the theater and gave them my confirmation number. So I did but they told me I would have to come to the theater. Ok. It's not like I had big plans...anymore. Maybe someone else would find joy in being able to see the midnight showing. When I pull into the theater though I notice that there aren't as many cars as I expected.

I feel I should pause here and explain the differences of the two theaters. The one I thought I had tickets for, the first theater, was on Legacy and 75 (for those not familiar with DFW demographics...it's a nice area). The second theater, the one where I had my ticket was on Spring Valley and 75...aka "the ghetto". When I realize where I am, I understand why there aren't so many cars...kids (most kids) from the ghetto aren't going to go to a midnight showing of Harry Potter. Yeah, they'll see it, but they aren't foaming at the mouth to see it the MINUTE it comes out.

Okay, so I go up to the girl at the ticket counter and ask, "Is the midnight show sold out?" and she gives me this look like "Yeah right" and says, "Uh...no." So I tell her to hold on a minute before she refunds me my money and I call...AIBI! Cause remember? She couldn't get tickets to go with us. I'm standing there thinking, "I am so smart! I am going to make Aibi so happy that she can go now!" Right. Because Aibi has no other friends besides ME...uh huh. (Please feel free to roll your eyes as I realize how self-centered I am...)
So I call her and leave her a message telling her where I am and how it is her good fortune that the show isn't sold out. Then she calls me back and tells me, "Um...I'm already at that theater." "What? Really?" (I think she's joking with me). "Yeah, and I'm looking right at you." And there is Aibi...with another friend of hers. The whole time I thought she was sitting at home...sad...but no, she just called someone else and got them to go with her. And now it was Aibi who made it possible for me to go.

Cheesy huh? But it's true you guys! It's like one of those stories where someone loses their CTR ring and then prays to find it and they do!

Ok...you can all go throw up now, but that's my story and I'm sticking to it. Aibi saved my life...the end.

Just For You...Because You Are My Friends

This is for all my friends...cause they've been there for me like no other this week...and last week...and well, all the time.

Juicebox Hero

Yesterday, I went to pick up my 7 yr. old nephew Sabian to spend the night with me. We were in the car on our way to my place and I gave him my CD case and told him, "Look through there and choose a CD you think looks good and we'll listen to it." Well, of course being a 7 year old boy, he chooses the soundtrack to Spiderman 2. Of course he knows no songs on the CD, so I tell him to look for the other Spiderman CD. As he's flipping through them, he sees my Foreigner CD and says, "Hey! I have this one! It's Cold As Ice. Can we listen to this one?" Sure. We listen and sing along to Cold As Ice and Sabian even plays the air guitar for me. Quite entertaining. So then I ask him, "Wanna listen to my favorite song on this CD?" He says yes so I turn it to #8, Jukebox Hero. As we're singing along and he's learning the chorus, he does a fist pump in the air everytime it says "hero" Two fist pumps, "he-ro"...completely out of tune but oh so much fun.

When I drop him off today, I told him, "Tell your dad what song we both like." And Sabian says, "Juicebox Hero".

I love that kid.

Yeah, It's Pretty Hot

Hot Springs, Arkansas that is. At least it is during the summer anyways. I know Alison promised everyone that Erica or I would give a play by play, but I won't because you would be bored. Okay, I'll give you a sampling play by play: I took a nap, I watched TV, we played cards, I sat outside and put my feet in the water, I watched TV, we ate, etc... See? Not very exciting, but it was perfect.

For most vacations, I like to plan as much as possible and try to cram in as many sights as I can. You never know when or if you'll ever go back to that place and you don't want to miss out on anything. That is usually my philosophy...not this time though. The point of this vacation was to de-stress after a wonderful and crazy school year. So this time, I didn't clean my apartment before I left, I didn't plan any sights I wanted to see, we went to Wal-Mart more than any other place besides the cabin, and I did whatever I wanted with no internet, e-mail, cell phone reception, blow dryer, make-up, or boys. It was very lovely and at first it was hard to relax, but I got the hang of it pretty soon.

We were also on a mullet/redneck/white trash watch and we didn't have to look far. We saw two mullets, 873 mobile homes, one very redneck house with a collection of beer cans underneath the porch (see previous post for that pic) and a tarp for a third of their roof, 93 garage sales with an assortment of old clothes, garden gnomes, and all sorts of trinkets I didn't get a glimpse of as we drove by, and a few friendly faces in a park we affectionately named Meth Park.

There was just one part that didn't particularly appeal to me...the insects and arachnids. More specifically the arachnids. I have an intense fear of spiders. I mean what creature really needs eight legs? Why can't six, four, or just two suffice? Guck! They creep me out to no end. Anyway, a few of them decided to grace our presence Friday night as we sat on the (thank heavens) screened in porch. These things were so freakin' big, they must be descendants of Aragog. But then Saturday night wasn't much better when we had the porch light on and every gnat and moth and flying thing within a 95 mile radius was attracted to it. I literally couldn't tear my eyes away. I watched in horror as they covered the wall and the screen. I finally just had to go inside because it was mentally unhealthy for me to be seeing that. And then there are the silent unseen insects that burrow down inside your skin and make you the most miserable person on the face of the earth...yes, chiggers. And boy do they love me. I hate them.

But aside from the bugs, I had a blast laughing, eating, napping, eating, talking, eating, reading, eating, playing cards, eating, watching TV, and eating. So thank you Alison, Erica, Aibi, and Amy for coming with on the most unproductive weekend ever...I'd do it again in a heartbeat!

So...

I have been out of the blogging world for a bit because I went out of town to visit family and decided to spend more time with them than with the computer. Do you blame me? If you do, I don't care. If you don't then I do care about you and if you keep reading you will find some funny blogs to make your heart happy once again.

Just so you know I am speaking the truth, here are some pictures of my neice and nephew:

Millie Loves the Sunshine

Hey, if everyone else out there can post pictures of their kids and blog about how incredibly adorable they are, why can't I do the same with my baby? I mean, I know she is Satan's spawn and all but she's just so dang cute!

Mushy Cards

I'm just not a fan of mushy cards. I never have been. I mean, what is the chance that some blurb writer at Hallmark will know exactly what I am thinking and feeling and be able to convey that in a meaningful and cohesive way to my friends and loved ones? It's just not likely to happen. Mushy feelings can't be generalized and sold mass market and still be personal. Instead, I always go for the funny cards. What better way to tell someone that you love them, or that you are happy for them, or hope they are feeling better soon, or thank them than to make them laugh? Everybody likes to laugh. If they don't, they will once they start because if you're laughing at something, you are obviously enjoying it. So, I very rarely (if ever) give or receive a mushy card, and when I am the recipient of a mushy card, I usually just read it and think, "Hmmm...those are some very nice words that someone else wrote." That is if I read the card at all. I usually skim over the outside and open it up to see what the card giver wrote on the inside because that is what I really want to see: what the card giver has to say to me, not what Hallmark thinks I want to hear.

On a separate note, my sister and I have been at this little game for years that I like to call, "Who can make the other one cry", and we do this using cards for the various holidays. For example, on my sister's 16th birthday, I got her a card with all of this mushy stuff on the front and then when you open it up, there is a tissue glued inside. In front of all of her friends, she read the outside, cried, and then opened it up and ripped the tissue out to use it, giving me a glare while I laughed uncontrollably. I won the game that year.

This year, she won. I got my Valentine's card from her and of course it was a mushy one...blah, blah, blah. The note on the inside, "Love you bunches and miss you tons", meant more than the stuff about sisters being friends printed on the outside. That wasn't what made me cry though. The other card that was stuffed inside the envelope from my two adorable neices did:

Even though the year isn't over and I still have a shot at winning the game, it's going to be hard to top that.

Why I Love Old People

I have always loved old people. I don't know what makes me love them so. I wasn't raised by my grandparents. There were no elderly people in my house growing up. I never worked with the elderly. It has always been a mystery to me why I am so drawn to them, and this week I gave it a little thought and came up with some pretty good reasons (or so I think) of why I love old people:

1. Old people think I'm cute. Not everyone does (including myself) and therefore this is very flattering to me. I could love them alone for this fact but please read on as there are more.

2. Old people think I'm smart. Now, I'm no computer whiz or anything but I know how to send an e-mail and how make a power point presentation and I can even make a double-sided copy on the copy machine in 2 seconds flat. These skills impress old people beyond belief and after I present them, I am ALWAYS rewarded with the comment, "You are so smart!" It's great, I love it.

3. Old people (mainly women) are excellent cooks. Seriously, have you ever had a truly horrendous meal made by an old person. Aside from my BFF's experience with green peas in green jello and other interesting food mixtures from her very own grandmother, it is rare to find an old lady that doesn't know how to cook...especially in the south. :)

4. Old people use words that no one really ever uses in common language. One time an elderly lady told me and a few of my single friends that in order to catch a man, we needed to "Perty yourselves up, you know, put some rouge on your cheeks!" Rouge, I would have never thought of that! Watch out boys...here I come!

5. Old people have an excuse for everything they do or do not want to do...they're old. I'm too old to work anymore. I'm too old to drive anymore, why don't you drive me? I'm too old to mow the lawn. I'm too old to care what other people think so I'll say what's on my mind. I'm old, I can wave my cane around instead of walk with it (gotta love Pres. Hinckley!)

6. It is socially acceptable for old people to do some of my most favorite things. Genealogy, needlework, play cards, watch Antiques Roadshow, apply for tickets to be on Antiques Roadshow, or have antiques period. Yes, I am a grandma at heart.

7. All sweets are "too rich" so in turn, I get them if I happen to be sitting close by during meal time. Yay for me!

8. This has by far got to be my favorite. No matter how early I manage to drag my lazy butt out of bed, they are ALWAYS up before me. ALWAYS. This is because of their strict schedule that is followed daily: They wake up around 4:00 am, go eat breakfast at Owens or IHOP and shoot the breeze with their old buddies. Then go get their grocery shopping done at 7:00am, go home and watch the morning news, and then take a nap. After nap time, it's time for lunch and then they do the old people stuff I love so much like genealogy, needlework, or putter around in the garage (I've never really had a garage I could putter around in, but one of these days I will and when I do, dog-gone-it, I am going to putter my little heart out). Then they have dinner around 4:00pm, watch some Antiques Roadshow and Wheel of Fortune (yeah, I like that show too). Then there's a little time to read a few pages of a book that you've read a thousand times before drifting off to sleep at the late hour of 7:00 or 8:00pm. That's the life isn't it?

9. Gardens. Don't old people have to loveliest gardens? I have successfully killed every plant I ever purchased, or that was ever given to me. But someday when I am old I will be blessed with the knowledge of vegetation...someday.

10. The ones that have made it through the storms of life with their spouses, truly love each other...probably even more than when they were first married. And here is where I get nostaligic. One of my favorite memories of my Johnson grandparents is during the holidays. My Grandpa Johnson was a die-hard Cowboys fan and would always go watch the game after the family festivities on Thanksgiving or Christmas. My grandmother would always stay in the other room and chat and visit. Whenever the Cowboys would score, Grandpa would get up and go give Grandma a kiss so that "she could keep track of the score". Really, I just think it was an excuse to share something he loved with someone he loved.

So, there you have it. That's why I love old people!

The End.