Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.


There's a slogan in here somewhere-

You've got chocolate in my peanut butter!
You've got peanut butter in my chocolate!

Randy & Jason Sklar and Law & Order?

If only it were a Briscoe episode. But honestly? I don't think I could ask for a niftier evening.

Sklars, playin' it straight. Why, why has nobody mentioned this before?

Well I'll be...

Not only did Fat Elvis come strolling into my room voluntarily last night, but he also slept On. My. BED. Until about 5:00 this morning. Granted, we went to bed after midnight, and then he decided to start a growling match with Alice at a quarter after six, it's all good. Why? Because he slept. With me. On my bed. Muhahahahaha

I have to call the shelter lady back today and tell her we just can't take another longhaired, sweetly dispositioned, ORANGE kitty. Even though the only reason he's there is because his 85 year old caretaker died. Because we simply have no room. But when I depart the chateau? Oh, I am taking FE with me. (I bargained with Silent Bob, but I might very well be taking her with me too. Muhaha.)


Additional Pools

After observing (mostly by merely sitting inside my house, because they? Are loud.) my neighbors and their "posse" I'd like to start a few more pools.

1. Number of days until toddler runs into the street

Variables will include whether or not toddler is in danger of being hit by car (i.e. narrow miss) or actually injured or stolen, and reason for parents not watching the child (i.e. high, fucking, too busy fighting, or "I thought you were watching her")

2. Guess the number of dudes paying the rent this month

3. The number of breakups and subsequent makeups during a one week span (and number of boyfriends involved)

4. How long till the cops discover something illegal in the garage that shady is "renting".

5. How many times the neighbors call the cops in a given month.

It's not that I want to be up in her business. I really don't. But I can't sit inside my own house and watch TV without hearing them screeching outside my window. And I don't care if she fucks the entire town AND visiting baseball teams during the seventh inning stretch. Her coochie is her business. But again, see above. I feel worst for her kids, because I can't PROVE that she's dealin/using. I can't prove that the guys over there are dealers. And they're usually outside with the kids, but they're not paying attention, and she goes running down the driveway- all I hear is "MAYA! GET UP HERE!" and one of these days the kid IS going to get hit. It's not like I live on a quiet street, It's a fairly busy artery- the main road to 2 schools and 2 industrial parks- and NOBODY does the 35MPH speed limit. Argh.

Twelllllllve Minutes.

Roll that off your tongue, 'k? Twelllllllllllve minutes. You can do a lot in twelve minutes. You can paint your toenails, walk a mile (give or take), get a good jump on supper, or, if you're me, try to hang yourself with the telephone cord.


Because I worked at the Codger Corral today. And I got the phonecall from The Pink Panther today.

The Pink Panther used to live at the Corral, and is so named because she always (always, allllways) wore the same. Pink. Sweater. Every. Damned. DAY. Every day. And Elvis forbid you take the damn thing to wash it and not have it back by the time she got dressed the next day. Every. Day. And she was a talker. At great length. And not an interesting "here are neat stories about my wild life and childhood, and did I mention that I slept with Douglas Fairbanks Junior?" talker, but a "I could whine the enamel off your teeth, if given enough time" talker. She moved in March, and I know it's mean, but there was indeed a countdown for when her last day was. Aaack.

Where was I? Oh. Pink Panther Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.

So she's been gone for a few months. Lives with her daughter now. Her daughter? Just as barmy as she is. And they're all super religious. (And fucking CHEAP too. "Mom just got her hair done six months ago, what does she need it done for again now?" Cheap.) Anyway... Apparently the Pink Panther calls in on a semi-regular basis to bend the ear of whomever answers the phone. Today's conversation started with her asking about the multitudes who have died over the past month or so. And included "How many people do you think died since I started living there?" "Oh, panther, I couldn't say for sure, but quite a few- given the place we are and all." and eventually segued into a ten minute discourse on her husband, brother, General Macarthur, World War II and the gem of the week from her daughter- "Mom, you're the one who killed Daddy." (Which sure, she may have talked the man into an early grave, but you don't actually say that to your own mother. You just don't.)

By minute 5 I was trying desperately to catch the attention of my mom or Superdonna, to no avail. By minute 9 I was softly beating my head against the desk. By minute 11 I nearly managed to get the phone cord around my neck, until I finally broke in with "Gee Panther, it was really great to talk with you, but there are people up here at my desk, and I've got to take care of them!" (Which there were- employees, who were trying to get me off the phone) And she STILL wanted to keep chatting.


(And I know. Someday I am going to be that woman, and pester the living shit out of anyone who will answer my calls, which is WHY I let her ramble as long as she did. But guhhhhh. Enough!)

And apparently a new boy is moving in next door. He pulled up all Clampett Style with his shit strapped to his truck. We're establishing a pool to see how long he lasts. I'm betting till the back rent is paid, then he'll split/get kicked out. Actually there was a posse of "rent boys" (well, if the term fits in the literal sense...) and connections tonight- makes me ever so glad I'll be in the house alone tonight. Fie. (Though I wouldn't want to leave the house alone either, lest they decide to test their screen slashing and electronics boosting prowess.)



(I know, I know. But I haven't blogged in a few days, I've got a lot of something-or-other in me.)

Attention residents of Clearfield, Jefferson, Indiana, Cambria, Blair, and Elk Counties: If you ride an ATV, you're going to die. If your kids get near one? They're going to die too. Even if it's off, the keys are in the next county, and the battery has been removed, the thing will still flip over and crush your children.

In other words, "yer gawn die 'f youse git upside 'n'dem tree-weel'rs. Yer kids is gawn die too, n'matter 'f they war'n helmets 'r naw"

I simply don't know how to state that any more clearly. And now that is out of the way, can we go ahead and just make a box on the front page of the Courier-Express that says "Number of Idiots Culled by ATVs Today" and change the number as necessary, so we get some real news stories? While I feel sorry for the families affected, honestly, you should fucking know better by now. It's kinda like smoking, folks. You know it's not healthy/safe, but you took little baby Jeddro on your 4 wheeler at 50 miles an hour without a helmet anyway? Bite me. I want to read about Trashy Lake, not your personal paean to Darwin.

And WTAJ, I suggest the same for you. Can we just assume that there will be a daily injury/death from one of those damned things and simply throw it up in a graphic at the beginning of the newscast, or make it part of the crawl, so I can find out how many arsons, and "he needed killin'"s took place today? Maybe then we can get to the squirrel on water skis just a bit faster, mhmkay?


(PS- I think we should just have our own thermometer graphic in the New Era and on WGAL that has the following designations "Hot" "Hotter'n'ass" "Fucking hot" and "Jesus Christ, Has the sun gone fucking supernova or something?" so we can shut the fuck up about how goddamned hot it is outside. It's SUMMER, morons. It gets fucking hot. Now where's the squirrel on water skis?)

Why it's good to be home

1. Fat. Elvis. 'nuff said.

2. Water that doesn't smell like... well, ass. (that you can cook with! And drink safely! And brush your teeth with!)

2a. Showers. That don't smell like, well, ass.

2b. Bathing in something bigger than a washtub. (Seriously, the "tub" in hell house? MAAAAAYBE 36 inches square with a handheld shower, and the aforementioned skanky water.)

3. More than 4 channels. The TV in Hell House has rabbit ears. it gets CBS, ABC, PBS and the fucked-up religious channel. That's it.

4. I can check my email.

5. Cat fur. Not snakes, furry kitties who missed the jeebus out of me.

6. Sounds. Buggies, traffic, screeching trashy neighbors.

7. A new New Yorker waiting for me.

8. Did I mention that there are no snakes here?

9. You guys.

And the party I mentioned? Wellllll, first I need to mention the effin' AWESOME shirt G. Monkey made for me. Black, baby-doll style, and in curly letters it says
"Surly. It's the new pink." Mere words cannot express how much I love this shirt. Seriously. Love. LOOOOOVE. Lurve. After the shirt-age, we had a cheddar theater, and saw the most godawful, horrible, waste of time, oh-how-i-wish-i-had-the-past-90-minutes-back, inappropriate, bad, horrible movie EVER PRODUCED. The Witch that Came From The Sea See, there are bad movies, that are actually pretty freakin' funny, therefore redeeming themselves, then there are bad movies that are so horrible that there simply are no words to describe their awfulness. The witch... falls into the latter category.

After that, Horsty, The professor, and the professor's friend (more on him in a moment) and I all went to this party that Horsty knew about. Ran into one guy whom I've had a slight crush on (but apparently is schtupping the hostess), and a girl I worked with at Borders- talked with her for a large portion of the evening, and didn't get home till after 3. All told? Very good.

And the professor's friend? When he came to the door at G. Monkey's place, I did a double take. Guy is a dead ringer for CokeheadRob. Well, except that this guy wasn't a douchebag. Spot on, they seriously could have been twins. Uncanny. And very interesting. At some relevant point in the evening he tossed out the euphemism "Vein Hoagie" (which is disgusting, but wholly appropriate to the movie) and I very nearly coughed up a lung, I laughed so hard.

Also, G. Monkey made Professor his shirt this weekend- "Hi, I'm socially inept. Can I touch your hair?" He adored it. Whee!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go watch FOX and pet a cat.

Follow the yellow brick what, now?

More like follow the bright orange construction cones. Heh.

So I'm back. Miss me?

I learned a few things on this trip- the first time I've gone up to hell house on my own. The first? It's much better when you take people with you. Especially when you find a snake on the front porch. Because they'll laugh with you when, for the rest of the time you're there, every time you go out the front door you go "Aah Snake! Aaah! Snake!" in your head. Picture if you will, Sicily, 1910. Wait, wrong intro. Picture if you will, me, on very little sleep, hauling my crap in across the patio, when I look down a few feet in front of me and spy the snake. My brain goes "Guh?" "what is that, and why is it moving? Uhhh.. that's a snake. Snake? SHIT! SNAKE!" Meanwhile it moseyed into a space between the steps and did not reappear for the rest of the week. Didn't stop me from being paranoid. (or going "Aaah snake! Aaah snake!")

The other reason why it's good to have people around? It's quiet there. Really, really quiet. And it's easy to freak yourself out in the middle of the night. When the power has gone off. And it's storming like a mofo. Not that I did that, mind you... but, I thought about it.

But sometimes it's not so good to have the people around, like when I did the "Super Sauce Tour of the Places of my Childhood Memories". Not only would it have bored the shit out of those who would have been along, but it was more than a bit depressing.

I'm sure I mentioned it before, but the house I grew up in is up for sale again. When I drove out past my grandparent's place, I could see it full on (usually, when I go by, it's the other way, and you just get a sideways glance). No curtains in the windows, yard looking like ass, the place is empty. Sad. I was half tempted to stop in this morning and poke around the yard a bit, but the neighbors wouldn't know me anymore, and I wasn't up for explaining why I was there. Trying to tell someone how much work my parents put into that place, that the room that looked into the backyard was mine. My dad built it for me when I was 9. The dining room that never had electricity the entire time we lived there, the year I made the heads of the three stooges out of snow, and sat them on the railing of the deck. How I used to pretend I was the next Tom Brokaw, sitting on the pull-doown steps of the attic. All of that, in a few seconds, breezing down 219. Nobody else would get that.

Or wandering around the union cemetery, trying to find my grandparents and my uncle. I hadn't been there since 1987. The cemetery's small, but my memory was off- it took me a while to find their stones. It's the first time I got to see where Dad's parents are buried. Went to see mom's parents too, one of the first times since Granddad died.

I drove around some. You just don't get anywhere without driving. The ice cream stand we used to go to as kids is closed now. The guy who owned it passed away this year. Maybe next year his son will take over. The B-Line's closed too, the gas station next door, and the road expansion took care of it. But there were good things too- The "candy striped" bridge my bus used to go over every day is still there, and still painted in pastel stripes. The community center's still there, and the park we used to go to in the summertime. They've got much cooler stuff there now.

Mostly I just stayed at the house. I'm sure I surprised the Kesslers and the Corbins, they're used to seeing the truck at the house instead of my car. At least they didn't call the cops. Heh. I kicked back in the front yard, reading, listening to the drone of the small planes landing at the airport over the hill, and thought. I worked on my quilt, and marvelled at how much things have changed. The house looks nothing like it did when I was a child. Granddad's big garden's gone, grassed over a few years before he died, even. Sal's doghouse is gone, and the embankment that used to seem so steep when we were kids, is barely a hill anymore. Even the "pinchy thing" plants by the old barn and garage were less than I remembered. But, strangely enough, the smell of tomato plants still lingers where the cold-frame was.

In all, it was a good week for getting away, for navel-gazing, and escaping the godawful heat here. I want to go back again, maybe in the fall, and bring some people along. Now that I've got the more meaningful things out of the way, I can go and have some fun. And fear not, I promise to be snarky later on or even tomorrow. I've got a rant ready about the 4 tv stations you can pull in up there. (And one of them is the creepy-assed religious channel, aiee!)


Do do do do do...

Mesmerizing, isn't it?

(And I bear no responsibility if the song is in your head for the rest of the night.)

So tonight we're holding a Cheddar Theater, so I'm not leaving for Hell House till Sunday. And what might tonight's movie be? "The Witch That Came From The Sea". G. Monkey and I are making those godawful clown sundaes (with mint chocolate chip ice cream) and turning them into witches, with some froot roll up seawead on the serving platter, and making a few assorted fun shirts for the crew. The professor's getting his "Hi, I'm socially inept... Can I smell your hair?" shirt, G's probably getting her "MARTYR- What have I done for you lately?" shirt, and mine and Horsty's are as yet to be determined.

Also, road testing the Jergens Natural Glow lotion, to see how that works. If it gives me non-orangey color, that looks quasi-natural (because this skin? Does not tan. Period. and fake tanner? Not even remotely appropriate). However, the Idiot Girls recommend it, so... we'll see.

If I don't swing by here tomorrow morning, see y'all in about a week! (assuming the rednecks don't get me, and force me to marry a cousin or something.)


This is the man of my dreams?

Well, actually, yes.

Had a very odd dream involving William Petersen last night. A good dream (involving a shopping mall, grocery cart, and my-house-but-not) , but odd nonetheless. (especially with the fact that I could remember the damned thing.) Mmmm. Petersen.

In other CSI related news, TWoP put CSI on permanent hiatus. Noooooooooooooooooo! Please, Sobell, don't abandon us!

Will wonders never cease?

1. The dregs next door actually weed whacked their front lawn AND side yard. Twice in one month- this could be a veritable record! Granted, the actual back yard hasn't been touched, and most likely never will be, but hey, I can see to get out of my own driveway again!

Their impetus was the purchase of a large, inflatable pool. So now I can look out my kitchen window and see them all lounging about in it. But it beats dealing crack, so...

2. Someone actually found my blog by googling their own name. (Fear not, Anon-a-ma-fus, your secret's safe with me until whenever. But I have to ask, do they really have a jar in the basement where they keep KL's and SS's original facial bits?) (I kid, I know KL is super nice, but whenever I've waited on SS? FLAMING bitch.)

And because of that... (And for google purposes only, of course)

Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak. Mike Spontak.

I have no idea where you are right now, if you're still on the rugby guy circuit, taking care of your grandmother, or in the middle of Ipanema, BUT, if you somehow stumble across this, do me a favor and email, or comment here, and all will be revealed. For I? Was a dork when I left KW, and should have told you how I really felt. I should just ask Tioti, but I'm a dork like that.

3. Fresh Blueberry Streusel Muffins are cooling on my countertop. Want the recipe? Click the link, yo.

I also found a recipe for Shoo Fly Cupcakes, and I am intrigued. (For whatever reason I've been craving shoo fly pie lately, and should break down and bake my own vanilla pie, which is the same damn thing, but with light brown sugar, and a bit of corn syrup (i think) in place of some of the molasses. Oh, and it's 1,000 times better.) I digress.


And I'll write it 100 times on the blackboard.

If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.
If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.
If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.
If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.
If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.
If I am going outside for longer than 10 minutes, I will put on sunscreen.

I have a perfectly good bottle of SPF 45. (Water Babies, how I love thee) I know I glow in the dark. I know that the sun is not my friend. I DO wear it if I'm working outside, but I didn't think I'd need it to go driving for an hour and change today.

I? Am a moron.

A moron with one lobster red arm, and one pasty white one.

I will remember to put it on before I take the 200 mile trek to the Redneck Ancestral Stomping Grounds on Saturday, lest I wind up with one lobster arm, a negative image of the seatbelt, and one pasty white arm.

Wish you were here

I didn't take this picture, but it's the beach I used to hang out on when I lived in Florida. It's the far end, away from most of the tourists and not really adjacent to any condos or hotels. I used to park on my folding chair with a book (or three) or some knitting, or just zone out and stare at the water. (My God, the water. Calm, shallow, and so beautiful.)

That's the mindset I'm in today- I want to loll on the beach, with a stack of books, and stare out at the water. Though, sitting in the backyard, smelling the dirt, and sniffing a cat isn't a bad substitute.


Fun with Photos! (Party Edition!)

This is a cake. A very. Very. Tasty cake. And purty too! My maa was the wiltonator, I merely did the baking and art direction. :)

This is the exceptionally beautiful, and even more talented G. Monkey, preparing to slice and dice her cake.

This would be most of the "Motley Crue" who attended the shindig. From left to right (starting in the back row) we have: Mr. Doc, G. Monkey's Brudda, Scuba Steve, Mrs. Pop Deluxe,& Kael(row 2)Tiff-a-rama, (G. Monkey's bud from way back), The future Mrs. G. Monkey's Brudda, "My Head's On Fire!" girl (black top), Kneeling we have Doc, G. Monkey (seated), The Professor, and Horsty (kneeling). Seated, Mr. G. Monkey, Diesel (who was very bummed, as she had to wear her big-girl panties), and me.
Stoltz-a-ma-fus was behind the camera.

Additional pictures to come- there's a great one of the professor and his beer, and a few more. Whee!

Now I know how the Simpsons feel.

#1. This is my 300th post. YIKES.

#2. I also feel very Dr. Evil, with Fat Elvis on my lap as I type. Heh.

#3. I think the interview went reasonably well, but I don't want to jinx it. The woman I interviewed with was very nice, and I hope I get bonus points for coming in a suit (a lined, heavy-assed suit) when it's 95 billion degrees outside with 300% humidity, while they're all rockin' the business casual.

I had all the answers she was looking for, and she was totally cool with not checking in with Bosslady. (I told her that I was supposed to be coming back after the annual fundraiser, but felt I needed something a bit more stable, and wanted to break that to Bosslady myself. Which isn't totally a lie.) She was supposed to interview me with the clerical supervisor, but that super was ill today, so I may have to go back for a second interview. All told, I've got another 2-3 weeks till I know anything for certain.

I will say that 2 weeks paid vacation after 6 months, 12 paid holidays, and (currently, but could change at the end of the year) insurance that I DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR that comes with $5.00 office visits, and 15.00 prescriptions after 90 days is like a freakin' dream come true. The only iffy thing is that there's a union (which I don't have to join, but I probably would anyway), which means no merit increases, only scheduled pay increases. I can live with that.

The cool thing is that I'd split my days- I'd start at the main office (say, in the mornings) and then after lunch, work at a nearby sattelite office (it's about a 5 minute drive, or I could walk, if I desired. Though, I think it's in a sketchy part of town, so I'd probably only walk in the spring/summer, when it's light out.)

Thanks for the mojo, ET, and for crossin' your fingers everyone. I'm really hoping this works out!

In order to pass the time a little faster, I think I'm goin' up home for a part of next week. I'll leave Saturday afternoon, probably, and come back here when the spirit moves me. If nothing else, it'll be cooler there. Plus, I'd like to go check out the cemeteries, and get some pictures, visit the old elementary school, and some of my old stomping grounds. Apparently the house I grew up in is up for sale again. In short, I'd like to do a bunch of stuff that I don't get to do when I'm up with family.

This is quite auspicious!

I just changed out my teal purse for a more businesslike black bag that I haven't used in forever. As I was unzipping the inside pocket to stash my lipgloss, I found...

Fifteen bucks!

Oh, that's a good sign right there! Maybe I'll treat myself to lunch afterwards!


Chillin & Yoot

I just spoke with the woman who called me, and I have an interview Tuesday at 10:30.

Please keep your fingers crossed, and your vibes positive.

Commence nervousnes.....NOW.

I just need to remember that This Is A Clerking Job. Not rocket science. Not brain surgery. Not nuclear physics. The only things I have going against me are the fact that I don't have WP experience, (but it's not that hard to learn) and a somewhat spotty employment history (but for the love of jeebus, I didn't know that I'd go from one poorly run, underfunded nonprofit to another in the span of a year, and I've actually gone BACK to working for the place I was at for over a year before I moved away. I've had a lot of jobs, but I've always left for good reasons- advancement, money, experience- and I've always done my best at each. I WANT to settle into a job I can stay with for the long-term. I WANT a job with security, stability, and appropriate funding.)

I'm reliable, dedicated, intelligent, fast with the multi-tasking, a quick learner, and LIKE STRUCTURE. And I type like a mofo. I should be able to ace this interview. Mercifully, the woman I spoke with seems pleasant.

Oh, and apparently? The state wants to move a portion of its H'bg based jobs HERE over the next year or so. So, if I can get into the state's civil service system now, if things aren't so grand at C&Y, I could theoretically shift elsewhere when the positions come to our town.

I'm off to go make sure my suit's clean, and I have a pair of pantyhose without claw marks in them. I'm also thinking about some voodoo for the massive zit I have on my chin. (Voodoo, or hot compresses, tea tree oil, and shrieks of "Why, hormones? WHYYYYYY????!!!")

Because it's hotter'n ass out there

and because I've received a bunch of hits looking for info on the product again. I can't say enough good stuff about the Monistat Soothing Care Anti-Chafing Powder Gel (Or, as it's commonly searched for "Anti-chafing cream"). Click the link, get a free sample! (not from me, from Monistat)

If you have thighs that even begin to approach touching one another, and get the chub rub? This stuff is for you.

And sure, mixing in a salad wouldn't hurt, but thanks to the geniuses who decided to make skorts look like real skirts, and the anti-chub-rub goo, I haven't had to wear one of those sweaty-assed spandex football pants things more than a few times this summer. THAT? Rocks.

(And now that I have managed to squick out any male readership I may have once had...)


I declare this party AWESOME

Well, today was G. Monkey's surprise party, and it was a smashing success.

She genuinely WAS surprised, and it was really awesome having all of the gang (and then some) there. Even Most Perfect Mom Ever was there with her husband (King of All Graphic Design) and 2 of the bridesmaids from G. Monkey's wedding. She loved the cake, and received some wonderful gifts. (She loved the Monk Box set- I customized the labels with Monk's picture on them.) I think she was most bowled over by the fact that Mr. G. Monkey arranged the whole shebang. Truly, we had an excellent time.

I really missed hanging out with The Professor, Horsty, Stoltz-a-ma-fus, and Super Sharon (she's a newcomer to the pack, but I really think she's awesome). I emailed everyone, and invited them to come on out to the boonies for an evening. (Probably my birthday weekend, but I will stress that it's not a party, and they shouldn't bring presents, because... c'mon.) We're also going to attempt to resurrect Cheddar Theater and Board Game Night. Should be a lot of fun. As much as I do the whole "I really REALLY have a hard time dealing with people" it's different when it's friends. And I have been stupid to stay here isolated for so long.

Anyway, enough about my crap- back to the party.

It was quite possibly the best time I've had in a while, and I really hope Ellen had an equally excellent time. :) I'll post pictures of the cake either when Stoltz-a-ma-fus emails me his digitals (and a group shot) or when maa gets her film developed. Woot!


And many mooooooooooore!


And now, a series of haiku-

MWN is now thirty
and is super fine
Watch out, Memphis boys, watch out!

Do not send mix tape
nor live with your own mother,
this is not sixth grade.

Possess a brain, boys,
and don't forget to use it,
and you're halfway there.

Words to the wise, though-
MWN is not old, see,
She can kick your ass.

A super festive, albeit somewhat belated, birthday greeting for you, MWN. You're so hip, it hurts.

Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Happy Birthday!


While I was out on secret moose and squirrel activities (not the least of which included "swimming" with the codgers)I got a call from Children & Youth!

(On a related note, is it wrong that I want to call them "chillin and yoot"?)

They want me to come in for an interview. I just called the woman back, and got her VM, so will try again.

Cross your fingers folks, so that I don't fuck this up like the LAST interview I was on. I need this job.

Updates as I get them...


The Boyfriend Application

The incomprable Stephee and I were joking around about this on her blog, and all of the sudden it grew into something... well... very tongue in cheek, but fun. With that, I present to you- The Boyfriend Application! (and if you'd like a clean, Word format copy, email me- or let me know in the comments)

It's still rough, so please feel free to suggest additions, deletions, and the like.

Application for Boyfriend-hood

Thank you for taking the time to apply for the position of my boyfriend. As with any business, it is possible that there are no positions available at this time. However, I will retain your application for a period of no less than ninety (90) days. If an opening should arise, I will contact you to begin the interview process. Please do not phone me, as this may bar you from eligibility.

Please note that spelling, punctuation, and penmanship are important. Please complete all sections to the best of your abilities, and use additional sheets of paper as necessary. Please clearly label each additional sheet, so it corresponds with the appropriate question.

GeneralYour Name _____________________________________
Today's Date ________________________
Do you have a nickname? __________________________
Have you ever been known by any other name? ______________________________
Current Address

Years at Current Address _______ (If less than five, please attach separate sheet with previous residences for the past five years. )

Current Telephone Number
___________________ Home ___________________ Cellular

Current Email Address ____________________
Current IM Information _______________________

Current Employer (include telephone number/address)

Supervisor's name_________________________
Position held _____________________________
Number of years at position ________________

Please supplement this employment information with resume, including contact information.

Position Desired:
_____ Fuckbuddy
_____ Casual Dating
_____ Long-Term Relationship
_____ Potential Stalker

Current Age ___________________ (Physical)
Current Age ___________________ (Mental)
Current Age ___________________(In Public)
Current Age ____________________ (F'reals, Yo.)

How Much Ya Bench? ________________ lbs

Arrests: Please note, an arrest and/or conviction will not automatically disqualify you.

Have you ever been arrested? ______Yes ________ No

If yes, what was the charge? (If multiple arrests, please detail these on a separate sheet of paper.)


Have you ever been convicted of a felony? _____ Yes _____ No

Have you ever been to prison (except as a visitor) _____ Yes _____No

If yes, which prison(s) and length of stay?________________________________________________

Are you currently:
_____ On Parole? (Anticipated completion date___________________)

_____ Living in a halfway house? (Anticipated release date______________________)

_____ Under House Arrest? (Anticipated release date _______________________)

_____ Incarcerated? (Anticipated release date__________________________.)

_____ Dating someone else and/or married? (which?________________________)

What qualities will you bring to a potential relationship? (attach additional sheets if necessary)

Describe your relationship with your mother (if no mother present in your life, please substitute next closest mother-figure).

Please list your previous girlfriends for the past three years, most recent one first. Please provide contact information such as a working telephone number or email address for each. If you need additional space, please attach a separate sheet of paper.

1. __________________________
From_________ To__________
Reason no longer dating? ______________

2. __________________________
From_________ To__________
Reason no longer dating? ______________

3. __________________________
From_________ To__________
Reason no longer dating? ______________

Do you have any children? _____Yes _____No

If yes, How many _____
Do they live with you? ____Yes ____No ____Other (explain)__________________

Activities of Daily Living:

Current method of transportation?
_____ City Bus
_____My mother drives me
_____Own car
_____Own Truck
____ Own Motorcycle
_____ Other (explain)____________

If not currently licensed due to DWI/DUI or other state revocation, please check here_________ and explain why, and when/if your license will be returned ________________________________________________________

Current living arrangements? (note, residing with parents will not automatically disqualify you)
_____ Cardboard box, under bridge
_____ In my car
_____ Mom's Basement
_____ Apartment with Roommates
_____ Apartment, Alone
_____ House with roommates
_____ House, alone
_____ Own Home
_____ Alleyway
_____ Reformatory
_____ Ward of State
_____ Frathouse

How often do you feel the need to shower?
_____ When mom tells me
_____ Daily, whether I need it or not
_____After any strenuous activity
_____ Twice or more per day
_____ Just call me Howard Hughes

How much time do you spend on your haircare/skincare regimen?
_____Regimen? We don't need no stinking regimen!
_____ Long enough to comb it, shave it, and split
_____ Not an inordinate amount of time, but enough
_____ 30 minutes, minimum.
_____ 30-45 minutes
_____ More than you, honey.

Typically, you will find me attired in:
_____ Jeans/Tees
_____ Wifebeater/Trucker Hat
_____Whatever's trendy
_____ Cowboy gear
_____ Coture
_____ Business casual
_____ Standard Business
_____ Skater Punk
_____ Aging Hipster Chic
_____ Other (explain)_____________________________________________________

Which of the following best describes your attitude toward borrowing money from your girlfriend?
_____ Only if it was an emergency, i.e. I am being evicted from my apartment or if I need a new kidney.
_____ Only if we have a strict agreement about repayment, (promissory note) and I know I can fulfill my obligation.
_____ Only on days that end in "y"
_____ Why borrow when I can just steal?

If I offer to pick up the check for dinner/an activity, what would be your typical reaction?
_____ Oh, that's sweet, thank you so much! I've got next, OK?
_____ Screw that, missy, I'm the man, and I'll be doing the handling of cash around here.
_____ Sweet! Can you pick up the tab on an ipod too?
_____ You mean there's a time you WOULDN'T be paying for something on our date?

Essay Questions:
Please use additional pages. Again, spelling and penmanship count.

Please describe your ideal first date:

Please describe your ideal date six, then 12 months into the dating process:

Please describe the best date you were ever on, and why you enjoyed it so much:

What is currently in your refrigerator, if you have one?

Please define your version of "the bases".

Multiple Choice:

Gifts are_____.
a. Nice to receive, and nice to give- just because! I don't have to wait for a holiday or anniversary.
b. Unnecessary except on birthdays and holidays or major anniversaries.
c. A waste of money.
d. Always to be repaid with "Gas, grass, or ass", cuz ain't nothin' free, baby!

You ask me to take care of dinner for this evening, so I __________.
a. Make reservations at our favorite restaurant
b. Stop by the grocery store and pick up a few things to cook
c. Swing through the drive through and hit the dollar menu
d. Laugh uproariously, because that shit's your responsibility, woman.

I think pets are _______.
a. Wonderful, I'm a cat person.
b. Wonderful, I'm a dog person.
c. Wonderful, for torturing
d. Wonderful, for the makers of allergy medications

I am named after_____.
a. A cherished family member, or friend of the family.
b. The city I was conceived/delivered in
c. My mom's favorite food when she was pregnant
d. other (list)_______________________________

Other women are_____.
a. nonexistent, except in a peripheral way, when you're around/in my life
b. conquests, to be had at all costs
c. secondary to my mother.

Short Answer:
Please try to confine your answers to the space provided. If necessary, attach additional paper for expanded answers.

If I want to go to a movie, and you'd rather go to the bars (or vice versa) how would you resolve the situation?

How hard do you work to not go to bed alone?

What is your favorite color?

Will I ever see you during your sports season of choice? (Yes or no, and explain which sport)

Are you simply telling me what you think I'd like to hear, in order to get laid?

Why do you want to date me?

Why should I want to date you?

How do you cope when you've had a difficult week? How would you help me cope, if I have had a similarly difficult week?

What is your standard tip for good service at a restaurant?

Were you lying above, when I asked if you were simply telling me what I wanted to hear, in order to get laid?

Yes/No Simply check the appropriate response.

Have you ever uttered any of the following?
"It's not you, it's me" _____Yes _____No
(Did you mean it? _____Yes _____No)

"I just need my space" _____Yes _____No

"Lets be friends" _____Yes _____No
(Did you actually remain friends? _____Yes _____No)

"I'll pull out in time" _____Yes _____No

"Did you, y'know?" _____Yes _____No

Have you ever taken an online "purity test? _____Yes _____No.
If yes, did you fail? _____Yes _____No

Have you ever participated in the Special Olympics? _____Yes _____No
(If yes, as ___athlete or ____coach)

Have you ever broken up with a girlfriend by telephone, email or instant messenger? _____Yes _____No

Have you ever broken off a date because something better came along? _____Yes _____No

Does your family tree have branches? ____Yes _____No

Are any members of your family who are related in more than one way (i.e. sister/mother, uncle/daddy) ____Yes ____No

The Hard Part:

Hat is to mitten as _______ is to __________.
a. sausage/casing
b. ball cap/catcher's mitt
c. egg/shell

Chopin is to Piano as _____________ is to _______________.
a. Dave Grohl/drums
b. Benny Goodman/clarinet
c. Edvard Munch/Oil paints

Kafka is to Cockroaches as ______________ is to _____________________

a. Nabokov/underage girls
b. Dahl/chocolate
c. Seuss/psychotropics

If a train leaves Munich at 11:15 AM carrying 185 passengers for Luxembourg, and is travelling at a rate of 53 kilometers per hour, how long will it take paint to dry in an 8 foot by 12 foot room, if the relative humidty is 94 percent, and the barometer is falling? (please show your work)

In Conclusion:

Thank you for taking the time to fill out this application. Please feel free to provide any additional information, supporting documentation, letters of recommendation and/or reference you believe would be helpful in the decision making process. Regrettably, these materials will not be returned, and if they are sufficiently ridiculous (boudoir photographs, glamour shots, etc.) will be posted on the Internet and/or circulated to other women in the county. If you are selected for an interview, you will receive a postcard informing you of available dates and times. Please be prepared to provide a DNA swab, blood sample, and fingerprints.



Call me horrible-

-but the first things I thought of when I read this article were:

1. I wonder if it's anything like the "Lets put this trashbag over my head and wrap duct tape around my neck and pretend I'm an astronaut game"

2. No, that's the "Chlorinating the Gene Pool Game"

3. Charles Darwin and Chainsaw of Evolution strike again!

I know I'm going to hell. This just reinforces it.

(And before anyone says it, Yes, I know. It's tragic. It's awful. Those poor parents. But seriously- the hell? How did the kid get to be that old, I'm what with tasty concotions he could have made from the chemicals under the sink, or the special joys involved with licking electrical sockets?)


When it rains, eh?

So it's about 9 thousand degrees outside today. My dad's working on a roof.
And apparently forgets to hook up the gatorade IV.
He calls the codger corral at about 4:00, informing us that he's cramping up REALLY badly, and generally freaking out.

This is the part where I should explain a few things.

1. My dad's working on a roof in a town about an hour away, the homeowners aren't there (it's a summer cottage thing). His helper isn't working with him today. Neither my mom and I know where exactly he's working, and don't have the phone number for the owners on us.

2. My father has worked outside during summers for at least 20 years. He knows he's supposed to drink Gatorade and/or take salt/calcium tablets, rest frequently, and all that crap.

3. We go through this at least once per summer.

Usually, when he cramps up so badly, he's in the county, or has someone with him. He perennially refuses to go to the hospital too. Last year, it was exceptionally bad, (turning grey, then bluish, and stuff) and my mom almost called an ambulance, but he wouldn't let her. This year, we had to calm him down, get him to lie down (his back was cramping) in his truck, with the AC on, and when he could move, go get some gatorade. He was able to make it home then, but that was a tad scary. He seems OK now, I hope this continues to cement for him that he is 1. getting too old for this shit, 2. taking unnecessary chances with his health.

For all my bitching, when he's in a decent mood, he's a good guy. And if he does something stupid and up and croaks on me, I'll be forced to follow him into whatever afterlife he's heading for, and kick his ever-loving ass.

On the more pleasant end, I was supposed to go to the codger corral and drive 2 residents to doctor visits, and ended up sticking around the rest of the day to help as "administrator lite". I also got to have tasty Vietnamese food, and hear stories from Head-Honcho-Bosslady's trip to Europe (her son was part of American Music Abroad, and she chaperoned), which was awesome.

Also, a short note-

Dear residents who have lived at the codger corral since the dawn of time-

If you moved in back when I was still a receptionist 4 years ago, chances are good that we don't have your photo in your file in the nursing office. And even though I know, and you know, that you're not demented, and won't wander away -necessitating a call to the state troopers- they're making me get your picture anyway. So do me a favor, sit there, look at me, and let me take your freaking picture. It's a polaroid camera. This picture will never be seen by anyone but the nurses, and maybe Trooper Billy. I don't care if you're getting your hair done Thursday, and you think I should come back then. I don't care if you don't want your picture taken. Even Sara, the Amish lady let me take her picture (though I did give her the option to refrain). Plus, you don't have a choice. So there.

One. Two. ThreeCLICK!


And finally, Fat Elvis? Most pleasantly mannered cat I think I've ever been around. Doesn't much care for being picked up, and still doesn't like men, loud noises, or having his furballs snipped, he absolutely adores me, and the feeling? She is mutual. He loves being all over my lap while I'm on the computer, and will begin to purr the nanosecond I touch him. And he'll walk up to the other cats, all "Hi! I'm Fat Elvis, I want to be your friend!" even if they keep treating him like a leper.
I seriously LOVE this cat. (Of course, I love all the cats, but they're not so giving with the adoration. FE? All love, all the time. He best not get sick, squished, or run off.)


Well, Shit.

Or, how yours truly figured out that she really isn't half as clever as she thought she once was.

I? Am a maroon.

My piece of advice for today is; "If you are thinking of making your own quilt without an actual pattern for layout, please do be certain that you are indeed as clever as you think you are, or you'll want to stab out your eyes with a quilting needle."

Because really, no matter how many times you've laid it out on the carpeting, and you think you've got it perfect, and your inner voice (not the one that tells you to bite your forearms, the one that says things like "golly, you're clever, and ever so attractive too!") says it's bound to work, unless you've got it out on paper, with instructions, you're going to fuck up.

And I?

Fucked up. So, go ahead and substitute "you" and it's permutations with "I" and its permutations, and you have my evening.

Mercifully, it's a small fuckup, and will only involve ripping out 2 motifs and 2 white hexagons, it's a setback of an hour and a half's work. And that's annoying. I hope this will fix the thing, if not, I have to rethink my layout.

And I may slap my father senseless (or perhaps slap some sense into him?) as he's been acting quite the jerk over the past 24 hours. Not because I'm knocked up*, not because global warming is threatening the planet, not because the Phillies suck dead dog nuts. No, He's being a douchebag because I. Didn't. Buy. Sausage. Yesterday.

You read that right.

Sausage. Pork sweepins in a tube. Saaaauuuuuuuuusssssssssaaaaaaaaaaaagggggggge.

And why (for the love of all that is holy) didn't I buy sausage for his precious, sacred weekend breakfast? Because he wasn't HERE Saturday, to ask for it, and I didn't think he'd be back today. Because my mother usually can't remember what she had for breakfast this morning (and also thought my dad wasn't going to be home today). Because neither one of us eats it, AND we were shopping at the chicken/poultry & fucked up food outlet. Not a regular grocery store. I don't think they even HAVE sausage. So of course the great sausage shortage of 2005 is my fucking fault. Just like the day we didn't stop and buy him a pizza at pizza hut while we were out buying groceries 2 weeks ago. (Again, I'm going to leave a car full of frozen food in the hot sun for 20 minutes to wait for a fucking pizza? Um. No. And it's not like we live in their delivery area- They're nowhere NEAR our house. We bought him a DiGiorno pizza, which he refused to eat.) Which he brought up as he draaaaaaaagged the entire thing out.

So now he's not speaking to me**. Despite the fact that I made a tasty hash and egg breakfast this morning. Which he did not touch. (The dog was very glad to get it.) He's playing the martyr over SAUSAGE. Which I very nearly went out at 10:30 last night to go buy so he'd Shut. The. Fuck. Up. About. The. Goddamned. Sausage. (Seriously. Was still bitching at my mother about it when they went to bed.)

I know he's overworked right now, but it's not my fault he decided to work all day Friday, then turn around, drive up home to mow the grass, and come back the next day (4 hours up and back). Odie was going up there this week, and could have mowed for him. He only does this shit so he can say how manly he is. (When all he's doing is working on another heart attack***, pissing my mother off to no end, and an early grave. Seriously. Who cares about the grass if you're under it?) I'll work on some kind of food treat tomorrow to smooth things over, because I'd rather him be in a decent mood. He doesn't know how perilously close he is to seriously pissing my mother off. ****

Arrrrrrrrgh. Anyway. I'm going to go cuddle a large, fluffy black cat, and stuff.

*No, I'm not knocked up. No chance of that happening.

** Household record for not speaking to me? Over 1 month, when I brought Silent Bob home. And note, it was my mother's idea to "Grab the cat, get in the car, lock the doors, and GO!" with her. As we found Bob up home, and dad didn't want us to take her home, despite the fact that her back end was broken.

*** He had 2 or 3 (they can't say) mild heart attacks a few years back. The kind you don't really know you're having except your chest and back really hurt and you don't exactly know why. He chalked it up to straining himself. He was incorrect.

**** The last time he did that, she moved out. For a year.


Best. Search phrase. Ever.

"Does Kelis have Halitosis?"

And plenty of LDS. Porn!

Elvis explored upstairs today, voluntarily. He is now sitting on my lap, and wishes you all a fine evening.

I'm debating whether or not I'm going to the drive in tonight, because on one hand? ZOMBIES! Land of the Dead is playing. ZOMBIES! DRIVE IN! ZOMBIES!

On the bad side, I'd have to sit through War of the Worlds to see it, and I'm rather opposed to giving ANY money to that stupid Tom Cruise git. Though I could spend the whole time making fun of him, and this IS the last summer, supposedly, the drive in will be open.

And Zombies.

So We'll see.

What's it like in your respective necks of the woods?


Cause for celebration!

As I put in the comments somewhere, I finished the last flower for my quilt yesterday evening. This afternoon I finished cutting out around 300 white hexagons for the background bits, and laid out the final arrangement. HEE! I'm so excited I could puke. Next up? Actually putting stuff together, then determining how I want the border to be. I'm sort of leaning toward using the spare hexagons I have, but I don't know for certain yet.

Kinda makes the mongolian death cramps I'm workin' with seem a bit less... godawful.

Plus, Elvis has voluntarily jumped up onto my lap twice today, without having to be coaxed out of his hidey hole. I've taken to leaving the basement door open, but he hasn't ventured forth yet.

AND.. G. Monkey's coming over for the season premiere of Monk tonight. And I get to work with Loopy Elda tomorrow from 2-6. Should be fun.


Just Because

Given this morning's events in London, my ramblings about my neighbor, felines, and fingersticking are a bit inappropriate. My thoughts are with those in London, their families, and their friends.

Your regularly scheduled mediocrity shall resume tomorrow, or shortly thereafter.



Dear Next Door Neighbor, whose name I still don't know, nor do I care to-

Lets keep little instances like today to the barest of minimums, like say, "never again". I only answered the door because I thought you might be the UPS guy. I was simply so thrilled that you weren't asking for money, that I did agree to drive you and your children to pick up your mom's car. Don't ask me again. I don't like you, I don't want to have to make small talk with you, and I don't particularly want you in my car. There's a reason I hide in the basement most of the time, even when there isn't a floofy cat there. Namely, to avoid people. Especially you.

So, to recap. Hate you, don't much care for your kids (but they can't help it), don't expect a repeat of today.



In sewing news, I laid out the quiltlette top, and I need 1 more full sized flower, and I think I'll put in 8 small flowers (1 row of hexagons instead of 2) in the larger expanses of off-white. I'll try to put together a picture so you see what I mean... (assuming blogger isn't being doofy today)

Elvis explored my room this morning, but we quickly went back downstairs after Bob decided to be a nasty bitch to him.

And thus another day goes.


Lucky 13?

Sewing geekery ahead. Cat geekery at the end. Funny stuff? Well, it's in there somewhere.

I'm working on my 13th flower for my quilt-lette. Damn. I didn't think that was ever gonna happen. Once I finish it, I'm going to lay it out on top of the blanket I want it to be sized like, and project new figures accordingly. Then I can debate methods of joining. We'll see. On the upside, I haven't bought thing ONE specifically for this project yet. Rather, am using scraps out of the neverending fabric bin, a few things I picked up to make aprons from, and a bit of ingenuity. Yay me. It's kinda cool to see some of the fabrics, and try to remember what we made out of them. (Appliance covers, a few dresses, a pillow, you name it.)

I think I figured out what I'm getting G. Monkey for her big thirtieth. I want to bake a cake to go with the Most Monk-Tastic box ever. (She loves the show as much as I do.) Any ideas? I've figured a season box set, some hand wipes, a few bottles of water and... ? (within reason, as the cash flow, she still is more of a trickle.)

FE went to the vet today, and was ridiculously well behaved. Never even peeped on his way over. Astounding. Also, he sat on my lap for about 10 minutes this afternoon. Progress!

Still doesn't much care for guys, but that's because they're too danged noisy.

Also, apparently, I was "REALLY" funny at Stoltzfus's shindig. Heh. I don't recall saying anything exceptionally amusing, but probably did make a general ass out of myself by being inebriated.
Go figure.

Also, damn you, TWoP for getting me hooked on House, when the show is a total one-trick pony. (Seriously. Someone's going to be mysteriously ill. House will be a douche. Person will almost die. House will make miraculous save. The end.)

Hooray for ice cream, fans, large furry cats, the fabric stash that seemingly has no end, and awesomely bad good TV.


Ceci n'est pas un chat

And mad props to anyone who gets the joke I'm aiming for in the title.

This is not actually Fat Elvis. I suspect strongly that it is one of the cats that was brought in with him, and is probably his "sister". The people at the shelter said there was an "aunt" and some kittens, and had called him "poppa" (ugh- insert your own Barbara Streisand jokes here). They're the same age, and look identical, except "aunt mia" (as they called her) has a dab of white on her neck. Fat Elvis is coal black. When we get the pictures back, I'll show you the real him.

He's sitting at my feet right now, which I consider an achievement. I didn't even have to coax him out from behind the desk, he just wandered out. Also? He loves the 'nip. I knew he was Elvis material.


Still getting hits for "Long Dong Silver" (Yes, Long Dong Silver. Thus, guaranteeing I will still get hits from lonely wankers who have nothing better to do that sit at the keyboard and type one-handed...

Oh, and the other interesting term du jour?

"Necrophilia pictures"

MWN, I blame you. Heh.

Fat Elvis squeaked for me last night, he has the tiniest, girliest, itty-bittiest little squeak for such a roly-poly body. Heh. He's also very good at "Heeling". If I pet him, then get up, he's right there at my ankles, following me. I think Maa's a bit jealous. Heh.


Oh, how I love the 4th.

What rocks about 4th of July weekend? Well, first, Stoltzfus's roof party extravaganza, and its fireworks show, complete with mortar fragments to the face, and wanton inebriation. Then comes Sunday. Oh, how I love the Sunday. Why?

Because from my deck I can watch no fewer than five (more if I dart my head about like a mosquito on crack, which I couldn't tonight, more on that later) fireworks shows. 1 very close, 2 not so close, 2 rather far off, and 2 out of regular sight range, but still visible. Our view? Kicks ass. The shows? 45 minutes of Oooooh & aaaaah inducing glee.


No traffic, barely any noise, and QT with the skeeter lamps, cat, dog, and 'rents. sweet deal. And bonus? The migraine is almost gone.

I haven't been getting them as frequently lately, mercifully, but today's was a doozie. Normally, I don't get the "aura" when I have a migraine, I just feel a little queasy, then WHOMP, it feels like a spike in my temple. When I do get an aura, I know things will be reaaaaaaaaaly bad. 2 Maxalts bad. Guess what I had today with only 1 maxalt on hand, and the pharmacy closed today and tomorrow? Things are down to a dull ache and mild nausea now, mild enough to let me do stuff, but annoying enough to let me know it's still there. Bah.

Fat Elvis and I are going to sit with the fan and watch Poirot until I fall asleep. When I wake up, this shit better be gone.

Hmm... connection good

Carry on, Ghostrider. My connection seems to be remaining active, and it doesn't appear to be a fluke, so I musta fixed it! Yay me! (Damned wireless doohickey and DSL modem thingamabob!)

So, more about Fat/Velvet Elvis.

He's 4, and Maa found him at the no-kill shelter below our house. Papa Sauce? Surprisingly enough, amenable to the addition of new kitty. In fact, actually suggested the shelter. Why? Probably (though I can't prove it) because he just bought himself a new tractor. My father collects yard tractors the way some women collect black shoes. Seriously. Seven. He has SEVEN tractors. All in various states of repair. Why? None of us can figure it out. He has 2 up home, and 5 here. Maa figures it means she can adopt 2 more kitties, to which I say, "Go for it."

Anyway, tangent, didn't really discuss Elvis. He rather does resemble a pompadour, and doesn't really look like Wayne Newton, so Elvis it is. Apparently he likes to hide in suspended ceilings, and had been at the shelter since February. He was Feral when they found him, and enjoyed sleeping in his litterbox. Also? He is knottier than your first attempt at knitting. We're probably going to have to cut a good portion of the big knots out, the smaller ones are brushing out OK. But he's got 2 ginormous matts on either side of his head, so... he's going to look silly for a few weeks. (And all the other cats will laugh at him, but he'll just take his revolver and shoot the catnip mouse or force Richard Nixon to come hang out with them.)

Speaking of the other cats, they haven't met him yet. However, I know how this will go down. Mooji won't care, she'll be all "hating you would require an expenditure of energy. Screw that." Alice will alternate between merely tolerating him, and doing her "Bride of Frankenstein" Hiss at him. Probably more of the latter, not the former. Little bob will just cower, since he's bigger than her, and eventually, will get used to him. Assuming he won't spend his every waking moment under a piece of furniture.

Now, for the rest of the past, what? Three days? guh.

The whing-ding at Stoltzfus' was AWESOME, but I had way, way, waaaaaaaaay too much to drink. And about 3 minutes into the fireworks show (which kicked ASS) it started to pour. We all got soaked, but it was worth it. I also ran into a few people I went to school with (the one I was really talking with graduated a year before me.) He's still in my town, his dad died last year, so he moved in with his mom, and seems to actually be a really normal, well-adjusted guy. I should have stayed longer to talk to him, but his girlfriend probably would have freaked out. (Well, probably she'd just hit on my brother, and things would be fine. Is there something stronger than "gets around" because... yeah, she does. But in this case, it's good, because I hadn't seen him in eons.)

Yesterday was down-time, because I couldn't sleep (and when I did fall asleep, Mooji kept coming in and demanding to be petted, and butted her head up in my pillow if I wasn't petting fast enough. Unusual, because she doesn't usually EVER come into my room at night.) Chilled with Elvis, calmed mom down when they lost a resident.

Yes. Lost a resident. Where we work is not a lockdown facility, residents come and go as they please. This one woman has dementia, and has gone downhill dramatically in the past few months. She went out for a walk around the building (as she often does), but this time, didn't come back in. Maa and a few others went out looking for her, but ended up phoning the police, and they looked for her too. They found her a few hours later, at a convenience store a few miles down the road. Oy. Maa was not thrilled, since it's her weekend as the "head cheese". I hope the family stays with her this weekend, and they move to have her placed at a personal care facility with a wander-guard setup. (She could stand a tweak in her meds, too, which would probably help a little bit, but wandering's something we simply cannot deal with there, because we're right on a busy road, and near a river. It's too dangerous.)

Hmm. That's probably it for now, going to see if the post I tried to do the other day in Foodage saved itself.

So, what's new for Y'all?

Just a fast one

I don't know how long my internet will stay up- it's been wonky all weekend.

Everything's ok here. Even better than OK, as we have a new kitty. A big, longhaired, black male feline, named alternately "Velvet Elvis" and "Fat Elvis" because of his striking similarity to the king's hair. :)

More to come when I know this thing is fixed right.

Just wanted y'all to know I'm alive!

Happy Fourth!