On getting a new cat. (Alternate title: It's been so long since I updated that I forgot my password to log on to this site.)

So, sadly, I lost my sweet boy Ty a week ago.

(Ty, getting pounced on by Josh.)

He was 12. And he had cancer. Thankfully he didn't suffer.

With my 31st birthday fast approaching, my mother and my sister did what any good mother and sister do: they got me another cat. Because this cat was supposed to be a birthday present they tried to be sneaky about it, but really, how can you be sneaky about getting someone a cat?

On Friday my mom and sister adopted the cat from a rescue shelter, brought him to the vet for a checkup and then brought him to my house. This is the phone call I got at work at about 2:00 Friday afternoon:

Me: Hello?

Mom: Hi, it's mom. When you get home from work today make sure you open the front door very carefully and then close it very quickly.

Me: O-k??

Mom: Ok, bye!

Yeah, I pretty much knew that there would not be a snake waiting for me when I got home. Or a pig or a goat or a dog. How are you supposed to work when you know that there is a new kitty waiting for you at home? So I rushed home after work and got to meet Gus.

(This picture is blurry because he never stands still, ever. I'll try to get a better one soon, maybe once he actually decides to sleep.)

This is Gus. He is about five or six years old. He was abandoned. He has a few broken teeth and a notch in his ear. He is an absolute sweetheart. RT and I fell in love with him immediately. Josh, our other cat (Ty's twin brother) was less than thrilled and let us know by making an impressive array of Angry Cat Noises. (Which is really funny because he has never made an angry cat noise before in the eight years we've had him, and I don't think he really knew what to do, so mainly he just puffed up into a giant cloud of gray fur and made noises like this: MwwwrrrrAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR!!!!)

Now Josh and Gus seem to be tolerating each other and spend their free time giving each other dirty looks from across the room.

We're fairly certain the Gus is a nutcase.

He loves to be pet, and when someone is petting him he gets so excited that he rolls around and purrs like crazy. He got so excited when I was petting him that he actually dunked his head in his water bowl. Twice.

He has also rolls around so much that he has rolled right of the couch. Twice.

He demands to be pet. If you are not paying sufficient attention to him he yells at you, or slaps your leg with his paw (but he doesn't put his claws out).

He will sit facing a wall and sniff one spot on the wall for several minutes at a time. When he is done sniffing the spot he stands up on his hind legs and sniffs a higher spot directly above the first spot.

He likes to hide in the bathtub and pop out when you're brushing your teeth or putting in your contact lenses.

Last night I heard him jump up on the kitchen counter. When I went in to make him get down I caught him licking the bottle of Jack Daniels that RT had placed there earlier in the evening.

My new cat is a drunkard. This explains a lot.

More Random Thoughts - because Kado wanted me to post and I don't have time to actually write something decent.

Why is it that I can remember a day in my life over 26 years ago, when I was four years old and my parents brought home a jar of marshmellow Fluff, sang a song about a Fluffernutter sandwich, which went like this:
Oh you put Fluff, Fluff, Fluff upon a Fluffernutter,
With lots and lots and lots and lots of creamy peanut butter!
and then proceeded to make me a Fluffernutter sandwich which I proceeded to eat and then soon thereafter vomited all over the kitchen floor (which had incorrectly installed yellow patterned linoleum, resulting in a seam in the pattern right across the middle of the room) of our apartment - yet I can't even remember what I had for lunch on Friday?

That may have been the longest run on sentence ever.

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I got a phone call at work today from a woman in Australia. She had the most beautiful accent I have ever heard, which made me immediately self-conscious about my supposed "Connecticut accent". Even the names she gave me "Philip and Vivian" sounded so much lovelier than when I repeated them back to her.... I wonder if she commented about my accent when she hung up the phone?

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Tip of the Day: Opaque black tights are not a substitute for real pants. I don't care if you are wearing a longish (but not long enough to be a dress) sweater and furry Uggs, put on some damn clothes. Here is a helpful hint, for when you just can't tell which items in your dresser are pants and which are underwear: Jeans, slacks, cords, even sweatpants = pants. Footed stretchy nylon leggings that are sold in cardboard eggs = underwear. Thank you.

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I was just browsing on eBay and found a listing for Old Navy size 6 jeans. The subtitle of the listing is "perfect for a plus size teen". Really?? Size 6 is now considered "plus size"? I don't have much else to say about that except WTF?!? (I'm sure Ill think of something better to say later.)

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I am a total Christmas dork. I have already run a mental inventory of our Christmas decorations. Today I went to Target for toothpaste and spent a half-hour oohing and ahhing over silver mirrored cone trees and twenty seven different kinds of garland. And I may or may not have already started to listen to Christmas music too, and you know what, I'm not ashamed to admit it!

Random thoughts of a half-assed blogger

I should be working right now, but if I actually spent all of the time I should be working actually doing work then I would never do anything but work. Know what I mean?

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So, when I last posted on here it was a letter to my beloved Red Sox that I wrote the day before I attended game five of the ALCS in Boston. Of course, they won that game in historic fashion and it was seriously one of the coolest nights of my life. Of course, they blew it in game seven but I have to admit that a teeny-tiny part of me is almost sort of glad because I was honestly considering buying World Series tickets if they won - even if it meant taking out another mortgage. That would not be a very wise economic decision, so I'll just save my pennies and cross my fingers for next year.

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My husband, who I love dearly, is downstairs right now sipping on a martini and talking back to the television. I just thought you should know that.

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Today is my God-daughter Anna's SIXTH birthday, which is yet another reason for me to feel old. It seems like just yesterday that we were frantically trying to finish painting the border in her nursery before she came home from the hospital. My arms still hurt from that. Happy Birthday, Anna Banana!

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I hope that the voters made the right decision yesterday.... I don't usually like to talk about my political beliefs, but I can't help but be hopeful that this change will bring about the turnaround that this country so desperately needs.

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I really like rice and beans and diced tomatoes. Really.

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I saw three fender-benders on the way home from work this evening, and it was barely sprinkling out. Pay attention when you drive, people!

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I made two small tacos for my lunch today using tomatoes, avocado and cheese (delicious) but I dropped one on my shoe so I ended up with one small taco for lunch and one messy shoe.

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I'm going to try harder to update this blog on a regular basis. I have a lot to say, just no time to say it!

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My sister has a blog now too, and I think it's better than mine. Go check it out!

Dear Boston Red Sox,

Dear Boston Red Sox,

I have been a fan of yours for most of my life. I don’t remember exactly how or when I became a fan, but I know it was sometime in my early childhood. I don’t really know why I became a fan, especially since my parents are Yankees fans…I guess it was my own form of childhood rebellion. I think my parents were lucky. Anyway, I do know this much… I am a Red Sox fan. When I was in the third grade there was this annoying fourth-grader who insisted that the Mets would beat the Sox in the 1986 World Series. I took great offense to this statement and proceeded to start an argument with her which developed into a shoving match which developed to playground chants of “Red-Sox-Stink! Me-ets-Stink!” which developed into us all having to stand against the wall for the remainder of recess. Ok, so the girl was right, but to this day if you listen closely you can still hear the chants of “Me-ets Stink” resonating faintly over the playing fields at E. Green Elementary School.

So the years have gone by and I have remained a fan. Like many other young fans I learned to live with the requisite pain and heartache that comes with rooting for the Sox. Then I grew up and married a man who may quite possibly be an even bigger fan than I am. Together we live as part of a Nation that coordinates our after-work clothing according to who is pitching, and who thinks that a week’s salary is a perfectly reasonable price to pay for a Papelbon-signed game ball. We try to weave words like “wicked” into our daily vernacular and we think that “Sweet Caroline” is the most beautiful song ever written. We fans from outside of Boston are willing drive a six-hour round trip to see a three hour game from a tiny seat that may or may not even face home plate. We make commercials about giving our first born children to see the Sox win the World Series and then worry that someone we know might actually do so if it happens! We’ve taught the younger generation that “Yankees” is a bad word and we may or may not have caused one certain three year old boy to tell everyone he sees that “Yankees go to baby school!” (His words, not ours…)

While Sox fans are no stranger to heartache, over time the heartache has turned into hope and the hope has turned into great expectations for our team. Of course the pinnacle for any Sox fan born after 1918 came in 2004, but the joy was no less diminished the second time around in 2007. Now we’re spoiled and we expect greatness from our team. We know you don’t like to make it easy for us. You like to fall behind three games to one. You like to keep us up until all hours of the night to go into extra innings, so that we go to work all bleary-eyed and cranky the following morning. You like to make us turn off the TV in disgust only to sneak back a couple of minutes later to check on the score. But enough is enough. The last three games have been pathetic. We’ve become spoiled and we expect more of our beloved team!

I guess the point of my letter is to tell you that I’ve had the incredibly good fortune to obtain tickets for tomorrow’s game five against the Rays. So tomorrow, me, Picky, my sister and her friend (another die-hard fan) will drive six hours round trip to sit in tiny seats that probably don’t face home plate. We’ll wear personalized jerseys (away jerseys – you don’t put names on home jerseys) under our winter coats and hats because the forecast calls for it to be showery and cold. We’ll brave the T with the other crazy fans and we’ll eat a day’s salary worth of Fenway Franks. And if you dare to lose (again) and allow TAMPA BAY to clinch the ALCS in our presence I will be pissed – WICKED PISSED! Thank you for your consideration.

Sincerely,
Dames

10/10 - A Very Important Day

I just wanted to take a break from the work, work and more work that has been my life lately to recognize some very important things that take place on October 10th:

For example, did you know that today is Mario Lopez's birthday? He is 35 years old today! Thank you, Mario for filling our early-90's mornings with your mullety-goodness on Saved by the Bell.

Happy Birthday Mario Lopez!

It's also Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s Birthday. In honor of his birthday, you can get super-classy Dale Earnhardt Jr. pewter salt and pepper shakers on sale online for only $18.99! Don't need salt and pepper shakers? You can also get a Dale Earnhardt Jr. ottoman, satellite dish cover, juice box holder, North Carolina state sign, and even a premium dog jersey, all on sale today!

This dog is seriously protesting the indignity of this picture.

Happy Birthday Dale Earnhardt, Jr.!

Did you know that today is also National Cake Decorating Day? In honor of this special day, please visit this hilarious website... but not before you finish reading this post! I mean it! Do not click on that link yet! I promise this post is going somewhere, just be patient...

Hmmmm, what else, what else? Well, the game Twister was introduced 42 years ago today. Also, it is the 10th day of National Squirrel Awareness month. But I know there is something else....


Oh yeah.

Happy 30th Birthday to the best husband evah. Trust me, 30 doesn't feel any different than 29, once you get over the ridiculous notion that your age starts with a "3".

(Yeah, I know this picture is tiny... sorry.)

I know, you have been accused of being five years old. Please don't ever change that. I would be sad if you ever "grew up" and stopped having fun in life. Its one of your greatest features!

I love you.

Love,
Dames


P.S. If you break any bones playing soccer tonight and you can't help me set up for your party tomorrow you are in biiig trouble. Got it?

Cats Rule!

Why do dogs get all the credit when it comes to protecting their owners? Sure, they may scare away intruders with their intimidating barks and pointy teeth, but really, what else do they do besides slobber, beg for food and look cute?

In my opinion, cats do way more when it comes to protecting their owners from the real dangers of everyday life - dangers such as catnip-filled mice and those plastic rings that come from milk jug caps. Have a problem with those pesky dangling mini-blind cords? Don't worry, your cat has it covered. Not entirely convinced that the lump under your blankets is really just your own feet? Your cat is there and ready to pounce at the slightest movement.

My own two cats are constantly on the prowl to protect Picky and I from all sorts of dangers that are lurking in our home. Dangers such as rogue plastic drinking straws, the carpet runner on our stairway and anything that moves or makes a sound at 5:45 in the morning are no match for our cats.

Another danger that is often overlooked in the modern home is the printer. You never know when a piece of paper will shoot out of the printer causing all sorts of havoc. Thankfully, this cat has it all under control:

(It's only about a minute long and the best part is at the end so be patient.)

Cat vs Printer @ Yahoo! Video

(I kid about dogs of course. I would love to get a black lab someday. I would name him Ed.)

Dames-A-Pedia, answering your most random questions - Volume II

Dames-A-Pedia, answering your most random questions - Volume II

In case you are wondering what the heck a Dames-a-Pedia is, or have a burning need for semi-useless information about penny farthings, please click here for Volume I.

Volume II

Question: What is Macramé?

Answer: Macrame is a form of textile making using knotting rather than weaving or knitting.
It reached its peak of popularity in the 1970’s and was apparently, very useful for making hanging plant holders and owl wall decorations.

Until I actually looked it up, I’d always confused macramé with God’s Eyes, otherwise known as the crafts we made over and over and over again in first grade.

I swear, my elementary school school must have gotten a really great deal on yarn and popsicle sticks, because I think we made these things every single week. Sometimes, for a “treat” we would be able to go outside and pick out actual twigs (from nature, as our teacher used to say) to use for our projects, although I have a sneaking suspicion that the teacher just needed to go outside and have a smoke. I used to prefer to make mine out of alternating threads of blue and white yarn, but for some reason the white yarn was always at a premium and I always had to fight Natalie M. for the white yarn. That girl never liked me anyway, not since I got elected class president in the first grade and she had to settle for the vice presidency.

Anyway… Macramé…. The art of knotting rope to make hanging plant holders. Lots and lots of hanging plant holders. With the occasional owl wall decoration thrown in.

Next week: Dames-A-Pedia volume III - Random Food Edition!