Show Me Where The Magic Happens

Not THERE you pervs! Your desk!

I'm not sure if this has been done before - it probably has. As they say, there is nothing new under the sun! Still, if it has happened before and you have already done something like it then please bear with me.

I want to see where all of you mess around on the computer. I have visions of my fellow bloggers lounging in luxury with a laptop on one knee and a plate of bon-bons on the other. A half-nekkid man slave (Sawyer!) slowly fans you with a palm frond while simultaneously serving you chilled (preferably alcoholic) beverages. Husbands and children do all the housework and somehow manage to work in a foot rub or two as well... Yes, that's how my imagination works.

Meanwhile, I sit at a laptop that sometimes winds up on my sofa while I'm watching reality tv/mysteries/old movies. My desk has a printer/scanner, several knick-knacks from various travels, a clock, a thesaurus and dictionary and a mail-sorter in the shape of a cat.

I sit next to my sliding glass doors and when I'm on the computer I get to watch the sky lighten in the morning and darken in the evening. I like hearing the bugs and birds outside, but sometimes it's kind of creepy at night because I fear that there is something lurking out there watching me on the computer (overactive imagination anyone?)

Sure, the pink carpet is still there and the walls have yet to be painted - but all in all, its a happy place. Especially when my cup of coffee is full and steaming hot!

Here is a picture of my desk, now - show me yours!! I'm tagging you all - if you've read this post, show us the money! ;)

Moving on... Help, please!

Last night I dashed off a post in response to some surprising news. I don't handle surprises well. I indulged in some "poetic" self pity and went to bed. Then I woke up ashamed of myself and deleted the post. If you read it and commented, thank you.

Anyway, who has time to wallow in self-pity when there's amazing TV to watch! Tonight is Bones, America's Next Top Model AND Project Runway. I'm going to have to Tivo at least one of those shows and I just can't make up my mind. I'm addicted to Bones now. It is filling the void left by Sawyer and Jack in the hot man department. Booth doesn't take off his shirt nearly enough for my taste, but then he doesn't have the excuse of being stranded on a deserted island either. Ah well...

Tomorrow is the season premiere of Survivor and I am wary. Last season was pretty good and if the tradition holds true, this season will suck donkey balls. However, I will reserve judgement for at least two episodes. Oh, who am I kidding! I'll be judging them from the get-go. That's my favorite part of reality TV! Judging others from the safety of my home.

With all of this TV to watch, I almost forgot about an assignment from work - yes, work. I have been assigned to put together a "Spa Basket" to raffle off for the Christmas Party Fund. When the Party Leader (makes him sound communist!) told me that I had been volunteered for the task I was shocked. I mean, really? Do I look like I have the faintest idea of what would occur at a spa?

I need help. So far I have a basket - what else do I need? I was thinking about getting some wine and maybe a loofah along with some candles. What else? Pedicure set? Bubble bath? Suggestions? Help!

Captain Frisky-Nibbles and the Bitching Kitty

That would be my pets, my two cats. They've been with me for 14 years and I love them very much. Their real names are Louis and Zephyr, but I often call them other things such as Cheeze Doodle and Lou-burger. Their superhero names are Captain Frisky-Nibbles and the Bitching Kitty. See, Louis likes to nip at people when they neglect petting him and Zephyr likes to bitch and moan.

Louis is kind of a whore. Specifically, he is a lap whore. If there is a seated person in my house he will be in their lap soaking up as much love as he can. He is especially attracted to men, people that allergic to cats and people that are afraid of cats - but he's not too picky. He'll sit on anyone as long as they hold still long enough. If the stroking starts to slow down he will gently nip the offender's hand in order to remind them of their duty. He's very conscientious that way.

Zephyr is my baby. She has been my cuddle-bun for 14 years. She will snuggle under the covers with me at night and disdain anyone else who tries to pet her. She never "talked" much until after my daughter was born. Since then she has bitched and complained about her reduced status every day. Seriously, I wish I was joking. As soon as we come home she eyes Muffin and starts in.

"Merrrowww, merrroooooowwww, merow." (roughly translated means "Aren't you done with that hairless pink monkey YET?!? Get rid of it already!")

God help Muffin is she attempts to pet Zephyr - Zephyr won't have it. Zephyr gives her the stink eye and slowly skulks upstairs to lick her belly in frustration.

As you can imagine, after 14 years I've become very attached to my furry babies. Lately they have had some health problems and I've begun to fear for their mortality. I imagine coming home to stiff furry carcasses and it brings tears to my eyes. I fervently hope that I find them before Muffin does because I can not even contemplate the mental scars inflicted upon her if she found a dead kitty first.

Morbid much? Oh yeah. But, I'm not alone! A good friend, who's cat Lilly is the mother of my cats, frequently obsesses about her cat's mortality too. Also, Sarah Neilson recently wrote a post about her choice to adopt a new pug and part of that decision was determined by her dog Daisy's age and mortality.

I guess the reason I'm writing about this is because as of today they are both still with me but I'm not sure how much longer I have with them. This week the vet discovered that Zephyr has Cardio Myopothy - a degenerative heart condition. Louis has stones in his bladder and continues to suffer from bladder infections. They are both in decline - which I think is kind of a gyp because cats are supposed to live well into their 20's!

I love you, my little babies! You've been with me longer than most of my friends, providing love and support and only asking for the occasional (ok, frequent) belly rub. I'll miss you terribly when you go, but I won't let you suffer. However, it would be super if you could get a kitty modeling job to help pay for the vet bill! No? Ok, just lay in that patch of sunshine then - you've earned it.

Cat v/s Printer

In my house the scenario is more like "Preschooler v/s Printer" but my cats are haters as well. Enjoy...

Video courtesy of Cute Overload.

I Can Spell!

When I was younger, back in the dark ages, I had the worst time with spelling. It never seemed to click with me. I used to dread spelling tests because I knew I was hopeless. I blamed my inability to spell on the fact that I am left-handed. (It's a "handy" excuse. I use it a lot) I was always frustrated by teachers who told me to look up the word in a dictionary if I didn't know how to spell it. Hello, McFly! If I can't spell it then how can I look it up? Logic people, logic!

Then, along came spell check! It was love at first correction! I didn't have to know how to spell anymore! Spell check would fix all of my mistakes! Except when there was a homonym or something - in that case I would just look like an idiot. Which, come to think of it, happens frequently enough without spellcheck...

After many many many years of enjoying spell check I began to resent it. I began to hate seeing words underlined in red. It was as if my 3rd grade teacher was grading my work all over again! I actually began to pay attention to words that I frequently misspelled like maintenance, unconscious, necessary, convenience (for some reason I could never get these right).

Pretty soon I was ambitious enough to tackle miscellaneous, obsequious, ubiquitous and other strangely spelled words. Since starting school again two years ago I have had to write a multitude of papers and every time it becomes a game. A challenge. Me versus Spellcheck. And boy do I love it when I can just hit "ignore" because stupid spellcheck doesn't recognize some obscure IT technical term. Take that, Spellcheck! HA HA!

Even Blogger and I face off from time to time. I can not even describe the swell of satisfaction when I click on the tiny little check mark and discover zero misspellings. I suppose I've just found another slice of life to obsess over - but at least this obsession has a practical purpose! My elementary school teachers may not have been able to motivate me to spell but by golly, spell check did!

(as a foot note, I just hit spell check and it found that I had misspelled "describe" "tackle" and "elementary." So much for my super spelling prowess!)

Guilty Pleasures

Have I mentioned that I like to read? Alot? Because its true. I love books and I love love love to suspend my disbelief and traipse off to unknown parts for a lovely adventure involving manly men and ponies. Ok, maybe the pony part is a little over the top, but the rest is pretty accurate.

I resisted the Harry Potter phenomenon, initially. I was all "I'm not jumping on THAT bandwagon, thank-you-very-much" and lo, I eventually succumbed and devoured the first four books in one weekend.

Since that time, the "enlightened by Harry" time, I have tried very hard not to poo-poo any popular literature. Sometimes I like it (Secret Life Of Bees) and sometimes I just can't get into it (anything by Nicholas Sparks - SORRY!!!)

**side note: I don't know how or why I can suspend my disbelief enough to enjoy Harry Potter and yet not enough to enjoy Mr. Sparks. Maybe I find the idea of wizards roaming the planet more plausible than finding true love. Or maybe I'm just weird. Could go either way.**

Fast forward to summer 2008. I happened to read about the hullabaloo caused by the trailer for the movie "Twilight." I was curious about a movie that had the potential to break the hearts of millions of teen girls so, I looked it up. Turns out the movie is based on a book! Oh joy! I went to my library's website to see if any copies were available. None. So, I put my name on the waiting list. Guess which number I was, guess!

189!!!!

HOLY CRAP what kind of book is this that has 189 people on it's waiting list? Wah! I had resigned myself to a very long wait when my younger sister happened to mention that she had the book! She was reading it, but when she was finished she would give it to me. Joy, joy, joy, happy dance of joy!

Fast forward to Labor Day weekend. Little Sis presented me with not only the first book, Twilight, but the second book, New Moon, as well! Isn't she great? (Will she comment on my posts? No. Still great though)

I read Twilight in two days - and the only reason it took two days is because I had to take care of my child and drive several hours. I was all for allowing Muffin wallow in her own filth and forage for her own food but I was at my parents house and we all know how Grandmamas like to see the babies happy! whatever.

I'm not saying that it was the best book ever written because that is certainly not the case. I didn't relate to the characters at all. The subject matter was unbelievable to say the least. The author somehow perfectly encapsulated the agony of teen love - which is not something I ever care to repeat. And yet... And yet, I couldn't put it down to save my life! It's like watching a horribly fascinating train wreck of human emotion.

After reading Twilight, I took a break. I eyeballed the second book, New Moon, suspiciously. Unwilling to give up my free will for the duration of that novel, I caught up on other books. But New Moon waited. It lurked. It whispered sweet nothings from my bookshelf, eventually seducing me with it's promise of teen angst. Monday evening I submitted to it's will.

I only have a few chapters left. I saved myself from finishing the book last night. I want to linger over the cheese-tastic finale and savor a (mostly) happy ending. Right now, I'm number 3 on the waiting list for Eclipse and number 102 on the waiting list for Breaking Dawn.

I hope to finish the Twilight Saga before Thanksgiving so that I can get on with my life. Is this a review or a recommendation? No, it's a warning. Stay far far away or you may fall under the spell too!

Changing My Routine

I KNOW! Big step, right? At least, according to that therapist I took Muffin to way back in the spring. According to her, a little change would do us both some good and help us adjust to bigger changes more easily and blah, blah, blah... Well, as far as I know that's therapy talk for "switch it up a little! You're in a rut!"

Since my sister left to pursue married life and all the joys therein, Muffin and I have been trying out a few new routines. Not the kind that involve a trapeze or gymnastics mat (neither of us is that coordinated - sorry Muffin!) but the kind that involves grocery trips, dinner, baths, etc. I believe that we have developed one that works - but I'm concerned that it maybe be considered too rigid. AGAIN!

Is anyone else comforted by a nice strict schedule? Do you find comfort in knowing exactly what you're going to do on any given day of the week? Am I the only one who "schedules" relaxing time?

All I can say is that I am more content than I have been in ages. I sleep eight hours each night (without sleep aids!), I'm eating better and Muffin and I spend a lot more "quality" time together. I'm caught up on my homework, my leisure reading and my house/yard work! I'm actually planning projects and getting excited rather than looking around the house in despair.

Maybe switching up the routine once in a blue moon means finding a better way to do things rather than giving up a schedule all together. That's the lesson I'm going to take from this experience anyway. I'm sure we'll be do for another change in six months - so I'll just go pencil that in on the master calendar.

hee hee!