Thursday, February 25, 2010

Senior Moment

Standing at the sink with all my lotions and potions in front of me. One of my favorites? Burt's Bee Honey & Orange Wax Lotion. Smells nice.

Now, we've all heard about the folks who have had a small brain fart and have spritzed their underarms with hairspray instead of deoderant. The big sillies. But not me! Never. ('Cause this dinosaur still uses roll on.) Lately, however, I've been using an aloe vera moisterizer. So I'm standing there, slathering this all over my face. Got to fight those wrinkles you know. When do I finally notice I'm using extra holding power hair jel instead?

Not until it starts to dry and my eyelids stick to my eyebrows.

I believe it's Pooh Bear who says at times like this... "Oh, bother."

Monday, February 22, 2010

Mormon Bachelor Pad

How distressing.

Sometimes being bored just doesn't pay. You know, I suffer a lot from the: it's late at night, I can't sleep, but there is little I can do that won't keep everyone else I read, scrapbook, surf the net etc. until I'm tired enough to shut down.

Ran into the Mormon Bachelor Pad last nite. Now granted, this is obviously a young, shallow, 20 something, my brain is in my penis type man boy but still...just because a thought crosses your mind probably doesn't mean you should always say it or better yet, it should go unfiltered onto the net so everyone knows what an idiot you are. I'm sure you think you're funny, but - I know your momma taught you better. (Please tell me she taught you better.)

One story from him was enuf. The young man was set up with a blind date who was a "total 9", but once he & his group got to the restuarant he realized she was gorgeous but didn't have a brain so he proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the evening and began to hit on his friend's (a former mission companion) date who was (only) a 7 but could hold an intelligent conversation. Now while he was chatting up girl #2 he made sure girl #1 was close by because, well, she was hot, and he wanted everyone to see him with her. Meanwhile girl #2 was interesting enough that her numbers were going up and he was angling to get her phone number.  He finally inquired of his mission buddy if he'd mind him moving in on the girl, 'cause after all the guy was only in town for a short while so wouldn't be able to utilize her, and our guy wanted to make sure it was okay, him being, after all, a classy kind of guy, because you know, it's "bro's before 'ho's."

Has anyone ran shrieking yet?


Oh good, because there is more...Anyway, the evening ends. Our young man, being the (cough, hairball) gentleman he is, escorts girl #1 home. Debates with himself how far he's going to try to push the good night thing....hmmm, he muses....full tongue??? Finally decides to settle with a nice hug, because after all he pretty much ditched her for the evening and he really does want to call girl #2. But damn...#1 is hot. Oh! Decisions, decisions.

Has the word SHALLOW come into play yet?

Really, I think our little man needs to marry #1. The fact that the young woman didn't clock the feckless bastard in the side of the head before placing a call for a ride home speaks volumes. If there is any justice at all the clueless duo would be granted a Darwin Award before they procreated. Which could just be a win-win solution.


Yes, I'm being way too harsh. You know, I know that "they" are out there. But still, it's so much nicer when they just keep their mouths shut, their zipper's zipped, and their fingers off the keyboard so they don't intrude on my reality.


Sunday, February 21, 2010

Snarky Blogger

Is it just me? Or is everyone pickin' on poor ol' Holden Caulfield lately?

There was an article in the local newspaper last week about Catcher in the Rye. Saw other comments on the book in a magazine article I was reading at the doctors office and it even rated a mention on the radio. Geez, the book was published what - 50 years ago? But Salinger passed away last month and Catcher in the Rye is getting some more press.


Basically the comments boiled down to it being JD Salinger's chronicle of the teen angst of "my" generation. The commentators seem split down the middle, either hated the book or loved it. So pick whichever side you'd like (I have no particular preference) - the one comment that got my attention was that if it were published today it would just be like reading something by a snarky blogger....

Bwahahaha. Nothing like a succinct comment to relegate a work of literature to a one liner.

And nothing brightens up a day like some good, old fashioned, backstabbing, venomous, snarky blogging...


Saturday, February 13, 2010


Note to self.

If you're going to trip and fall....

do not fall on the rake.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

A Tale of Two Cities oophs Kitties

The "kitten" boys are going to be six months old at the end of Feb. And you know, I feel kind of bad. I've always wanted a blue eyed cat. We've had a couple of litters that included white or siamese mix kittens but they've always been the first to be given away and as most all kittens and their momma's have been strays that came to stay, we've been grateful to those folks who will give them good homes and I haven't kicked (too much) about never getting to keep one of the "purty" ones.

So imagine my surprise when One Ear had seven kittens under our porch last August and five of them were blue eyed siamese mixes. "Two can stay," I said and I had them picked out. Tippers and Toppers. Virtual identical twins. The Youngest had other plans. The black tiger striped one was his buddy.


Okay, one purty blue eyed kitten, and the least favored child, Blackie. Turns out Blackie and Tippers, aka Chub-chub, are ying and yang. Almost exact negatives of each other. Stripes down their back, swirls on their sides and tiger stripes on their legs, just one light and the other dark. Their personalities are polar opposites also. Chub-chub is laid back, quiet and a champion napper. Blackie is intense, pushy and a total nudge.

I decide to go into the bedroom this morning, stretch out and read. I have the book in one hand, a fiber bar (quit snickering, your time is coming) in the other hand. Blackie is in the middle of my bed (again). With the back of the hand that is holding the fiber bar I try to nudge him aside. He comes wide awake and like a bunge cord springs back into position no matter where I push him. This is pointless. I lose the fiber bar. Nope. This is a two hand job. Put the book down (losing my place) and pick the little begger up, toss him out of my spot and flop down.

Geez. That was a lot of work to move one little 5 pound cat....and look who's back. Get. Get out of my face! Quit being so pushy. You may not rub yourself all over me!!!!! He will not go away. Such a need to be with a human, but not just any human. Me. You know, I already have a high maintenance cat. Monster really should be an only child and yet we have three cats in the house. I guess he didn't get the memo. Blackie/The Youngest, Chub-chub/me. And yet, such devotion...

(Have I mentioned I'm allergic to cats. Not the break out in hives if they're anywhere in the vicinity type of allergy but if I pet them and then rub my eyes without washing my hands, or if they're in my face - my eyes water. They itch. They swell. I start to sneeze....)

In no time flat, my eyes start to water. I start to sneeze. I really start to sneeze and before I know it here comes this great, big....



I sneeze. I belch. Fiber from the fiber bar sprays all over the comforter and... I fart. All at the same time. If it had been an earthquake zone everyone would have run for cover.

Mercy. If that had happened in public I would have died. Plumb dug a hole and climbed right in. In the privacy of my room, however, it was just rather astounding. I didn't know you could combine all body functions at once like that. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or strangle the dang cat.

And then, as I endeavored to brush the remains of the fiber bar from the bed and pick up my book...

One little cat creeps up and curls against my back just as close and as tight as one little black cat possibly could.

Not a blue eye in sight anywhere.

Thursday, February 4, 2010


Oh dear. Look at the posts. Positive. Negative. Silly. Positive. Negative. Philosophical....Am I scaring you yet?

It's not as bad as it seems.


I promise.


Oh, get your thumb out of your mouth and stay out of the corner... and no one will get hurt.

Queue up Vincent Price's evil laugh then fade to black.

Gotta love having a blank page to let your mind fall out on, huh?

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Stupid Woman

Cruised into the local mini mart for a shot of Pepsi. Pull up beside a 4 wheel drive pickup. Turn off the van and start pawing thru my purse for some change. I look up and see a woman inside. She was just shooting the breeze with the clerk but now that I've pulled up she is staring at me. She keeps staring.


Do I have something stuck between my teeth? Wait, she's not that close. So I kinda look around as I start to open my door and then see that the window of the pickup next to me is partially open and a pit bull has its head hanging out.


It. Is. Watching. Me. Intently. If I get out, and the dog lunges, I have no where to go. Meanwhile the woman inside the store is still staring. Hmmmm. I quietly close my door, put my change down, start the van, back up and move over a space. The dog watches my every move. The woman takes a step forward so she can still see me and continues to stare.

This is a little weird. I scope the situation out and see that the window is open a smidge too far...if the dog decided to try and jump out, it might make it...but it also has a lead rope attached to its collar which is then tied to a hand grip on the door frame so unless the dog slips its collar it will simply dangle, choking itself. Not a nice picture, (but let's stick to what's important here!!!) I think I can make it into the store safely.

The woman watches me walk in. (Still staring) As I open the door, she starts toward me and in a chatty voice informs me, "She's a really nice dog, she won't hurt you, it's not a problem..." and is going to continue to talk. Oh brother. I'm really not interested in having this conversation. By the way, have I mentioned I'm a postal worker? Know a lot of  dogs. Not this one but I can guarantee you most of the people who assure you that Fluffy is an absolute love and is totally harmless have (of course) never seen Fluffy when they are not home. Fluffy has a tendency to take guarding the house, the kids or ahh...the truck, seriously. Fluffy has bitten me. I don't like it.

So... I say,

"If you have to watch her that closely, she's a problem." And keep walking.

Gee, was I rude????

Y'know, I wasn't messing with her, or her dog. There was no negative body language or acting all freaky outside. Please, just leave me alone. I should be able to walk into the store without having to worry about being attacked (by the dog or her owner.) Yes?

So when I walk off continue about my business and leave stupid woman talking to herself she gets in a huff. Seriously lady, you are wasting my time. I'm thinking - go away and take your damn pit bull, that you have to watch every second you're not with it...with you.

SCORE! She leaves. I go to the counter to pay for the pop. But - apparently stupid woman is a friend of the clerk. Now I get attitude because I wasn't polite and didn't engage stupid woman in long conversation about her stupid dog.


Arggh. Obviously she was worried about what the dog might do. Why does she need me to tell her that it's okay that she is not a responsible dog owner? Why would she not just close the pickup window or come out of the store and take care of the mutt?

I know...she's a really nice animal and I'm just a snippy old woman who will learn one of these days to just be quiet and keep walkin'.

You're not holding your breath, right?

Monday, February 1, 2010

Bumper Snicker

GUN CONTROL means using both hands.