Blown Fuse

That'll learn her.

Fucking cat just jumped in the toilet. Not on the toilet. Not on top of the toilet. In. As compulsion rather than logic is her greatest-occuring trait, Puffy jumps on things without determining whether they're sound for climbing. She scampers up your leg and uses your waistband as a ledge to claw herself up your back.

I was in the bathroom for two seconds - just lon enough to put the elastic tie back in my hair. Before I know it, I see a blur of grey and hear "splash!" Apparently, she misjudged the fact that sometimes there's a hole in the toilet seat, and fell butt-in, knocking down all the crap on top of the toilet tank in the process. Good thing I cleaned the damn thing last week.

Now the shower curtain's all wet, the wall is wet, all my hand towels are wet, and her bottom half is wet. I chased her down and gave her a vigorous rub with the "cat" towel, which she didn't appreciate. oh well.

"Maybe you can ask public radio for some of the money I gave them?"

I think there should be some quid pro quo between college graduates and their alma matters...

If we have to abide by that honor code blah blah, they shouldn't call us for donations until AFTER we've paid off our tens of thousands of dollars of student loan debt.

I'm just saying.

Charity begins at home.

I spent a couple of hours this morning cleaning out the closet in what will be the baby's room. Admittedly, a lot of the stuff in there is stuff I just thought was too good to throw out. I've reevaluated that thinking. I'm not a hoarder. I'm the kind of person who'll throw some crap out to buy new crap. My problem really stemmed from the fact that I had a lot of my childhood stuffed animals and whatnot stored in that closet. I have a crate of my favorite late uncle's books in there and some writing supplies.

I'm proud to announce that half of the contents of the closet are now prepared to be picked up by the charity of my choice on Wednesday...as well as some clothes, purses and shoes I'll never wear again. I'm going to arrange to have the county library take the books, and half the stuffed animals are going out to charity.

Purging feels good.

The audacity!

Why would a cat have the audacity to audibly whine whenever you try to remove her fat ass from your chair? Your own personal chair - the one that is permeated with your scent because you spend 50% of your home hours in it?

The thing is, if I take the cushion out of the chair, she'll stay off...but man, if this chair isn't hard as a brick. I just want to be able to sit in my desk chair. The whole seat. Right now, I have about half cheek hangng off because Puffy won't get from behind me.

I'll try hissing at her. See if that works...

"Does not share well with others."

By now you all know that I've taken a position through AmeriCorps. I was viciously reminded via mail today that I'll have to share a hotel room with someone during training next month.

I just don't like strangers that much. I don't know anyone else participating in the program this year, so I can't request a particular room assignment. For four days, I can tolerate someone I know at least a little bit. It's luck of the draw. I could get some tree-hugging weirdo that wears the same pair of hemp underwear each day, or worse yet - someone who has to watch television to fall asleep. Don't dare interrupt a pregnant woman's sleep.

I haven't been forced to share lodging with another female since the end of 2001, and that didn't end well. She was trifling, and I was never home.

As I'll be 5 1/2 months pregnant when I'm there, I want a room and bathroom to myself. I don't want to be sharing a room with some 18-year-old who makes friends easily and will have people sitting on her bed (and mine) all hours of the night chatting about how excited she is about starting college. Seeing has how my pay will be cut severely after this month, I should just work through the pain and take the free room, right? The very idea makes me want to break out in hives.

I'm also regretting that I rejected driving down there in my own vehicle in favor of a pre-paid plane ticket. If I end up having to pay for a room out-of-pocket to guarantee peaceful sleep, I'm not going to want to rent a car. Also, I'll want to book the cheapest hotel room I can find, even if it's not in the same venue as the rest of the trainees. If I'm across town, I'm going to have to drive something...shit.

Have you ever been forced to share a hotel room with a coworker (for business purposes)?

"Let's go Caa-aanes *clap clap clap clap clap*"

I'm what you'd call a "fair weather fan." As a UNC alum, it's my sworn duty, as written in very tiny font between the lines of the Honor Code, that should Tar Heel basketball be going on, I must observe the basketball religion of facing Chapel Hill five times each day to pray and check the scores online.

See, I just don't care unless they're winning. If those boys get into the play-offs, I'm right there at work on casual Friday with my Carolina blue insignias on. If they suck, which happens often the year after an exemplary team decides to all enter the NBA draft at once, I just state the truth to those who gloat - I don't really care about basketball. Or any sport, for that matter. I was a frickin' band geek/cheerleader. I'm all for supporting the team and doing cartwheels and shit to make them feel all warm and fuzzy, but damned if I'm going to glue myself to the screen. I save that zeal for the first few episodes of American Idol each season.

So, our fair state has had a lot of attention for our professional sports clubs lately. The Panthers are doing pretty damn well for an 11-year old expansion team. The Hurricanes, well. I've been to exactly one Hurricanes game. I was so bored that I began people-watching to entertain myself. Regardless, they're one game away from either winning the Stanley Cup, or REALLY pissing off a lot of people who actually give a shit.

Am I going to watch the Hurricanes tonight in game seven? No. I'll be too busy watching reruns on Animal Planet. Better believe the first thing I do tomorrow morning is find out who won, though.

Puffy, I want to ... grr!

Puffy Savage is dangerously close to eviction. Most of the time, I love my cats almost as much as I'd love my own child, but this week she's been taxing my nerves.

On Wednesday, Scott sent me a cryptic email at work telling me to call him because he needed to tell me something.

Turned out that one of the cats had been using the recycling bin in the kitchen as a litter box. She had left a great pyramid of poop on top of a stack of newspapers. Scott cleaned it up, and as we had no evidence of the true culprit I naturally assumed it was Bodie trying to mark her territory.

I'm glad I was in the kitchen this morning eating my once/week breakfast. I had fed the cats and about ten minutes later while I was eating my Fruity Pebbles, I hear a scratching sound coming from the living room. The sort of scratching that is normally associated with a cat covering litter. I heave my fat ass out of my hard chair and do a sprint (as much as a lazy pregnant woman can sprint) to the living room. Puffy, who had been eyeballing Bodie's bed after breakfast for which I had chastised her (because Bodie don't play that) had went back to the bed to take a leak. She also made a nice little trail of pee around the bed and on the fucking rug.

As much as I want to whip her ass right now, I'm exercising great restraint.

I called the vet to see if I could get her seen today, but they're booked solid, so we'll just have to keep a watchful eye on her until Monday, especially after meals.

Meanwhile, I'm going to go buy her a larger litter box to see if that rectifies the problem. If it's an issue of Bodie terrorizing her out of the laundry room altogether, I don't know what I'm going to do. There's nowhere else in the house that we can put a litter box discretely. If it's a territory issue and Puffy is afraid to go near Bodie's box (they have separate boxes), we might have to put up one of those toddler restraining walls to provide at least an illusion of different areas...I hope that the larger box will solve the problem, though. She's been using the same little box since she was 3 months old.

Makes me rage from within.

You may not know this from reading this blog, but I am a polite person. I hold doors (within reason), I say please and thank you, I keep my voice at a well-modulated, quiet level, and on occasion I even let beyotches cut in front of me in line.

That being said, I am a fervent advocate of the "ladies first" or at least "first to approach" rule. I'll explain.

I've had a headache all day. It was obviously one of those headaches brought on by having too little caffeine in my diet, so I went to Starbucks on my way home to get a frappuchino. This particular Starbucks has one entrance inside the grocery store and the other on the street. I entered from the street at about the same time as a guy from the store (40ish. Full-time preppy.). Who ordered first?

Yeah, he did. He didn't exactly cut line, but you can be the judge of whether he's a jackass. He came in with his four grocery bags (bran cereal and potato chips), and put them down in front of the chilled dessert display. He took out his reading glasses and squinted into the case. This was my clue that he was not ready to order. I was standing in front of the register, meanwhile.

The barista makes eye contact with me and asks to take my order. He walked over and made his order instead (a piece of cake and an itty bitty coffee). I'm just standing there with my mouth open about to say "tall...." He basically elbowed his way into my personal space to pay the woman. I didn't move until another barista walked up to take my order.

If he had obviously been in line in front of me, that'd be one thing, but if we come in at the same time, shouldn't the lady order first? That shit pisses me off to no end. This isn't about me eschewing women's lib in order to get a favorable spot in line. If I had come in with a stroller and kid hanging off my tit, he'd probably had acted the same way.

A Good Saturday Meme

Saw this at Susie's.

5 things in my fridge:
*Half a carton of orange juice
*Half of a half-gallon of milk that expired yesterday
*Bricks of extra-sharp cheese
*A case of Dr Pepper
*Half cans of wet cat food

5 things in my closet:
*The heavy winter comforter
*A plastic bin of stuff (graduation regalia, etc.) I need to store
*1 black belt I won't be able to get around my waist again until kiddo's in preschool
*Knee-high boots
*A hot pink baby blanket someone gave me for my cousin

5 things in my purse:
*Musician's Friend lip balm
*PalmOne
*Wallet
*iPod
*Cell Phone

5 things in my car:
*Briefcase of work training materials
*Blanket to protect carpet from Christmas tree
*Umbrella
*Five packs of Taco Bell "fire" sauce
*ATM deposit envelopes

5 people I want to torture with this meme:
*Smoke it if you got it.

"The exhaust appears to be fine. Whilst we are on the subject of expelling waste gas...."

Check out this eBay UK ad for a Ford Galaxy. If you scroll down a ways, you'll see all the questions that potential bidders asked about the vehicle.

Having just sold a car, I understand how incredibly frustrated this guy must have been.

Myrtle Beach Recap

So, our stay in Myrtle Beach was overall pleasant. In hindsight, the one thing that could have been a little better was the hotel. You always run a risk when you're booking through places like Hotwire and Priceline.com that for the price you pay you're going to end up with something at the very bottom of your quality selection.

I booked a room through Hotwire at the M Grande Resort (and spa!). I was kind of excited when I went to the website and saw that they were renovating and that the rooms would have nice new furniture. Well, we didn't get one of those rooms. More commentary in the extension. (Oh, the picture was in front of one of the Hard Rock Cafe's spinx. The exression on my face is "Hurry the hell up.")

So, the drive down took a little over four hours. The traffic on the main strip, 17 Business, was hellacious and there were red lights every 500 feet or so. When we finally got to check into the hotel, I guess it was around 7, my first impression of the lobby was "Oh." The front desk attendant was listless and spoke in a volume so low that I wanted to check her pulse just to make sure she was all right.

We parked and went upstairs to our room. 1216. As I stated, the hotel was in midst of "renovations" which were supposed to modernize all the rooms. I guess they hadn't made it to the 12th floor yet. The bathroom was about half-updated (everything but the tub), and the rest of the room was a disappointment.

The furniture was old and there was a sketchy looking white stain on the sole chair in the room. Oh, and did I mention it was musty? I actually didn't notice that scent until yesterday morning when I woke up and smelled cigarette smoke being piped in from some idiot in the adjoining room or out in the hall.

At the retail price they list these rooms for (around $180/night), we got Super 8 quality digs. To make matters worse, it was the weekend before senior week, so every local heathen and hussy fresh out of high school was in Myrtle Beach and screaming on my floor at 1 in the morning.

Hotel aside, we had a good time. We went to the outlet malls, the Ripley's museum*, the Ripley's aquarium*, played a round of miniature golf, and sunned ourselves on Sunday. Scott came away with an interesting red tinge and my white coworkers are no longer tanner than me.

I wouldn't change a thing except the room. I hated to come back yesterday.

*see my flickr album for all the vacation photos