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The WillowKitty, I cannot find her ANYWHERE

I've looked everywhere. Everywhere! Our place is less than 800 square feet, and I KNOW where she hides; where could she *be*?

Did I mention I've looked EVERYWHERE?

In the closet? No. I already checked the closet. See:

On second thought, let's check that closet again:

Nope. No WillowKitty there. Where IS she?

The earth, it has PMS

And thus the earth, it is not happy.

Since 5PM yesterday evening, I've encountered many unhappy people.

People who bring - I am not kidding - boxes and GARBAGE BAGS full of Ben-N-Jerry's ice cream onto the bus, and then get freaky when it melts! In the 35 degree heat (um, 100F)!

He actually yelled at the people who gasped at the flowing liquid, themselves hoping they wouldn't get splashed on, "All RIGHT. You don't have to make it a CIRCUS."

Because hot damn, I sure wanted it to be a circus!

People who run the amber (orange) light KNOWING there is not enough room and they'll be fully in the middle of the intersection, stopped, blocking traffic in the other direction after the traffic light has changed. Drivers who, in complete disregard for anybody, just do what they can to get ahead. And who, when the pedestrians start walking, ALMOST RUN THEM OVER.

(And ok, ya know what I did? My wee bag had an empty tupperware container in it. And I swung the bag to gently hit the car, because DAMN DUDE, you were pretty durn near to taking my FOOT. But the tupperware made a much louder bang than I anticipated, and I pretended to be, you know, oblivious to the attention of every single person nearby, the driver especially. I crossed the street and out of the corner of my eye saw him GLARING at me. I pretended to be lost in my happy! happy! happy! world, and as I rounded the next corner I heard *someone* yell, "STUPID!" Because being entirely self-absorbed to the point of risking other people's well-being, that is not the least bit dumb at all.)

People who are bus drivers that DRIVE BY ENTIRE STOPS FULL OF PEOPLE even though the bus is not nearly three quarters full.

Or who stop to let people OFF the bus, but don't let anybody ON.

People who honk and yell and drive like a member of the Eeeediot family.

People who get pissy when you USE THE WORD "BOOGER."

Booger! Booger-booger-booger-booger-booger!

People who are grumpy and gruff, who refuse to smile.

People who argue a point.

People who condescend.

It's beginning to damage my calm.

And now I know the universe is out of whack, because a friends dad was diagnosed with IPF (life expectancy is short. Like, in the early 60s; there is no cure). And now she has not only this to process but also the concern that she or her sister may get it also.

Earth, please for the LOVE OF OH I DON'T KNOW, HOW ABOUT EVERYTHING, WILL YOU STOPSTOPSTOP ALREADY WITH THE PMS?

Two out of two twins agree

My good friend Mary has just moved 1250 miles from the US Midwest to the US East coast. In discussing the goings-on of the week, we have both decided what our ideal job would be. A housewife.

My husband is laughing at this point. There are certain "zones" in our home which, though somewhat tucked away, are fairly unseemly. But if I had the almost 50 hours a week I spend at work and commuting, with the one goal of making our home fantastic, you could invite the White Glove Brigade over and they wouldn't find a jot or tittle out of place. Nor cat hair, nor shoes, nor strewn articles of clothing.

Evereything would be dusted, vacuumed, made, washed, fluffed or refreshed. The light switches would be washed, as would be the door frames, dinner would be made, laundry done, windows washed and everything vacuumed.

And I would love it.

Perhaps "illiteray agency" is more accurate

From the internet:

Literay Agency Seeking New Talent

Apparently they are bereft of talent within.

"Meeeeemories, all alone in the guuuuuunfiiire ..."

Remember when our neighbors decided to fire shotguns from their balcony at 4 AM?

Déjà vu.

There was an explosion outside our place tonight. I saw an accompanying flash of light through the window. Like a gun. Or a wee bomb. It was LOUD.

Things seem to be okay now.

What is Canada coming to? It's almost as though we had actual crime right here in the neighborhood.

Baby don't write

I know.

I KNOOOOOW.

I last wrote an interesting post on July 2nd, 1768, which, is hard, man, as I wasn't even born for like, a thousand years from then.

So. Anyhow.

I went to Florida. I went to Pensacola. For two whole days.

Pensacola is: warm; friendly; home to a teeny-ish airport (12 gates in all); home to some beautiful beaches; a FANTASTIC place to out to eat; home to a lot of strip malls; humid.

The wedding (which we went for) was fantastic, and we love our new friends (HELLO Lyn and Patrice!) and had a great time hanging out with our already-friends and toasting their happiness. It was so good to see them happy and MARRIED. AND the bride is moving to Vancouver to be with her husband and hang out with all us Canadians.

Note: We Canadians sure can be snooty when talking to Americans. Well actually, we can be bitchy and try to pass it off as good-natured joking. I myself am American and lived in the US for six years. I have a lot of compassion for any American trying to make a new life in Canada, especially those Americans who passionately love their home country. L, I've got your back. Take no guff. Don't defend; kill em with kindness. Did you know that Canada pollutes MORE per capita than the USA? No. Guff. Alrighty.

Oh-KAY now, what else?

Well, the cat peed on the bed, which: Deep Fried Mars Bars on a Stick! Willow! Must you?

In her defense, WE, the owners, let the litter pan get to being smelly. It was scooped, but still smelly. Intoxicatingly smelly. Did you know that cat pee smells like ammonia? Yeah. And pungent. So, she did what any self-respecting kitty would do; she stayed the heck out.

I think we need to teach her that in case of emergency, she should go in the bathtub. How do I do that?

So we have a duvet to clean and a house to disinfect. Hubby got the new FRESH kitty litter. (The WORLD'S BEST KITTY LITTER, which apparently still means you have to CHANGE it. World's best my ass.)

Speaking of cat pee, have any yall seen THIS? It's a litter pan that you ROLL OVER and magically all of the clumpy bits fall into a tray that you simply dump. I'm in love.

I've been re-in touch with some friends from 12 years ago, and it's so great to swap emails. We've still kept mutual friends, but weren't able to stay in touch ourselves. It's been a good reunion. I sent them pics of my husband, one of us at our wedding, and told them all about my EXCITING. LIFE. They are so dear to me.

My new job is great, tho not without challanges, but without them what would life be like? And I mean REALLY. My coworkers are wonderful, which is what I wanted most out of this move, so I'm happy. In spite of the challenges, my stress level is low and I don't dread coming to work. Such a change over the past two years. GAH. TWO WHOLE YEARS. Yeah, I'm going to be wanting to make this work.

We also have a new favourite wine:

Outback Chase Cabernet Sauvignon, and I gather our local shops do not see it regularly, hence why it has a display but no spot on the shelf. BUT YOMMAY. If you see it, it is definitely worth picking some up.

And it's not a f*cking merlot!

The name eludes me, though. I forget the name every time. It's not a memorable name, to me, anyway. I always forget it, and I don't typically do that. Write it down. Maybe get a tattoo. Don't forget the name.

You know who cracked me up today? The pretty Amalah with her wicked profanity. Read on:

"I'll be leaving New York tomorrow, a thought that is making me increasingly sad, because hot fucking whores on a platter, I adore this city."

That. Is dirty. But she made me laugh muchos.

I've also discovered Who In The What Now? (GENIUS name), a word-association blog run by one of my favourite internet gurus, Glark. Glark is wikid. Glark is kewl. Glark has cool friends. Glark is all over the freaking internet. And he hocks wikid shirts over at Glarkware.com, which, by the way, has the easiest shopping cart I've EVER USED online, and he's in cahoots with the Television Without Pity and Fametracker websites, doing their drool-worthy design.

ANYHOO, Who In The What Now? is a fairly simple concept where he posts a word and we all make a comment based on what we think about when that word comes to mind. It's pretty freaking cool.

Well, for word freaks.

So THAT's my recent bit-o goodly bits. Any questions?

HOW can someone SO DARLING pee the bed???

Honestly kitty, how could you?

Brie

She's purdy.

Photo by D.

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Via Email

Me, this morning, to D:

I've bitten my cheek HARD. I think in my sleep.

D, to me, in rsponse:

I'll see your "I bit my cheek" and I'll raise you a "the cat pucked hairballs on my side of the bed."

Then I laughed at him for saying "pucked." And maybe a little bit for his having to clean up said puck.

This is what happens when you don't have a Mac

My work computer is agéd. Very. Agéd. Neither it's floppy or CD drives work, it runs Windows 98, and it contantly sings 1950s Broadway show tunes. One of the ways it plagues me is that upon internet browsing pages often load like the one below:

Sometimes the page will reload via hitting the refresh button and sometimes it doesn't. Thirty refreshes can produce no result.

Just now I was trying to load Cute Overload, and refreshed over and over and over, and the page would not show.

Then I got frustrated and said, "Damn it computer, you're KEEPING ME FROM THE BUNNIES!"

I know I complain, but it's only because I have a lot to complain about

Dude. Dewd. Dooooooooooooood.

Sore, streppy-feeling throat? Check!

Exhaustion from 2 solid weeks of raging insomnia? Check!

Frustration related to above? Checkity-check!

Frustration about OTHER things? Super-dee-duper-dee-check!

Urge to go home and curl up fully clothed underneath the blankets (with the cats)? TOTALLY OFF THE CHARTS, DUDE. TOTALLY. OFF. THE CHARTS.

It's 10 AM. I can have a vodka martini now, right?