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Little Bits of Stupid Real Life

I *HATE* These Things…

Peaceful
Peaceful
Taken August 11, 2008 with Canon PowerShot A550

…but Suzi tagged me with a meme, and I’ll do it because she kinda scares me (she drinks MOLD!).

Before I get to that, though, I would like to point out the peacefulish picture above. That’s how life has been lately, although I’m pretty much either at work, or asleep. That’s right – I said asleep. Insomnia no longer plagues me.

I think it helps that I’m outside a lot, running a lot, eating more…. And I get to dance at work (I don’t dance alone – I make everybody dance). I’m finally working a “Dream Job” again…. This is the one I dreamed of having when I was 4. Guess I’m late with pretty much everything.

I haven’t had any time to write – I only just got my little Basement Loft back in order after three weeks of doing NO housework other than laundry. It took me less than an hour. I moved to the right place, didn’t I? 🙂

Okay, so on to the dreaded meme. I’m supposed to come up with 7 random things about myself that few, if any, people know. I don’t think there’s 7 random things about me that *I* know, truthfully, but I’ll give it a shot (I told you that Suzi scares me, right?).

1) I have one eyebrow. Or I would have one eyebrow, if I didn’t delete the bit between what would make two eyebrows.

2) I’ve lived in 22 different places (abodes, not cities) in my lifetime. That’s equivalent to moving house once every 1.9 years. Pretty bad for someone who doesn’t adapt to change easily, huh?

3) I shaved my head when I was 35. I told everybody I did it for charity (which was true, really – hey, I raised $500!), but really it was because I had always wanted to see what I’d look like, and the charity-thing gave me a good excuse to do so.

4) I’m going to shave my head again when I’m 50. You can hold me to that (…and this time, I might keep it shaved.).

5) After I moved into my first apartment here in the Sault, I lived in my claw-foot bathtub. When I wasn’t at work, I was in a hot bath with a book. I even ate my meals in the bathroom.

6) My first marriage wasn’t supposed to be a marriage. I was asked to have a child, not get married. I only got the “married” part because I wouldn’t have a child out of wedlock at the age of 19. My husband never got the child part, so I guess I didn’t hold up my end of the bargain.

7) My one and only child was born out of wedlock. We didn’t get married until two months after she was born, and then we got married through the mail. I’m a bad, BAD girl, I guess. 😉

Now I’m supposed to tag a bunch of other people. I’m not going to, though.

So there.

Random Song for the Day: “America” – Marcy Playground

Categories
Fur-Babies Little Bits of Stupid Wednesday Zenishness...

This is About as Exciting as It Gets…

Lazin' Around
Lazin’ Around…
Taken February 25, 2008 with
Canon PowerShot A550
© Les Becker, 2008

My life is fairly straight-forward and routine-oriented. I really like it that way. If there’s going to be any excitement, I’d like to plan it, trouble-shoot it, and control all aspects of it, thank you very much.

Patchouli, the cute little fur-ball you see above, feels otherwise. She has, in fact, been the cause of many incidents of “excitement” around here, much to my dismay. She revels in causing emergency situations calling for cool heads. I don’t deal well with emergencies, if you must know.

When Patchouli pulled a heavy table-top down on her head a couple of years ago (did you know it’s possible for cat shit to come out both ends of a cat at the same time?), my way of dealing with it was to scream and cry a lot. She survived, obviously, but the credit goes to the thankfully cooler heads that were actively prevailing at the time. You’d never know the cat got bonked, except that she’s a little retarded, now.

Okay, maybe more than a little retarded.

She likes to squish herself through the 2-inch width of open window by my desk, to sit on the 2-inch width of ledge – the only thing keeping her retarded little head from meeting the pavement of John Street before being squashed flat by a truck. She sits on the other side of the glass, smiling at me, waiting for the panic attack.

She also likes to sit beside one of the many candles that burn here every evening, twitching her tail through the flame. Smiling. I keep waiting for the Whooomph! that will signal the beginning of her painful demise…

Yesterday being Wednesday, the kuckiest day of the week, historically speaking, I spent the evening indulging in my weekly habit of tub-soaking in a dim bathroom, radio playing, candles burning, bath oil oiling… and my face painted with one of those “stress-relieving” facial masques that are supposed to suck out all the day’s tensions while erasing 40 years’ worth of wrinkles at the same time.

I’ve never actually seen my face with this goop on – I don’t have the guts to look, truthfully – but it looks yellow coming out of the jar, at least by candlelight, so I can just imagine the vision I must be while wearing it.

For the full effect, you must imagine me, as well, with my hair yanked back and tucked into a shower-cap. Oh yeah…. and naked. That got you laughing, right?

Anyway….

Patchouli likes to keep me company in the bathroom on Wednesday evenings. It’s the candles, of course – the flames fascinate her, and she loves to sit on the vanity and watch the reflection of the candles in the mirror, twitching her tail back and forth…

I got sick of hauling myself up and out of the tub every two minutes to put her down on the floor. Aside from getting car hair all over my wet hands, and then transferring it into the bath water, there was also a good chance I’d catch a glimpse of my face in the mirror and scare the bejeezus out of myself. The thought kind of makes the idea of meditating in a hot bath by candlelight to wash Wednesday away a little laughable. As does the idea of the cat suddenly going up in flames, which is why I finally put her out the door.

I had just settled back down, with the water up to my shoulders, and my neck resting on The Turkey’s squishy bath pillow…. Siiiiiiiiiiigggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh……. when I heard a quack.

I did. I heard a quack and it wasn’t a duck.

It was Sheikh, the other cat that owns me. Sheikh quacks. He does. You can hear him here, if you don’t believe me…

I hadn’t noticed him sitting in the sink, but there he was. He’s “poof-ier” than Patchouli. I think that makes him more flammable. I got thinking that a better word might even be “combustible”, that’s how “poofy” he is…

Well, the vision ran away with me, and all I could imagine was that Whooomph! sound, followed by shrieking coming from either me or the cat, or both, and Sheikh flying down the hall, in flames, followed by myself, dripping wet and naked except for my shower cap and my face painted yellow, screaming, “The cat’s on fire! The cat’s on fire!”

And I got laughing. Hysterically. Out loud.

I KNOW!!!

I could just imagine The Guy Across the Hall on the other side of the bathroom wall, wondering what all the laughing and quacking in my bathroom was about…

I haven’t decided how well yellow facial-masques or bath oil or candles work for relieving stress and tension. I do know that laughter works wonders.

* * *

P.S. A very special Thank You to David McMahon for awarding me the ever-elusive Post-of-the-Day Award for “Mein Kluben! Mein Kluben!” My dad was tickled pink when he heard the news (my mom wanted to know if there was any money in it…)

Random Song-for-the-Day: “The Animal I’ve Become” – 3 Days Grace

[signoff]