It’s Good to Be the Heather
Current mood: froggy
Category: Friends

I would like to take this opportunity to spin a tale for those of you who missed out on the festivities in my honor.

Before I get started, I want to give e-hugs to all of you who were a part of the fun.

Thursday was my birthday. On one hand, I woke up with the feeling that something bad was going to happen. It was an overwhelming sense of dread. On the other hand, Zack was home a day early. The sun was cheesing away. No rain. What a great day!

We went to a local sports bar where a quick dinner preceded the libations. We were joined by Cindy, Mike, Trish, Chrissy, Linda, Christie, Christie's mom, and dearest Mark. We had a pretty good time there. Most of the guests had to work Friday morning, so it was a somewhat early evening.

Friday morning brought more sunshine, and what I believe to be summer. I still had a sense of unease that I just couldn't shake. Hubby and I headed to the cinema to take in an early showing of the latest Indiana Jones flick. Drinks and snacks in hand, we found seats and readied ourselves for the great adventures of the (still sexy) Professor.

We enjoyed the movie, but we both felt the tiniest bit disappointed.

After the movie it was back home to get cleaned up and ready for the Eric Clapton concert. Let me say that again for you Matt…ERIC CLAPTON. (OK, I'll tuck my horns away again)

On the way to the venue, Frank Sonata decides that he would like to make an attempt to overheat. We pull off the C-R-O-W-D-E-D interstate, and check the fluid level. Zack topped it off, and we turned the heater on to help pull the heat away. We manage to make it there on time – early in fact.

Meanwhile, back on the ranch, the clouds are coming out in full force. As the darkness starts to seep into the light, we begin to see spectacular lightening. Fingers crossed I begin my negotiations with my personal weather nymphs. For each bargaining attempt, I was answered with a closer flash of lightening. Dammit, man! It can't storm like this for Clapton! I begged. I pleaded. The little bastards held the rain off until 10 or so, but they had no qualms about upping the volts for the increasingly threatening light show. The rain was relentless. You know they cut the show short. It was obvious that EC was feeling rushed, and that may have been a look of disappointment on his face when he started seeing how the weather was turning.

There's a mass exodus from the venue. People are freaking out. It's just rain you idiots! We're all already soaked to the marrow, pushing me isn't going to get you to your car any faster. In fact, it may just get you closer to your death! We wisely chose to sit in the car for while before we would inch our way into the chaotic lines of traffic in the lot. Listening to the radio, we heard two stations get knocked off air by the storm. Then it got quiet. Too quiet. That quiet that happens before the crazy axe-murderer lowers the blade into your noggin. Next we had the eerie rumbling sound and the shaking of the car.

That's some scary stuff, kiddos. We laughed it off by making a comment about having cows. We finally start making our way home. The rain hasn't let up. The light show in the sky hasn't let up. We're damn near baking in the car, still relying on the heater to draw the heat from Frank's ticker. The entire journey home shows us what my weather nymphs thought of my negotiation skills:

Trees down

Standing water on the interstate

A jack-knifed semi

A mid-sized car that decided to head-butt the dividing wall

More trees down

Traffic lights out

We saw railroad crossing arms in the down position, lights flashing and no train visible to the human eye in sight

More flooding

So many streets were impassable with the standing water, the trees crossing the road and downed power lines. As we got closer to home, we started to understand what the rumbling and shaking were all about. We'd missed a tornado. Aside from normal storm damage, our section of the neighborhood was left alone. That meant that my neighbor's outside dogs were OK. My doggies, my poor, unattended doggies, were OK. My grandparents who live next door were ok. The old fellow across the street, who lives alone, and is a stroke survivor, was OK. We have no power, but we have homes. We have our pets. We have our belongings. We have a pretty good idea about where we will sleep tonight.

Karen's old house (that she still owns, but fatefully, moved from a few months ago) was picked up and placed back down askew.

The latest reports I have read indicate that at least 500 buildings were damaged. No fatalities.

My nymphs didn't let me down after all. They managed to keep us safe from a tornado again.

1. I think the first year that we were back in Indy, a tornado leveled many of the houses in the development where we were buying a house. Ours wasn't built yet.
2. 2002 brought a devastating series of tornadoes on fall day.  Zack & I had lunch together that day. Our jobs were just a couple of miles apart at that time. One of the tornadoes formed close to where we worked. This tornado essentially took my route home. It touched down a little east of my office complex, and was on the ground until just a smidgen west of our section of the neighborhood. It lifted back up for a couple hundred yards, then dropped back to the ground briefly, but lifting up before reaching my grandparents. It dropped again, but swerved to avoid the wrath of John Brown, destroying damn near everything around the pub.

I digress. Clapton= awesome. Robert Randolph=awesome. Tornado during your birthday celebration= pure shite.

Saturday Zack & I try to tour the area to see the damage. We weren't allowed to go down certain streets. From what we are able to see, things are bad. It looked bad at night in the pouring rain, but, my god, in the daylight, it looked like a war zone. We grab a quick lunch and then we head downtown to deposit me with Trish. We have a quick chat, and then Trish and I get antsy. We're Nashville bound, man! We're just missing one thing. Marcy! She's truly not that late. One minute late though, was about more than Trish & I could take. We're chomping at the bit so to speak. Ah! She's here. Trish tells her we'll just meet her downstairs. Yes, we were that antsy.

We situate the snacks, choose the first segment of the soundtrack, and we are pointed toward Louisville to fetch our darlin' Paula.

We've made it halfway ladles and jelly worms! We've got Paula! After expressing our adoration of her abode, and Trish being attacked by the kitty, we're headed south once more.

I may be wrong, but I am sure that those were the longest two hours of my life. We were getting excited. We were ready to rock and get those glasses a clinkin'.  90 miles left. 58 miles left. Nashville 30 miles! We can't stand it. Those 30 miles took their sweet time to expire. Our hotel! Yay! We've arrived, girls! God help this poor city.

First stop…Mulligan's on 2^nd Avenue. Don't be ridiculous- we were there for dinner. OK and cocktails. Dinner first. OK, so we had a drink before dinner, but dammit, we did eat, I promise! First on the drink agenda a lovely pint of Guinness followed by some Jameson (both for Bad Penny)

We went in the Charlie Daniels Museum.

I finally put my toes on the floor at Tootsie's. It was as packed as a thong on an elephant. I seem to recall Marcy saying that the round of shots costing $25. OUCH! (Lemon Drops for Amy)

We went upstairs to check out the other band. After they wrapped up their set, we were off to our next stop.

Enter Layla's.  We were each swept around the dance floor by a stranger before being allowed to pass through. Layla's where the singer was at times, hanging upside down from the rafters. Once the band wrapped up, we headed to Robert's.

Robert's was hosting a band called Brazilbilly. We loved them. Trish & I each bought a CD. We spent more time there than we had at the other places. But, alas, we do have other places to hit.

Next stop: Coyote Ugly.

We've lost Marcy to the call of the dance. She tells us to mosey on to CU, and she'll find us later. Mosey we do. No sooner than we get our drinks and establish our spot, we are approached. "Um, excuse me, but would any of you ladies like to make out?" Yeah. He went there. Bless his little heart for trying.  More bevies consumed. Paula made the smartest decision of the trip: to head back early. Trish & I? Nah- we're not quitters. Or smart. We keep wagging our tails. Two dances on the bar and one song sung into the mic with one of the bartenders later, we decide that we are indeed quitters. We call Marcy (who we assume is still getting her boogie on at Robert's) to tell her it is time to go back to the hotel.

We call the car company that so kindly delivered us downtown to fetch us. We walk out. Hey! Who turned on the rain? It's pissing down! Dammit again!

Trish hails a cab instead of waiting on our car. We direct the driver to head toward Robert's. We see Marcy, pull her into the cab and take a giggly ride back to the hotel.

I don't remember getting into my jammies, but I woke up in them.

We'll skip ahead to the ride home.

We ate breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Service provided by: Bitch Who Will Not Be Getting a Tip. I know Paula left money on the table, but I left her nothing. She was rude. She was just horrid. Boo to her!

We made it safely to Louisville (despite Trish's maniacal swerve to avoid a turtle). We bid farewell to the delightful Paula and entered the coordinates for the Indianapolis Galaxy.

There may have been a rough patch or two for the birthday festivities, but overall…this was a wonderful weekend.

As soon as the power is restored in my area, there will be pictures. I know that Paula has evidence on her camera as well.

Thanks for reading, kiddies!

OFF AIR

05:23 - 5 Comments - 7 Kudos - Add Comment

Ah, the smallest things can brighten your day...

The following is a bonafide post from the Indy Craigslist.

You can’t make this stuff up, folks!

FREE older TV....works but needs a cord to plug it in

Reply to: sale-618XXXXX@craigslist.org
Date: 2008-03-25, 1:23PM EDT


FREE:
One Zenith older television with wood trim
Approximately 19 inch screen (a little dusty from sitting in garage)
Worked up until the cord got accidentally pulled from the back of TV
If you know how to replace the cord, you’ve got a decent older tv that works
Must pick up....I’M PUTTING IT ON FRONT COVERED PORCH,SO YOU CAN PICK UP AT YOUR CONVENIENCE
Please email through Craigslist for pick-up address Thanks!

10:20 - 6 Comments - 5 Kudos - Add Comment

Humor Me

I had time to kill, so I responded to a friend's bulletin post. It was one where you are asked to provide answers to questions. I thought I would play along, but being Heather, would change the rules.  What I want to do, is present the questions to you, gentle readers. I want you to provide your answers VIA MESSAGE to me. I'll gather all of the submissions, and post the questions with anonymous answers.  I will do this in quiz form. Your job will be to decide who said what. The person with the best score will get a special treat.

06:12 - 8 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

A Near TKO
Category: Life

Picture it - Indianapolis, 2008. It is a Friday night. We are planning to go out to dinner, and then go to a friend's place to play some cards and drink. O.K., mostly drink, but you get the idea. I finally make it in from a long week at work. I take a hot shower. I take a breather between bathing and dressing. I sit down to check my email accounts.

My stomach drops out. My heart seems lodged in my throat. I feel numb. There is an unfamiliar email address staring me in the face, taunting me. I need not ask who it is. The name says it all too clearly.  I come back down to Earth enough to fire off an abbreviated response to the one question posed to me.

Once I regain control of myself, I promptly go pour a stiff drink. I am no longer in control of my body. I fumble with my clothes. I struggle to dry my hair. I struggle to struggle. My heart is pounding against my chest like a prizefighter.

What you don't know is that this individual used to have one hell of a hold on me. I cannot tell you why. I can't tell you, because I was never able to figure that out myself. This person could simultaneously make me feel powerful and powerless. We played a dangerous game of "Stalk, or Be Stalked". To the death, we said. On numerous occasions, he stalked me, just a step behind me, telling me that I would not live to see the next corner. I remember him chasing me around in the darkness of the forest one night. This was a very twisted and passionate love (fling?, affair?). We had the intensity of a staring contest between John Wayne and Chuck Norris. It is possible that the intensity was more like Fat Bastard staring through a nursery window at a bunch of fresh babies. Yes, it was that intense. Always.

We could never get our timing right, though. Time passed, and we just moved on. We would maintain contact for a few months at a time, but that too, died out.

Some of you know more detail that what I am providing, but I am trying to convey to the rest of you the shock I suffered at the receipt of the email.

I pondered it over dinner. Why now? After seven years, now he makes contact? What drove him to that? I am not sure how Zack took the news, but he seemed amused by my reaction. This short email occupied my mind through dinner. We stopped by the house between dinner and fun to take care of the dogs. You know the first thing I did was run to check my email again. ANOTHER EMAIL! He gave me his number and I sent him mine. WHY?!!! I obsessed over this whole thing on the drive to the party. It occupied my mind with every drink I poured. It weighed heavy on my noggin all day Saturday. It sat there poking me in the brain on Sunday.  All the while, I keep thinking that this is what he does to me. This is his best attack. He gets in my head, drives me a little closer to crazy, and lets me stew in it.

The pisser is that I found myself continually checking my phone to see if he had called or sent a text my way.

As I sat snuggled up with the dogs, I hear the telltale sound of the text hitting my inbox. I look. It is he. He is letting me know that he is going to call me.

You guys have to know, I was full of nerves waiting for this call. It had been seven years, you know. What would we say? How awkward would it be?

You know, it was a little awkward for me at first. After a little while though, I had warmed back up to him. We talked about everything under the sun. We caught each other up on the details of our lives. We talked about hopes and dreams. We talked about everything. The only time that our past came up was in reference to people that we had both known.

I was flattered to hold a place in his head after so much time had passed. He still thought about me, and seemingly, fondly. That felt nice. I say that because (A) we never made it as a couple, and (B) we were not that great at being friends. Don't get me wrong, we could probably have a good time together shucking corn—not only is he a fun dude, he has always remained my favorite Martian. As far as trying to be friends all of the time…not so good for us.

Initially, part of me was dreading the call. In the end (nearly three hours later), I hated for the call to end.  We have promised to utilize Myspace to stay in contact. I really hope that we do. I can't tell you how great I felt when I put my phone down. I realized that I had missed talking to him. That is afterall, how we got started on that chilly night in Millington. I think that there are just some people that you should never put out of your life, and for me, he is one of those people. He is part of why I am who I am -- in a good way. He found a way to unlock my long-hidden imagination.  He got me started on the path to patience. Laugh all you want! If you think I am impatient now, you should have seen me 13 some years ago. Trish can probably vouch for that. He taught me strength. He thickened my skin. There were some bad times, sure, but, that is just another Lego in my wall. I don't know if he will read this, and if he does, I don't know if his head will become inflated , but if it does, I will simply pull a Lego from the wall to throw at him.

17:24 - 7 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

A good time was had by all
Current mood: sleepy

First things first... I landed a job with Lilly. I start Monday. Phew! Big sigh of relief, and you all can buy me a drink :)

Second on the list is that I am in love with a bar. After spending several years trying to convince myself to check out Indy's oldest Irish pub, I took the plunge last night. I can't believe the people who run this joint. They are friendly! Yes, friendly! Remember the tales of yore...you know...when you went to your local public house and were treated kindly? The hospitality that was extended to you? I don't think that the publicans in this establishment ever kicked that trend.

McGinley's Golden Ace is the place I speak of. Check out the story behind the joint.  I felt that they were treating me like royalty. Locals...I beg you, check this place out. DO NOT let the location scare you.  Golden Ace Myspace link

The venture started out with the Golden Ace posting an ad for Michigan's own Bruno's Boys providing the craic for Friday. I thought they sounded pretty darned good, especially only being a duo. Lots of sound, lots of energy, and girls, let me tell you, not bad to look at! The pub suggested making reservations just to be on the safe side. That, boys & girls, is exactly what I did. As the week progressed, other people found out what we were doing and wanted to partake of the festivities, so yesterday evening, I called the pub & told them what the situation was. He was a very friendly bloke on the phone. When we arrived, I was greeted like an old friend. After we were seated, Jimmy (the bloke from the phone call) came over to our table to officially intorduce himself.

When the band took their break Paul (Bruno's Boys) came over to chat briefly. Again, I was impressed. Look, gang, all I can say at this point is that the evening couldn't have been more wonderiffic. (Well, persmaps if she had been along).

We finally wore the band out. As they were breaking their gear down, they were kind enough to entertain us with conversation, and there may have been some taunting over the last slice of pizza. The Jameson cloud in my head is still a little thick.

Just check out the pics in the Golden Ace folder and those in the Bruno's Boys folder. You'll see just how great the evening was.

12:41 - 9 Comments - 11 Kudos - Add Comment

SPAM IS MEAT!-- For Paula
Category: Food and Restaurants

Spam hit the streets in 1937 and became so famous that almost any canned meat was thought to be 'spam'. The name Spam, dreamed up by the actor brother of a Hormel vice president, is short for "spiced ham." Cute story: Said brother supposedly had this brainstorm at a name-the-product party, in which you had to contribute a possible name in order to get a drink. It took a few rounds, so nobody is sure whether the guy was inspired or just drunk.

Using Spam to describe unwanted electronic communication is a reference to the popular 1970 Monty Python's Flying Circus comedy sketch in which Vikings in a diner repeatedly drown out conversation with the chant "Spam! Spam! Spam!"

From www.thestraightdope.com

Our ancestors ate meat they'd just killed with a rock. What's so bad about a little Spam?

What does make you a bit queasy is the nutritional labeling on the side of the can. A single serving--two thin slices--contains 30 percent of your daily saturated-fat quota, 31 percent of your sodium, and 13 percent of your cholesterol. If people ate Spam exclusively we'd solve the Social Security crisis in a generation. Nobody would live long enough to collect.

On to your questions. The common assumption is that Spam is made of stuff even pigs don't like to admit they've got. Not so, says the nice lady at Hormel Foods, which manufactures Spam. It contains a mixture of ham and chopped pork shoulder. (Ham is the pig's thigh; pork is everything else.) Ham is Hormel's top-of-the-line product, and Spam was created in 1937 partly to use up what was left of the pig after the ham had been removed. But only the wholesome parts.

THE SECRET OF SPAM

Dear Cecil:

Regarding Spam, is it true, as travel writer Paul Theroux claims, that the people of the South Pacific love their Spam because it tastes so much like . . . people? --Mary E. Sage, via the Internet

Cecil replies:

Marketing Spam must present some unique challenges. Imagine the conversation in the boardroom:

Spam product manager 1: I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is that Spam is hugely popular among the people of the South Pacific. The bad news is that, according to the famous travel writer Paul Theroux, the islanders dig it because they're ex-cannibals and they think Spam tastes like human flesh.

Spam product manager 2: Hmm. Is this a problem . . . or an opportunity?

Lest our great-grandchildren find this wacky story circulating on the Intergalactinet in the year 2098, let it be known that:

1. There is no correlation between alleged prior cannibalism and love of Spam. As Sacks notes, the Spam-craving Pingelapese had no tradition of cannibalism. More important, Hawaii, epicenter of Pacific Rim Spamophilism, has been more or less cannibal-free since the arrival of Christianity in the early 19th century.
2. The popularity of Spam among Pacific islanders can be readily explained by the scarcity and expense of other types of meat and the lack or unreliability of refrigeration. Fresh meat is stored primarily in a self-propelled biounit known as a pig, which is only slaughtered for major occasions. If you're looking for a spicy bit to have with your breadfruit you can't beat the convenience of Spam.

Still, let's concede one point to Paul Theroux. Does Spam taste corpsy? Of course it tastes corpsy--it's meat. We're just arguing about the identity of the deceased.

From www.pugbus.net

WEST CHESTER, Penna. – Just in time for the Christmas season, Hormel Foods, makers of Spam, have added condoms to the ever-growing catalog of novelty gift items bearing the popular foodstuff's name.

The ultra sensitive Spam Meat Locker, -- rolled out in stores across the United States on Friday, is available in snack, regular, and hambone sizes. Meat Lockers-- are made entirely of pig lips, skin, entrails, and connective tissue—items that used to be found in every can of Spam.

Calling the Meat Locker-- "the perfect gift for the man who has everything or the woman who wants it," Hormel's chief information officer, Talbert D. Michaels, predicted company stock would rise on the news that Spam would be making money off pig byproducts once again.

Mr. Michaels also said that he expected Meat Lockers-- to "make a splash" in the $500-million annual revenue stream generated by the sales of Spam kitsch online, where shoppers can buy everything Spam, from coin purses to sandals, oven mitts to shoelaces, fly swatters to hockey pucks, and a thousand items more.

"For Spam lovers the meat is the message," said Mr. Michaels, "and what safer way to drive that message home than in a Spam Meat Locker-- condom? Whether you're puttin' your stash in her gash or your ham in her can, this is the love glove for you."

The multimedia advertising campaign for Spam Meat Lockers,-- which debuts during the New England Patriots-Philadelphia Eagles football game tonight, will feature celebrities such as Snoop Dogg, Kid Rock, Tommy Lee, Tara Reid, and Vanessa Hudgens.
Mr. Michaels went to some length to reassure Spam fanatics that even though Meat Lockers-- are available only in the Minimalist style, pictured this page, Spam expects to roll out additional styles in the near future, including a yellow-and-blue Spam checkerboard model called the Jokester. --
If Meat Lockers-- turn out to be a good fit for Spam faithful, expect to see affinity styles available for sports enthusiasts. In fact, Spam is presently in discussions with the National Football League, which wants to market team-pride condoms with logos of NFL teams imprinted on the condoms' heads.

In a beta version of the initial ad for this campaign, Dallas Cowboys wide receiver Terrell Owens stands naked facing the camera holding his helmet over his goal post while Nicollette Sheridan, who is also naked, grovels at his feet, fondling herself. Meanwhile a voiceover says, "The NFL wants to put its helmets on yours."

Spam, lyrically

Spam (Weird Al) [to the tune of REM's Stand]

Spam in the place where I live (ham and pork)
Think about nutrition, wonder what's inside it now (oh boy)
Spam in my lunchbox at work (its the best)
Really makes a darn good sandwich any way you slice it at all

If you're running low, go to the store
Carry some money to help you buy more
The tab is there to open the can
The can is there to hold in the spam

Oh, spam on the table at home (ham and pork)
Think about selection, are there different flavors now (lets eat)
Spam in my office at work (its the best)
Think about the stuff its made from, wonder if its mystery of meat

If you need a spoon, keep one around
Carry a thermos to help wash it down
Now, if there's some left, don't just throw it out
Use it for spackle or bathroom grout, now

Spam in my pantry at home (have some more)
Think of expiration, better read the label (oh boy)
Spam breakfast, dinner, or lunch (its the best)
Think about how its been precooked, wonder if Ill just eat it cold

Now, once you start in, you cant put it down
Don't leave it sitting or it'll turn brown
The key is going to open the tin
The tin is there to keep the spam in

Oh, spam (spam)
Ham and pork
Think about nutrition, wonder what's inside it now (oh boy)
Spam (spam)
Its the best
Really makes a darn good sandwich any way you slice it

Spam in the place where I live (have some more)
Think about addiction, wonder if I'm a junkie now (lets eat)
Spam in the place where I work (you're obsessed)
Think about the way its processed, wonder if its some kind of meat

Spam in the back of my car (ham and pork)
Spam any place that you are (ham and pork)
The tab is there to open the can (spam any place that you are) (ham and pork)
The can is there to hold in the spam (spam any place that you are) (ham and pork)

Spam (Save Ferris) 

[chorus]

Spam
Its pink and its oval
Spam
I buy it at the Mobil
Spam
Its made in Chernobyl
Spam

Now when I was a child
My family was so poor
They didn't have the finer things in life to eat
So we had a plan
In a big blue can
The government substitute for meat

(repeat chorus)

To get me to eat it at dinner
They said Id grow up like Bruce Jenner
He was a winner that never knew defeat
And when he got hungry
When he got hungry
He cracked open that special treat
It was

(repeat chorus)

S-p-a-m
Don't you know its my best friend
S-p-a-m
Again and again and again

S-p-a-m
Don't you know its my best friend
S-p-a-m
Again and again and again and again

So go and forget your o-s-c-a-r
There's one meat by-product that's best by far
Its

(repeat chorus)

Spam (Monty Python)

Lovely Spaaam! Wonderful Spaaam!
Lovely Spaaam! Wonderful Spam.
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am.
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am.
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am.
Spa-a-a-a-a-a-a-am.
Lovely Spaaam! (Lovely Spam!)
Lovely Spaaam! (Lovely Spam!)
Lovely Spaaam!
Spaaam, Spaaam, Spaaam, Spaaaaaam!

18:20 - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Thanksgiving
Category: Life

Hola gang!

Just a quick note to say that I am thankful for knowing all of you (either in real life, or just in the ether).

I read something in the paper today that said that today is a day to be thankful for the people who surround us today, and to be thankful for the time we were granted with those who are not with us today.

I'll buy that. I am thankful that although life is just this side of rough for the Zackster & I that we still have you guys. I am thankful that Daisey decided to lick me BEFORE she decided to lick herself. I am thankful that I will be spending today with some of my favorite people. I am thankful that The Trish will let me share her time on Saturday before she gets thrown to the wolves at work on Sunday. I am thankful that Austin has filled Trish with helium, and that she shows no signs of returning to Earth anytime soon. I am thankful that there is always the promise of FINALLY meeting up with those crazy kats in Kentucky. I am thankful that Zack thinks I am adorable early in the morning when he turns the bedroom light on, and I wrinkle my face up and growl at him.
Mostly, I think that I am thankful for having things to be thankful for.

10:41 - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

My friend Emily

If you see her.....beat her ass. She isn't much of a friend, is she?

Now, not only have "I" commented you guys again, but "I" have commented to myself about this chick.

I do not now, nor have I ever, had an Emily-type friend.

Again, sorry for the Spam, Spam, bacon, eggs, and Spam.

12:05 - 6 Comments - 5 Kudos - Add Comment

Scattergories

A   Alone. Zack is away for the next few days. He is slated to be gone for at least eight days. I don't think that we have been apart for more than 2-3 days in the nearly 10 years that we have been together. I was looking forward to the solitude. So I thought. I have found that I am lost. I reached for him in the sleepy way that I do, and instead of his warm arm, I got a hand full of dog.

B Beautiful leaves on the maple trees across the street. When the sun is in the right position, it looks as though each leaf has an inner fire.

C Chatty fucking Cathys surrounding us at the concert. Two behind us that couldn't find their lip zippers, and Idiots 1-4 sitting in front of us. I didn't pay money to hear your ridiculous ramblings. I thought we were there to catch a Keith Urban show.

D Dogs. They are equally lost in Zack's absence. The darlings did allow me to sleep until almost 9 this morning-- which is some small miracle, since they tend to drag Zack out of bed by 7.

E Everything is so still in the house tonight. The bird is quiet. The dogs are still behaving. There is a rare sense of tranquility.

F Fall is finally in Indy! It smells like fall. It looks like fall. It feels like fall.

G Guinness. Which is what I had when I met up with an old friend (and his lady) Wednesday night at MacNiven's. Nothing says reunion like haggis & a pint of the plain!

H Hemorrhoids. As in, Idiot 3 sitting in front of me must have had one helluva case of them. This cow couldn't sit still. She continually adjusted something back there.

K Keith Urban. I went to his concert tonight with me mum--as a favor to my stepdad. I AM NOT a big fan of that country music stuff. HOWEVER, I am now a fan of Mr. Urban. He is so much more than a sweet ass and a pretty face. He played his guitars. He played bass. He played piano. He sang his little heart out. He was great with the crowd. His band is great. Great great great great great. I will actually be picking up some of his music. So, would his fans be considered Urbanites?

L Lemmings. Mom & I are leaving the Fieldhouse after the concert. We are waiting at a crosswalk with a rather large group of people. We do not have the light to cross. In fact, the light is quite green for the traffic that is capable of mowing us down. Suddenly, the majority of the people just start crossing. Against the still very green light. Cars have to screech to a halt. This doesn't keep the next batch of people from crossing. There is a cop car. The cop just give a quick honk of her horn, but does nothing to these jackholes. The light is still green for the cars, and yet a third batch of freakazoids decide that they too shall cross. What gives in downtown Indy tonight, peeps? Why the high volume of idiocy?

P Peanut-tossing twits. As in Idiots 1 & 2 sitting in front of me (also companions of Idiot 3. These two girls were throwing peanuts at random people. They managed to get a threat from dude a few rows in front of them. Did it deter them from additional tossings? No. I wanted to squeeze their idiot necks until their idiot eyes popped out. Where was security during all of this?

Q Quench this thirst. I had an icy drink sitting in the cupholder at the concert. Idiot 3 (from above) decides that in order to stand up, she must do an Exorcist-style twist, stick her Preparation-H flavord fingers into my cup. Yes, she did. She turns to me a few moments later and mouths sorry. Sorry?! Sorry doesn't quench my thirst you daft cow!

R Remote control. While Zack is gone, I don't have to find something we can both enjoy. I have respite from the endless shows on SciFi that he watches.

S Sleeping. Sleeping diagonal while Zack is away. Daisy slept on his pillow, and Huck slept at the foot of the bed. Still, I miss Zack's warm legs. I have to suffer through my cold feet until he comes home.

T Treat at the concert. The Franklin Central Drum Corps got to do a number with Keith & his band. How awesome must that have been for those kids? How awesome of Mr. Urban to have extended that invitation. (For you non-local types, Franklin Central is a high school located in Franklin, IN, just south of Indy)

W Weird. I just realized that the outfit I wore to the concert tonight is pretty much what my avatar is wearing.

Z Zack. I am unearthing new feelings for him. Just when I thought that maybe things were getting stale. I thought that what Trish & Austin have was the most romantic situation. Hard for things to become routine when you are 1000 miles apart. Nice to have your own time. There are times that I get the STRONG urge to kick sweet Zack's head in, but I am learning that I am not whole without him. I need to be able to hold him, or be held by him. I will reserve the right to exile him to the other end of the couch, but I need him close. I should stop here--one more word and I am bound to go all sugar-brained like the aforementioned duo. Blehhhh! We don't need no stinkin' sugar-brains!

Well kids, the hour is late. I am light of heart, but heavy of lid. I am going to the Holiday Gift & Hobby Show tomorrow with Mom. I need super sleep in order to keep up with her while she shops.

Love to you all.

04:10 - 12 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Zombies Attack

Cats & Kittens,

For those of you who attended the ghoulish gala, no review is needed. For those of you who missed out on this gory gathering, just look at the pictures I have posted in my pics (the Zombie folder). They say it all.

I think most of us made it out alive, if not a little worse for wear.

Most importantly (this nugget is for you B3) - there was very little in the snookums- department. The lovebats were well behaved, maybe a little frisky, but well behaved.

15:56 - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment