I have not willingly/knowingly slept with my closet door open since 1982.
In 1982, My Dad, acting on a horribly misguided suggestion from a so-called friend, brought his young family to see a "fun" movie called "Poltergeist".
My life has never been the same.
Most notably, I have NEVER slept with my closet door open.
EVER.
But I did last night.
...even though these were my last words to My Guy before I turned off my light:
"Oh shit...I forgot my closet door open. Can you close it please? Thanks"
And then I fell asleep.... blissfully unaware that he had in fact NOT CLOSED MY CLOSET DOOR EVEN THOUGH I ASKED HIM SWEETLY!!!
We will be discussing this when we speak at lunchtime.
It is the second near-death experience I have endured in the past week. (well, technically, it's the third, if you count The Apocalypse That Never Was)
Hopefully, I will make it to see the dawning of 2013.
p.s. In an effort to maintain my blog's Full Disclosure Policy...my closet is never that tidy. It just so happens that yesterday was the day that I switched my closet over from summer to winter and everything is still all neat and organized-like.
Yes, yesterday was December 26th....and I live in Canada.
Well...today is Christmas Eve Day and I would love to give you, My Beloved Readers, a priceless Christmas gift.
I am giving you the gift of World Peace.
Yep.
I am.
You may recall, about a month ago, I decided to uncover who really is the Reason for the Season using science....or math...one or the other. Originally, I thought my experiment was born of the realm of science but, upon reflection, I think it's actually probably more of an experiment of the mathematical kind.I'm not entirely sure exactly how I did it but regardless of however I did do it, the important thing is that I DID it.
I, squirrel_e_girl, have THE definitive answer to the burning question that has plagued us all for centuries ...
Who really IS The Reason for the Season?
Well, be plagued no longer, for I have resolved the age-old, world-wide raging battle between Jesus Christ and Santa Claus.
And...
GUESS WHO WON!!!
The Man in Red, himself....
SANTA CLAUS!!!
I actually did NOT see that one coming.
It was absolutely no surprise that, for most of competition/experiment, Hot Babes Dressed as Santa led the pack ...by a lot...and when I say 'by a lot', I mean 'by A LOT'... but over the past week or so, as Christmas fast approached, Santa Dressed as Santa caught fire and came out on top.
Here's how it all breaks down:
Santa Claus VICTORIOUS
with 222 Pageviews
The Lovely Ladies scored 209 Views.
Santa/JC combo garnered 196 Pageviews.
Baby Jesus got his wee arse kicked and finished with 134. Sorry lil dude.
So, there you have it.
Santa Wins.
Debate Settled = WORLD PEACE!!
A Christmas gift from me to YOU!!
You're Welcome.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
and...
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!
Here's one of my favourites :)
And this one too:
It's David Fucking Bowie ...And it's Bing Fucking Crosby, pal.
p.s. Notice all the excellent spacing and symmetrical picture placement and perfect caption positioning in this post??? yeah ...me neither.
So, as has been established on numerous occasions, I am a weinie ....and, a while ago, I wrote a post about all the things that make me cry. If you’d like, you can read it here.
It is rivetingly fascinating stuff.
Trust me.
:D
I've been meaning to update my list with the addition something that waaaay should've been on the original list and I can’t believe I missed it the first time around.
I've also got a rather significant new entry and I figure now’s as good a time as any, so here I go with...
“A Comprehensive List Of More Things That Make Me Cry”
by: squirrel_e_girl
The Glaring Omission- A song titled “Pride” by Elmo and The Goo Goo Dolls
..yep...
You heard me...
Elmo...and ...The Goo Goo Dolls.
A long, long time ago, a friend made a wonderful cd for me and my wee kiddos. She gave it to us during a weekend visit with her and her family. Our new CD was chosen to be the soundtrack for the drive home.
All was going well until this particular song came on ...It grabbed hold of my heart and squeezed it until tears were streaming down my splotchy and emotion-contorted face...I think I might've sobbed once or twice...maybe.
At first, I blamed my blubbery response on the magnificent hangover I was in the process of enduring but here I am, 14 years later and STILL, it squeezes tears outta my sappy heart.
I think what gets me is knowing how blissfully and beautifully proud wee ones are of all their latest and greatest accomplishments and the hard-fought mastery of skills that previously only big kids and Mummy and Daddy possessed.
Life is so exciting and new and full of joy...
YAY ME!!!!! I can do it!!!
...*sigh*...
Give it a little listen and...Please pass me a Kleenex..
Isn't it great?? ok...so here's the next one:
The Latest Addition - The senseless slaughter of 20 babies.
20 babies who were learning to dress themselves.
20 babies who were learning to tie their shoes...
...make their own bed
...add 2+2
...fall down and not cry
...drink up all their milk and eat up all their peas
Those beautiful babies.
I didn't cry when I first heard of the shooting.
I didn’t cry as I watched the scene unfold through footage filmed from a helicopter as it hovered over Sandy Hook Elementary School.
I didn’t cry as I watched children being whisked through a parking lot by horrified and grateful parents to the safety of their homes.
I couldn't cry.
I could not fully comprehend what I was witnessing.
I was numb.
I couldn't cry.
I couldn't speak.
I turned the computer off and got into my car to drive back to work.
And as I drove, my mind started reeling...
20 Elementary School Students murdered.
20 Grade One students murdered. 20 six and seven year old little girls and boys. 20 babies. Babies. Babies shot by a boy wielding a semi-automatic assault rifle. ...and then I cried. I cannot think of them...or their parents...or their families ....or their friends ...or their brave brave teachers ...without crying.
The other day, My Big Girl...who, not very long ago, was only 6 and then only 7...and I were looking at the pictures of those beautiful babies...in a sort of stunned silence. The silence was broken by my daughter as she said, “Look at their little teeth.”
From a flat cold computer screen, 20 little faces looked up at us with smiles full of their little shiny white baby teeth.
Baby teeth that they'll never be over-the-moon excited to lose.
As I'm sure most of you are well aware, anytime you type anything into the little Google Image search window and hit Enter, you're playing a sort of Picture Russian Roulette. Some pretty "interesting" stuff can pop up and it's important to be prepared.
Over the past few years I've compiled something I like to call:
"A Comprehensive List of Things I Will No Longer Search On Google Images...No Matter What" by: squirrel_e_girl
Bunions
Toenail Fungus
Receding Gums
Warts
Engorged Ticks
I'm not going into to any detail about any of those items. They're pretty straight forward and self-explanatory...and really really gross.
As an act of squirrel_e_kindness, I advise anyone who doesn't have to search those things to avoid searching those things, unless it's for like work or something.
The reason I am choosing to convey this warning to you tonight is that I have a brand new entry... and it's a big 'un...and I feel as though it is my moral obligation as a human being to pass this on to you, my Beloved Readers, in a heroic effort to save you any unnecessary emotional scarring.
To explain:
Since you probably haven't heard any where close to enough about my newly returned Rowdy Cat, here is another Rowdy Cat Story ...and it's yucky and gross and you may want to skip this if you have a sensitive constitution ... or if you are My Mom....or My Dad ... or My Kids.
As I'm sure most of you are well aware, cat bums are anything but discreet and unfortunately, for all involved, Rowdy's seems to be sort of sticky-outie ...which it never used to be.
It is not pleasant.
Due to all the cat-ditcher guilt I am experiencing, I am hyper-vigilant about any possible lurking health issues with him, and, these days, what does one do when one has a possible lurking health issue??
One becomes an Instant Physician/Veterinarian and, instead of using decades of intensive schooling and medical experience to reach a sensible diagnosis, one scurries over to the nearest computer and consult the all-knowing, all-powerful ... Dr. Google.
Instant Diagnosis.
So, when my cat is proudly sporting a sticky-outie bum, of course I'm going to check out Google Image to see if what I am being forced to admire is what I think it might be.
And, without further ado, I present to you, the latest and greatest addition to
"A Comprehensive List of Things I Will No Longer Search On Google Images...No Matter What" by: squirrel_e_girl
Bunions
Toenail Fungus
Receding Gums
Warts
Engorged Ticks
Prolapsed Cat Rectum
DON'T DO IT!!!
And, especially DON'T DO IT!!! and then scroll down through the pics to see if any of them resemble your cat's bum...which they didn't...phew.
And extra especially DON'T DO IT!!!! and then scroll down...if you don't have Safe Search on.
I saw things that I never, in a million years, would've ever imagined.
There are some things that you just can't unsee.
*shudder*
God Damn.
P.S. This traumatizing discovery comes right on the heels of my surprising discovery that there are naughty naughty pictures on Pinterest .... and here I just thought it was all about crafts, recipes, adorable animals and shoes.
All that time wasted looking at jokes and beautiful inspirational sayings.
A couple of times, in my past few posts, I've mysteriously alluded to the fact that my Rowdy Cat is a bit out of sorts, with each allusion immediately followed by a promise to write an explanatory post...because I'm sure you are all dying to know what's up with my wonky cat...right??
Right.
Well...
Some of you may remember a post I wrote back in the summer, charmingly titled, "My Cat is an Asshole". <— click on that hyperlink if you want to read it...or not.
I wrote that post because he, in fact, was an asshole.
Plain and simple.
No getting around it.
Asshole.
Cat.
I'll give you brief rundown of his assholery:
“A Comprehensive List of All the Asshole Things My Cat Did"
by: squirrel_e_girl
He murdered a whole bunch of chipmunks...and made me listen to it
He murdered many many innocent birds
He made my little girl cat's life miserable...as is evident at the end of this video. He was a big ol bully.
If kept inside at night, he would wander around the house loudly complaining about being kept inside at night and would climb all over our bedroom demanding to go out and if we had our bedroom door closed he would hammer and scratch at the door enough to wake the dog up who would then bark like an idiot and wake us up.
If left outside at night, he would wander around outside our window loudly complaining about being left outside and if that didn't work, he'd claw at and/or climb the screen on the sliding door of our bedroom until we let him in....and then, regardless of the time, he would demand to be fed and then let outside...again.
Now, I've had cats my whole entire life and I know all the things I listed in the list above are all things that cats do ...because that's what cats do....
BUT...
He seemed to take being a cat to a whole new level. ...and not in a good way.
And, he only came in the house to yell at us to feed him and then he yelled at us to let him out.
And, he wasn't cuddly or snuggly....so there was no redeeming behaviour to make up for all the crap stuff he did.
I have to admit that when/if I could get over the fact that he was a total pain in the ass asshole, he was also pretty f$@king funny. He was awesomely entertaining and was always making us laugh. He never let any of the revolving door of dogs we have in our home boss him around...including an 85 lb Giant Schnauzer. If any dog did make a move on him, he’d hold his ground and smack the dog in the face once and that was the end of any insubordination.
Like the Honey Badger, crazy nastyass Rowdy Cat didn't give a shit.
He also gives great cat head butts. (if you lean in to say”hi” he’ll bonk you on the forehead with his forehead...it's awfully cute)
So, to explain why I'm writing about some of the asshole stuff he did in the past tense and some of the stuff he does in the present tense ...it's because we don't know if he’ll do any of that stuff he used to do... once he recovers from his “ordeal”.
To Explain:
At the end of the summer, a girl that My Guy works with, moved to her new husband’s family farm and they needed cats to live in the barn and kill stuff...
You see where I'm going with this??
Well...as it turned out...
....we had a cat who liked to live outside and loved to kill stuff and who didn't seem to much care for us, his family/minions.
So...after a whole big bunch of thought and deliberation, we, as a family, decided that Asshole Cat would fare quite well on a farm working as a hired assassin. He'd love being outside all the time, patrolling the barn and the fields. ... and if, as a side-effect,we would, once again, be able to sleep and our Little Girl Cat would, once again, be able to live a life free of intimidation and physical violence...could it really be a bad thing?? Really??
Sounded like a super great idea at the time. ????
So...before the end of Labour Day weekend, Asshole Cat was relocated to a chicken farm 45 minutes away.
And....
Almost immediately, we regretted our decision.
We decided to give it time and allow everyone to settle in... ....once Rowdy came out of hiding and stopped hissing and growling at his lovely new people....
:(
Well, he did settle in and made himself at home in the barn and surrounding fields and things were going swimmingly... ...and then the shipment of baby chickens arrived and the barn was closed up and off-limits to the kitties....Understandable since murderous felines and 28 000 helpless baby chicks don't mix so well.
Apparently, Rowdy did not appreciate being kicked out of his new stomping grounds and hadn't yet warmed up to his newest new digs(the specially constructed Cat Shed) and.... He buggered off.
They didn't see him for weeks and then, only once caught a quick glimpse of him hunting in a neighbouring field.
None of this sat well with my guilt-ridden soul and I felt like a horrible HORRIBLE person and felt crazily guilty every time I saw another cat...especially other black cats....at work....or on Pinterest
Do you know how many fu*king cat pictures are on Pinterest??? Well...I'll tell you .... A Whole F&@KING Lot!!!
Do you know how many pics of BLACK cats are on Pinterest at Halloween?? You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
I was super duper worried about my little black cat being out and about all alone and who knows where on Halloween night...people have been known to do yucky things to black kitties on All Hallow's Eve.... That's if he even was still alive then :(
There are also far too many posts on Pinterest about how adopting a pet is a serious thing not be taken lightly and that it’s a forever thing and that pets love their families and only ask for love in return...that sort of thing. I'll try to post some of these gems so you can see what I was up against.
I'm enough of a bleeding heart animal lover that I didn't need other bleeding heart animal lovers makin’ me feel like an asshole for casting aside my adopted cat.
When it turned cold and snowy, I felt even more like an asshole, wondering how my little guy was keeping warm out there in the wilds...if he was still alive even.... :(
And then...
A week and a half ago...
My Sweetie called me and he had just heard from Rowdy’s Farm Mom that he had returned!!
Nearly 3 months after buggering off!!
So, that night, we hopped in the car, cat crate in hand, and Me and My Guy and The Girl drove 45 minutes through the cold dark night to reclaim our prodigal kitty.
We arrived at the farm and the Cat Hand-Off was made in dark of the yard and we whisked him off to the car and we drove approximately 37 seconds before I had to switch places with The Girl so I could sit in the back with my head resting on the crate with my hand stuck inside, scratching the cold pile of skin and bones that used to be my beautiful big strong sleek black cat.
I was a disaster. I pretty much sobbed for the entire trip home and beat myself up and berated myself and wallowed in a big puddle of mean old cat-ditcher guilt.
Man oh man....have I ever mentioned that I am a bit of a wienie??
So, we get him home and in the light he looks way less horrible than he had felt in the dark of the car. He was still skin and bones and weak and wobbly but his coat was still surprisingly sleek and shiny ...even if it was hanging on a skeleton.
And the big yucky lump on his neck that I had imagined to be a cancerous tumor for the whole ride home turned out to be a tick...
YUCK!!!
It looked like this:
YUCK!!!!!!!!!!!
And I gave it a gentle tug and it popped off like it was nothing.
(don't try this at home kids....you're not supposed to pull ticks off all willy nilly like because their little bloodsucking head stays in the skin there can be a whole lot of trouble but this guy must've been full to the brim ’cause he just fell off) I took it to the bathroom sink and tried to squish it in toilet paper and it was about as hard as a marble and when it finally did, it “POPPED” and exploded and scared the bejeezus outta me and My Guy....I think we both screamed like little girls...one of us actually is a girl therefore screaming like a little girl is way less embarrassing for that certain person ;)
The poor little guy knew exactly where he was and remembered us and curled up under a nice warm light and fell asleep for the night.
I brought him to the vet the next morning for a check-up...explaining that he had been missing for almost 3 months and had just showed up again the night before....omitting the part of the story that would’ve detailed how he was missing NOT from my home but from the farm we had given him, thereby NOT exposing myself as a cat-ditcher. I'm not saying it was the noble thing to do...but one can't always be noble can one??? Well...that's what I'm telling myself anyway.
He was given a tentative clean bill of health....in spite of being in a state of acute starvation and having a rather low core body temperature... I was instructed to feed him many wee meals throughout the day so as not to overtax his system and send his liver into shock... and to keep him inside as long as possible.
He lost over 4 lbs but is otherwise ok and, a week and a half later, he looks *almost* back to normal. His hip bones still jut out but his ribs and skull have some padding on them now.
He is still ravenous and has graciously lost his voice (from yelling for food) so he can only mime for food now :)
It's pretty funny. His voice sometimes makes a raspy reappearance which has earned him the name Smoker Cat.
He didn't even attempt to go outside until a couple of days ago.
Despite mistaking his bedand my Clean Towel Basket for a kitty litter in the first day or so of getting home ....which is understandable and forgivable ...and, I'm blaming it on a probable and well-earned bout of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome ...he’s back in the rhythm and flow of the household.
We were sadly giggling imagining him waking up that first morning back at home, looking around, rubbing his eyes and thinking, “Holy Shit!!!...that was the worst dream EVER!!!”
He and The Little Girl Cat now snuggle up and sleep together ...which never ever happened before ...and that's awfully sweet. Although as I write this, he just leaned over and chomped on her ear...uh oh...a sign of things to come??
Snuggle Buddies :)
Roo looking absolutely thrilled to have Rowdy home.
Will Asshole Cat return??
Once he gets his strength back, I'm sure he will return to his murderous ways and our rodent/bird population, after enjoying a hearty surge this fall, will no doubt dwindle back to its piddly summer self. And I'm prepared to deal with that. The newly re-erected bird feeders will re-retire back to their shelf in the garage and I will bid adieu to the pair of cardinals, the hundreds of chickadee-dee-dees and goldfinches and nuthatches that have entertained me for the past couple of months.
I hold out a faint glimmer of hope that he will retain his new kinder gentler personality and that he and Roo will remain snuggle buddies.
I also have almost convinced myself that he will exhibit admirable self-control and will decide to respect our sleeping habits....
If not, I have committed myself to living peacefully alongside whichever cat he decides to be....
Asshole Cat??
Rowdy Cat???
Rowdy the Asshole-ish Cat???
Fingers crossed.
And for now, I'll just have to make sure I sniff my towels before I use them to dry my face...
EEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!
p.s. This song has been going through my head ever since my Cat Came Back...
Blogger's Note: If you aren't interested in reading another post about cat pee, please look away.
So, just when I was beginning to recover from my facefulls of eau de CatPee scented towels, I made a rather disturbing discovery...
The towels weren't merely scented with residual cat pee (due to being absent-mindedly washed along with a cat pee-soaked towel).
...a sort of "guilt by smelly-association"....
Nope.
Unfortunately, they were not.
*sigh*
As luck would have it...the towels in question had been spritzed with the real deal.
Yep.
I dried my face...three times... with towels that my cat had actually peed directly upon.
....
....
....
ok...everyone please say it with me:
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!
Yep.
How f*@king gross is that??
I don't think I'll ever be the same.
To explain:
I was tidying up the bathroom last night and as I was putting some new non-catpee-scented towels in the Clean Towel Basket, I noticed some odd discolouration on the shelf underneath the wicker Clean Towel Basket ...and, upon inspection, it turns out that odd discolouration was full-strength unadulterated ...
...Cat Pee.
The way I figure it, Rowdy Cat, while in the throes of a bit of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (to be explained in a later post) likely forgot what the litter box was for and decided that a nice wicker basket in a nice secluded corner in the bathroom would be a wonderful place in which to void his bladder...and that the basket was lined with nice soft towels was just an added bonus.
An added bonus for him, anyway.
So...yeah...actual real cat pee rubbed in my face after my shower.
Thrice.
I yearn for the time of innocence when I was under the blissful assumption that it was just the smell of cat pee thrice rubbed in my face after my shower.
I spent the entire movie in an state of extreme giddy titillation.
Dirtbike chases through Istanbul??
Oh yeah!!
Fist fights on the roof of a train??
You betcha!!
A bad guy plummets to his death from the shot out window of a crazy tall neon lit skyscraper in Shanghai?
Yep!!
A bad guy gets eaten by a Komodo Dragon??
Absolutely!!
Steamy shower smoochy scenes??
Bring it on!!
...and that all happened in the first 8 minutes!! ...not really...probably more like the first half hour, but still.
Goddamn, I love James Bond movies...ones with Daniel Craig in them anyway.
I am a relative newcomer to the whole James Bond thing having only watched the 3 movies featuring Daniel Craig as 007. I am fully ...and completely ... entertained by the over the top action scenes and the cool gadgets and the implausible story lines...and by D.C. himself.
Yum.
Daniel Craig rocks my socks.
Check back with me later...I think we might watch some more Bond movies, starting back 50 years ago at the beginning of the movies and working our way to present day.
We'll see if my fondness for all things Mr. Bond spans the ages.
Sean Connery is almost as dreamy as D.C. so I think his movies will pass muster.
