Slave to Mr. Stinny (The One and Only Blind Super-Cat)

LOLCat

2007-07-18T12:10:00.000-05:00

DIV id=testResultInfo>

Your Score: SurpriseAdoption Cat

47 % Affection, 54 % Excitability , 33 % Hunger

Calloused. Heartless. Exuberant. You carry the heavy burden of informing children that they are adopted by jumping out of their birthday cake. A difficult task, but somebody must break the news.

Link: The Which Lolcat Are You? Test written by GumOtaku on OkCupid Free Online Dating, home of the The Dating Persona Test

Moving

2007-01-31T10:40:00.000-05:00

Eventually, this blog will close down and I will only be writing at:

All My Children Meow and Woof.

Although I write about my Irish Wolfhound's "bout" with bone cancer there, I will expand my topics.

I need to figure out how to move my posts and archives from this blog to the other. We will see what happens!

Thanks.

General Note to Self

2007-01-29T09:39:00.000-05:00

When I am in charge of something or someone other than the pens on my desk, remember, do not be a complete fuckwad to people who work with me just because I am a stress case. Even if I am a gem 99% of the time.

Technically Inept Scientist

2007-01-28T20:28:00.000-05:00

Good Lord. I just sent my husband, a scientist mind you, to check the laundry in the dryer. When he went downstairs, the dryer was still running. He came back upstairs.

Prof. H: "The dryer is still running. You did not give me the proper information. Do I look at the dial or do I make a judgment call to determine the clothes are dry?"

Me: "Check the dial to see if it is almost done."

Prof. H: "What does almost done mean? I need a figure. Ten minutes? Five minutes?"

Me: "Uhhhh. Five or ten, I guess. Feel the clothes to see if they are dry."

Prof. H: "Right. Thanks."

He comes back up.

Me: "Did you put the wash in the dryer?

Prof. H: "I forgot. How do I get it from the washer to the dryer? Do I put the clothes in the basket?"

Me: "Usually that's how it works."

He has an instrument in his laboratory that he built and does fancy experiments on it. Please don't ask me what because it is WAY to complicated. Let's just say it combines physics and chemistry. He replaced all the windows in our house. He can replace the brakes on our car, repair the roof, and clean a bathroom like nobody's business. I sweeps, mops, and organizes. He keeps the lawn cut and tidy.

And yet, he cannot figure out the dryer AND he does not know how program the DVD. Science geeks will never cease to amaze me.

Project 365

2007-01-26T09:21:00.000-05:00

Mmmm.. Snow. Tastes like chicken.

Also Known As

2007-01-24T13:45:00.000-05:00

Because I have been in a depressed, foul, nasty mood for the last few weeks, I decided to give myself a new "name". I admit I watch Grey's Anatomy (it's cheesy, soap opera-like, SO WHAT!?) and my inspiration for this name comes from there:

Attorney McBitchy

That should explain it all.

Senator McCain Texting

2007-01-24T09:09:00.000-05:00

During the CBS broadcast of the State of the Union, the camera would focus on a Senator or Representative during the speech. At some point, I swear to Mr. Stinny that it looked like Senator McCain was sending a text message. What on earth would he write? Here are some of my thoughts. I had to look up text abbreviations b/c well, I am not a 15 year old who spends her day texting to her BFF's:

While listening to Bush's suggestions on tax breaks for health insurance:

Prez iz a tul if he thinx it can wrk. FUBAR.

When Speaker of the House is introduced:

Sheez 2 kul 4 skul. LMAO

After 45 minutes into the address:

Dudez taking 4EAE. Meet @ 7-11 4 some Colt 40z.

On the war in Iraq:

IIABDFI. :-----) ROFL!!

Definitions for those like me who having no idea about the abbreviations

FUBAR = Fucked up beyond all recognition

4EAE = For ever and ever

IIABDFI = If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It.

:-----) = Long nosed liar.

Project 365

2007-01-24T08:58:00.000-05:00

Profiling Shrimpycat.

Project 365

2007-01-23T09:39:00.000-05:00

Whiskers, Paws, and Fur

Finnegan the 3 Legged Irish Wolfhound

2007-01-22T09:40:00.001-05:00

Please forgive my voice and jerky filming.

Run Finnegan Run!

2007-01-22T09:32:00.000-05:00

I will post Finnegan's great movie premiere up above. I am NOT tech savvy so I apologize for the jerky filming, my voice, etc. etc...

It's called: Three-Legged Irish Wolfhound Running in the Snow for Make Benefit of Most Glorious Medical Bills- oh wait, Sacha Baron Cohen already took that title...

It's Official - I'm Supporting Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton

2007-01-22T09:21:00.000-05:00

I've joined Team Hillary. When I finished graduate school, I told myself that when the 2008 Presidential elections rolled around, I would join a campaign. At that point, I was pretty sure I would support Hillary Rodham Clinton. After Barrack Obama announced his candidacy, I began to have second thoughts about who I would support. Like many other democrats, his speech at the Democrat National Convention inspired me. His ideas were inspiring and his enthusiasm was contagious. Certainly, if Senator Rodham Clinton does not win the democratic primaries, I will support the democratic candidate. For now, Hillary is my candidate of choice because I believe she has the intelligence, experience, and vision to pull this country out of is downward spiral and back to a place where I can be proud to say I am from the United States of America.

[insert cheesy patriotic music and cheering here]

Project 365

2007-01-22T08:28:00.001-05:00

Keeping Up with Boilermaker's

2007-01-21T15:31:00.000-05:00

I think my neighbors are attempting to keep up with the Boilermaker's:

On Thursday morning, Prof. H. and I were heading out to work when our neighbor opened her window and shouted: "Hey Guys! Can I ask you a question?"

Prof. H. and I looked at each other and responded: "Sure?"

"The girls' ride forgot to pick them up today. Would you mind driving them to school?"

"Uh, sure."

Some background information: the girls are two elementary aged kids who are just fine. My neighbor is their grandmother. Her daughter and the mother of the girls is "The Breeder" as we affectionately call her. For some reason, the girls live with grandmother most of the time. I have a few guesses why but I won't elaborate. WT Grandma (WT = White Trash) has some issues of her very very own.

A few questions:

Why couldn't WT Grandma drive them? (car repossessed? taking care of delinquent step-son's out-of-wedlock baby too?)
Wouldn't the appropriate question to us would be: "Can I ask you a favor?"

Reason # 473 why I want to move.

I thought it felt hot in here...

2007-01-21T14:26:00.000-05:00

Martin Luther King III

2007-01-19T08:29:00.000-05:00

Last night, Prof. H. and I went to hear MLK III speak at PSU Erie, The Behrend College. I decided to underline "the" because while I waiting for MLK III to begin his speech, I kept staring at the college's name in huge letters behind the stage and wonder what the point of the "the" was. For some reason, it bugs me. If PSU Erie, The Behrend College decides they want my very valuable opinion, I will tell them to lose the "the". By the way, I enjoy writing "the 'the'". It brings joy to my unexciting life.

And no, that was not the only wisdom I took away from his talk. Generally, I thought he made a lot of great points about the Iraq War, racism, violence, and several other social critiques of our society. I was moderately disappointed with the parts where he quoted his father because he did not have quite the same passion as when he spoke off the cuff.

One small aspect of his speech that left me thinking was about public education. He did not delve too deep into this subject other than to say public schools need much more money, children need young adults to be role models and mentors, and being "ignant" ain't cool. That brings me to some unorganized and random thoughts about how some folks refuse to send their children to public schools.

Eventually, Prof. H. and I will begin to populate the earth with our very own socially twisted offspring. We have had numerous heated discussions about public school versus private and the merits of sending children to public schools. Both of us attended public schools. I went to a small, suburban, homogenous school where 81% of my graduating class when to college. Prof. H. went to a large diverse high school outside of an urban area with a smaller percentage attending college. We both attended college and obtained graduate degrees. Certainly, our lowly public school educations did not do us wrong.

I find that here, many folks are disenchanted with the city's public schools and would rather fork out the big bucks to send their children to parochial schools. Certainly there are some schools within the city limits that are lacking in resources and have overpopulated classrooms. I have reviewed some of the reports on the schools' quality and it does not appear that they are all categorically failing. In fact, some of the schools seem to be meeting or exceeding state standards. Others have put in unique programs such as an environmental curriculum to broaden the students horizons, so to speak.

Now I might be overreaching and I do not mean to categorize all parents who send their children to parochial schools. I do think that some people might be afraid to send their children to public schools with students who are economically disadvantaged. That is unfortunate. Just because someone does not have the same material advantages does not mean the person is any less motivated or intellegent or interesting. Look at Prof. H. and me. I grew up in a relatively homogenous affluent community with married parents and a stay-at-home mother, and I went to college and graduate school. Prof. H. grew up with divorced parents in an economically disadvantaged household and he went to college and graduate school. Perhaps I am simplifying things. Obviously, we are not the ideal model and perhaps we are unique in our circumstances. I do think if more parents who are better off financially sent their children to public schools, the schools would get the attention they need and there would be less of a stigma from attending a public school.

Of course, let's wait and see what happens when we have children and send them to school. I hope not but I might just eat my words.

Cool Website, Good Cause

2007-01-17T10:02:00.000-05:00

While perusing the internet, i.e. not working, I came across this cool website called Crafters for Critters. On the site they have different craft goods such as jewelry, clothing, and other fun stuff that are handmade. A certain percentage of the proceeds goes to animal organizations. If you are looking for a cool little gift for someone or yourself, I suggest checking this site out! The picture is from their Info page.

[Cross posted from Finnegan's Osteosarcoma Ordeal]

Warning: The Following Post WILL Contain Strong Language

2007-01-16T20:12:00.000-05:00

Dear Dumbass Who Almost Ran Over My Husband,

Watch the fuck where you are driving. Backing up at top speed from your driveway, across West 32nd Street and into a cross street is an extremely dumb ass move. Especially when you fail to look behind you by either turning your head to look behind you or by using one of three mirrors put in your car so that you can, oh guess what? Look the fuck behind you. I realize we are pedestrians and we do have a duty to watch where we are going but we are not god damn mind readers. We always pause and look both ways. However, we do not anticipate this exceptionally brilliant vehicular maneuver of flying like a bat out of hell from your driveway to only stop on the side street for your own very special reason.

And yes, I did respond maturely by giving you the finger under my mitten.

With Love,

A Pissed Off Runner

Chill Out Dude, It's the Coop

2007-01-15T18:41:00.000-05:00

I realize 15 percent off day is a very exciting event at the local Coop. To briefly explain, those who are members receive 15% off all purchases on the 15th day of the month. I admit, I love seeing my grand total drop $20.00, and on big spending days, gulp, even $40.00.

Because of this huge discount, everyone and her cousin is at the store buying all their organic goodies. And because the store is smallish for a grocery store, it tends to be crowded, and shopping carts and folks get in the way. It's par for the course. No big whoop. Usually, everyone is friendly and understands the small hassle of shopping in this crowded vegetarian oasis.

But not today. As I was weighing my bulk foods at the scale, a very pushy woman plopped her goods on the scale while I was in the process of putting one weighed bag into my cart and bringing the other on the scale. Clearly, I was standing in front of the scale. When I gave her an inquisitive look, she said in what I thought was a snotty voice, "I did not realize you were still using the scale. I thought you were just standing in front of it."

Well if I was, couldn't you wait the five seconds it would take for me to get out of the way? Are you in that much of a hurry? I have attached a really sophisticated diagram using Microsoft Paint to demonstrate our positions. Of course I editorialized. Honestly, it made me feel like I was in elementary school again.

Next time this happens I am going to shout: "NO CUTSIES YOU BIG MEANIE ROCKETHEAD!"

That will show 'em.

Updated What Else I Want to Do When I Eventually Grow Up

2007-01-15T11:49:00.000-05:00

As I sit here in my office, painfully bored and struck by how mundane my job is, I realized there are so many other things I want to do professionally. I think it might be due to my ADD tendancies but sitting on at a desk for hours at a time is really not for me. So, here is an addition to my potential career moves, some realistic, some idealistic:

Boutique owner where I sell funky clothes, jewelry and shoes, and have a small dog or cat (not necessary small) roaming the store;
Doggy daycare owner where I never ever ever need to wear a suit or dress up and jeans are mandatory (sort of conflicts with #1);
Artist because I find most relaxation and satisfaction when pursuing creative endeavors (and hell, I might as well put my studio art B.A. to use);
Editor at a publishing company or journal or magazine where I work at home (although this blog might not exemplify my keen eye for editing, I enjoy reviewing other writers' work and using my red pen); and
Have an alpaca farm and an organic vegetable farm.

*Sigh*

Sad but True

2007-01-11T12:01:00.000-05:00

The other female spouses in Prof. H's department and I are referred to as:

The [insert Prof. H's field of study here] Wives.

We are called that because first, we do "outings" together (read eat and consume alcohol) and (b), I think I live in Leave It to Beaver Land. I am not sure how I feel about this. I have been called worse. If we must have a name for us, I think we need cool jackets like the Pink Ladies or we should have our very own gang signal to flash.

Any Moment Now...

2007-01-10T10:27:00.000-05:00

The newest member of my technology family is arriving today!! It joins Prof. H's adorable iPod Nano. My iPod Mini looks like a monster next to it. I cannot wait to get my hands on my shiny new camera so perhaps I can start participating in Project 365. My six year old digital camera and my cell phone camera just do not cut it anymore.

Regifting Jesus

2007-01-07T13:41:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday!

2007-01-05T19:06:00.000-05:00

Today is Prof. H's birthday! Because he does not like parties or attention, we are meeting friends at a swank martini lounge for imbibing tonight. Unfortunately, the smoking ban is not in effect so I will still return home smelling foul. I believe I picked a martini bar with the least amount of smoke.

When going out for an evening, I find it so difficult to select something to wear. I hate dressing up too much but I also don't want to look like a huge slob. My latest fashion venture is red lipstick. Because I am fair skinned with dark hair, it looks half-way decent. Another pain in the arse is the size of my arse. My eating and exercise habits were fabulous before the holidays and then... POOF! 8 pounds. Back to running, back to eating better, yada yada yada.

Now, back to the birthday boy. Tomorrow, I am taking Prof. H. to a spa for a couples massage and vichy scrub. What a good wife am I.

Would You Stay Here? Or, the Best Guest Reviews EVER!!!!!!

2007-01-03T16:36:00.000-05:00

Prof. H and I are going for a quick trip in order for him to meet with a person with whom he is collaborating. He has traveled to this place before and stayed at a motel that he felt was suitable. After all, it had HBO! I had my suspicions about the amenities of this establishment and suggested a different location. While Prof. H searched for a more suitable hotel, he came across guest reviews of this lovely [sarcasm] motel. Seriously, you cannot make this stuff up:

Guest review #1: Old, dirty facility - carpets needed vacuuming - bathroom wasn't clean, shower didn't work - won't stay again, don't recommend

Yes, it is unpleasant to have dirty carpets. Certainly, it is pretty foul to use a dirty motel bathroom. But showers not working and you won't return to this classy establishment? Picky picky picky.

Guest review # 2: Disgusting room with debris and black carpet stains, gray bed sheets and an overpowering disinfectant odor - gross bath with dirty corners, dead bugs in light fixtures, threadbare towels and a painted toilet seat - definitely not recommended

All this review needs is: "chalk outline of human body next to black carpet stains made me uncomfortable". At least this person found dead bugs in the lights and not a dead person in the closet. Whiner. What kind of debris is found in a motel room?

Guest review # 3: Room furniture not as advertised - no easy chair and no table
with chairs in any of our 4 rooms

And if the carpet is like the one above, I would not be sitting on the floor.

Guest review # 4: Nothing fancy, but nice - close to heart of town, university, and grocery - affordable - room had fridge and microwave - bathroom fixtures were worn

This person must have had the Presidential Suite.

Guest review # 5: Uncomfortable place - no dead bolt lock or key card system, so our room felt unsafe - bath toiletries were in cheap packets, towels were tiny, and the toilet wobbled - desk person was barefooted and difficult to talk to - we left immediately

I still cannot stop laughing about the barefooted desk person. Classic.

Learnin's from the Holidays

2007-01-01T16:03:00.000-05:00

I thought I was original but hell, I am not. Emma wrote about three things she learned about at her family gathering. Initially, I contemplated making a list of things I loved about the holiday and three things I hated about the holiday but that seemed too negative. One of my fake resolutions is to try to not be so negative (I deliberately wrote "not be so negative" because I don't really want to become Ms. Positive). And to watch my new favorite show Weeds as much as possible. I love Mary Louise Parker.

Because I love lists, here are some Learnin's:

I love my family a lot and wish we all lived closer to each other;
I dislike petty family arguments;
Eating is a competitive sport;
"She" will always be a bitch;
Keeping one's house at 61 degrees in the winter is NOT comfortable;
Parking in Boston is a nightmare;
Seeing a friend I have not seen in ten year is fantastic;
Meeting our friends' seven day old baby felt amazing;
My parents are as adorable as everyone says;
It is better to let the little things go rather than give an opinion or be bossy;
Death is sudden and unexpected;
Seeing my aunt five days before she unexpectedly died made her passing a little easier;
I wish I could travel with all my animal children during the holidays because they really are my family;
A hybrid car would be awesome for traveling 1,000 plus miles round trip;
It is impossible (for me) not to contract some virus while traveling;
I actually like my in-laws;
This town needs an Indian restaurant; AND
Last, but certainly not least, this town and Prof. H and my house now feels like home.

Happy New Year.

Phobias

2006-12-22T10:10:00.000-05:00

I admit that I have many irrational phobias. As Emma described her experience, I do not like strangers standing too close to me either. Actually, I get a little freaked out by it. Indoor malls make me claustrophobic. Flying, buses, and small bathrooms do too. I hate going to Walmart and huge grocery stores with really bright lights. It is just too much stimulation for a country girl like myself (yeah right).

The night before last, I found a new phobia while walking Finnegan. Those moving/mechanical reindeer freak me out. They resemble this. Finny and I could hear the creaking of the deer moving its head slowly up and down. I know Finny did not like the deer either because he kept looking at them with his head cocked while probably thinking: "What the feck is that?" Honestly, I do believe my animal children have the vocabulary of a drunken sailor. Out on the dark street corner with no one around, - and no, I was not pimping out Finny - it felt like a scene from a horror movie. It seemed like at any moment, this seemingly innocent decoration would come to life with fangs and attack us. I realize I have an active imagination but still, there are something about these decorations that just ain't right.

On a separate note, there are so many houses lit up within a ten mile radius of my house, I am quite sure Erie can be seen from many galaxies way.

THANK YOU!

2006-12-20T08:55:00.000-05:00

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

I would publicly like to the Erie County Council for passing the smoking ban in public places!

Can you feel that? That is the feeling of taking in a deep breath without being subjected to cigarette smoke.

Thank you and CHEERS!

*Amendment: I just learned that the lawsuit in Allegheny County might make the new ban moot. COME ON PEOPLE!!! There are so many places who have banned smoking and still have plenty of patrons. Perhaps the Legislature will get on board to change the laws at the state level to make a smoking band legal.

Festivus for the Rest of Us!

2006-12-19T15:10:00.000-05:00

Only 5 days until Festivus! Unfortunately, I will be traveling to Vermont for the holidays on the 23rd. Hopefully, I can convince my folks to have a real traditional Festivus celebration when we arrive. It could be so special! Instead of wrestling the head of the household (my 75 year old father), I could wrestle Bode, their excessively large Holstein like cat while I trim his nails. By the way, one of the "perks" from formerly being in the veterinary business is that I am asked to trim my family and friends' pets' nails. Jealous? Didn't think so because these are also the most difficult animals who despise being restrained and having their precious little nails trimmed.

I will have to find a really pretty aluminum pole on the way up there. Maybe I'll get lucky and find one on the side of the interstate! A girl can only dream...

Congratulations Samantha!

2006-12-16T14:03:00.000-05:00

After all the sad news with our local zoo, I was delighted to hear that Samantha the gorilla does not have a tumor.

Tell us how you really feel

2006-12-15T13:58:00.000-05:00

Boy, I'm a charmer. Here's a email I sent to my friend's boyfriend who is in law school now:

Hi [Poor Law Student],

[Groovy Girlfriend] said I should email you about your PR exam because you have [Prolific Fact Pattern Professor] and I had him/her for the world's most fucking useless law school course: [Shitty Useless Class]. First, practice reading really fast b/c her/his fucking fact patterns are like fucking novels. Second, put notes next to
paragraphs as you think of things b/c you won't remember all the fucking inane
babble s/he puts in there.
Good luck.

[Cranky McStinny]

Is It Possible to Be More of a Dork Than Me?

2006-12-15T09:41:00.000-05:00

Suggested response: No. One of my favorite professors taught his last class this week. I sent him an email congratulating him on his retirement. He sent back a simple response:

[Ms. Slave], Thanks for the kind words. [his initials here]
>>>
>>>
Dear Professor [Most Favorite],

I wanted to congratulate you on teaching your final class. I learned so much from you in both Property and Decedents' Estates and Trusts. I hope you have a relaxing and enjoyable retirement! Thank you for being such an outstanding professor.

I feel like a twelve year old again when I sent a fan letter to my favorite celebrity and actually received a response.

I'm giddy! Maybe I will frame the email!

Where to Go, What to Do

2006-12-15T08:30:00.000-05:00

Prof. H. is up for tenure next year (actually 2008) and he has a pretty decent shot of getting it. After all, he worked his ass off for three years while I was elsewhere getting my JD and continues to work his ass off while I am living in the very same house as he. Go figure crazy anal retentive type-A personality.

Because he has been working hard and he will have a HUMONGOUS GINORMOUS BIGGY weight off his shoulders if/when he gets tenure, I would like to do something celebratory for him (and me - let's not kid ourselves). Besides having a huge party where large amounts of sushi and alcohol are consumed, I would like to take him on a fantastic, once-in-a-lifetime voyage.

And no, I do not mean Disneyland. For the life of me, I cannot understand why anyone would answer the question: "Now that you have won [insert championship here], what do want to do now?" with "Go to Disneyworld!". Theme parks scare the shit out of me and I think it stems from my fear of clowns, Santa Claus, and generally fitting into society.

I mean photo safari in Africa, river cruise in Russia, hiking to base camp of Mt. Everest amazing. At first, I thought a trip to Europe would be nice. Going to Italy and France. People watching, drinking wine, eating great food. But then I realized, this is the time to do something amazing before we become too wrapped up into what we are doing. Now is the time to throw a backpack on and look adventure straight in the eye. To take passport in hand and ask: "Where next?" To wear the same pair of underwear five days in a row. Okay, not really. That is for my coworkers who mock me for reusing Ziploc baggies. SCREW THEM!

So hopefully in June 2008, Prof. H and I will be on a great travel extravaganza that we will talk about well into our old old age when we are grey and wrinkled with fleeting memories of our more adventurous times.

What the Feck?

2006-12-12T13:51:00.000-05:00

On my drive this morning while innocently listening to NPR, I heard a bizzarro story out of Texas. A fine Texas legislator introduced a bill allowing legally blind hunters to use laser sight, spot lights, and headlights when hunting. Apparently, the bright light stuns the deer thereby allowing the legally blind hunter to shoot its victim. I am all for making various jobs and activities more accessible for folks with disabilities but seriously? We need more people out in the woods hunting?

Yet again, thank you Texas for being, well, you.

Finnegan Is my Hero

2006-12-11T16:43:00.000-05:00

Today the Erie Times wrote a nice little article about a chocolate lab with severe hip dysplasia. Her humans fashioned a dog wheelchair out of a human wheelchair by putting a platform on it. Because of that article, I decided to write a little bit about helping a dog adapt to a disability on Finnegan's side of the Internet. Choosing to amputate you animal companion's limb is a huge decision to make. The results can be well worth the initial struggle if the human is educated about the process and willing to put a lot of effort into helping her canine companion succeed with three legs. Additionally, there are a lot of options for assistive devices to help make the transition easier, including dog wheelchairs and slings. When Finnegan could not walk by himself, we used sheets as slings to give him an extra boost. Eventually, and I must say rather quickly, he gained the strength and confidence to walk without help. In fact, he takes short walks with me in the neighborhood.

HURRAY FINNEGAN!

Oops I Did It Again! (barely)

2006-12-11T10:09:00.000-05:00

Ahhhh, Britney. She always has a the right words for every occasion. Yet again, I found myself compelled to complete another 5k road race. And no, I did not finish last. I beat an 80 year old. Actually, I did better than that. My performance did not break any records. The roads were icy and it was quite cold. This was the first time I ran with my Ipod and my music selection sucked. I definitely need to work on my race music. My pace was slow because I was terrified I would fall, land on my wrist, fracture it again, be ridiculed by my doctor, ostracized by my friends and family, and would have to enter into a relocation program. I know I could have run faster BUT...I did not. Also, I learned: as a beginner runner, it is generally a bad idea to do two races within two weeks. Tsk tsk. My plan is to do one race per month (with the exception of taking January off to lick my wounds) and to actually train for the race by doing intervals and speed training. Perhaps, someday I will actually do a marathon. Hold on...

HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I had to laugh and snort coffee out my nose. Damn, that's funny. Let's just stick to short races for now, 10k and under.

Running Fool on Music

2006-12-08T11:44:00.000-05:00

The emphasis is on fool. Yet again, I am running in another 5K road race tomorrow. My calves are quite sore from running on the treadmill this past Wednesday. Also, it is going to be cold with the possibility of snow and ice on the road. Of course, that can be treacherous for a person like me who sprains her ankle jumping off a deck (age 9), breaks her foot walking across the living room (age 10), breaks her thumb playing lacrosse (age 17), and breaks her wrist bicycling (this summer). I think that I might need some padding for this outdoor run.

Besides worrying about my unbelievable klutziness, I decided I need to bring le i-pod for this run. The question is: what type of music should I save for running? I looked on Google for some suggestions and found a pretty wide assortment of genres. Runners suggested everything from House of Pain to Britney Spears to Cypress Hill. There are certain songs I sing in my head (because if I were to sing out loud I would either hurt the other runners' ear drums or I would pass out because I could not possibly run AND sing at the same time) including The Doors "Break on through to the Other Side". It actually becomes more of a chant and I repeat that lyric over and over and over again until I pass into a zen like trance. Obviously, downloading just that line from the song onto my ipod would probably end up causing some sort of breakdown and Jim Morrison type hallucination in the midst of mile 2.7 thereby causing me to run through the woods dodging half tiger half squirrel creatures. By the way, I cannot believe I put in "tiger squirrel" in Google Images and found a tiger squirrel.

Which brings me to: what songs should I listen to so that I run faster and don't get bored? These decisions are killinggggggggggg meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Dancing Fool or is it a Fool Dancing?

2006-12-04T17:26:00.000-05:00

Next weekend, I have two events that involve dancing. One is formal and the other is out-on-the-town, with a group of 30-something couples. Back in the day when I was in college, perhaps a mere ten years ago, I loved to go out dancing. Usually on a Thursday night, my friends and I would head out around 10:30 to R.J.'s to drink and get our groove on. I must say that I danced fairly well and could dance for hours, with the help of Kahlua and milk, of course. And don't mock me. My drink of choice in college was K & M after a very very bad vodka experience. I get the spins just thinking about it.

In graduate school, my nights dancing dwindled. Most of the time, we headed out to a coffee bar or pub where busting a move could not be found. When I returned home and met the future Mr. Professor Husband, we danced even less...and less...and...less. Our first dance at our wedding involved me kicking my train out of the way because the bustle would not stay in place. Thereafter, I did some fine "Elaine" dance moves from Seinfeld and a smooth Mary Katherine Gallagher performance from SNL. Yes, folks, I can be classy at a four star resort.

During my next stint in graduate school, there were two opportunities to glide across the dance floor. The Graduate School Ball (read Prom). At the first one, Dr. H and I danced to big band music. Although I tend to lead and Dr. H. attempts to gracefully glide me across the floor, our dancing ain't pretty but it works for us and we enjoy ourselves. After the Big Band left, a D.J. set up his music and began playing rap. Not just your run of the mill, top 40 rap, but what sounded like to a suburban/country bumpkin girl: gangsta rap. Certainly, rap is appropriate at some venues; however, a "formal ball" does not seem to be one of them. I tried my best to dance but I could not find the beat and felt like again that I was dancing like Elaine, but not intentionally. That is when the voice in my head screamed: "YOU ARE GETTING OLD!" Furthermore, I kept thinking and might have actually said out loud: "I can't believe what kids are listening to these days."

We attended another ball my last year in graduate school. This time the D.J. played music from the 80's and 90's (i.e. songs I recognized) and I enjoyed dancing. Granted, it wasn't purdy. I'm sure I took my shoes off and had one too many drinks in my system. The great part about it was that I had fun dancing with my friends and Prof. H.

Fast forward to next weekend. The first event is a formal affair where I have been told drinks flow freely. I think that I can handle it. I have a nice outfit and I can enjoy watching others make asses out of themselves because I am at a point where I do not drink to get drunk. The second event is going out "on the town" with 30-something friends. To dance. In public. Probably at a club.

Because I am a newbie to the area, I have no idea where to go. I rather not go to a college bar because well, I am not in college. Also, I prefer someplace not too smokey. Those two prerequisites eliminate most of my options. The question is: where?

Jeezum Crow

2006-12-04T16:23:00.000-05:00

Some days I really really really wish I could write about my job here but alas, there's that whole confidentiality thingy and not losing my job stuff. But the weirdest things do go down in workplaces. That's all for now.

On a slightly different but relevant tangent, here are some careers I should have done instead:

Veterinarian (I admit it, I like animals better than people)
Nurse Practitioner (I like the medical field somewhat)
Pub and brewery owner (Mmmmm, beer...)
World leader (yeah right)
Professional boss of people (DO WHAT I SAY DAMMIT)
Leadership analyst at the CIA (it's a real job)
Party/Event Planner (I like parties, sue me, wait don't)
Professional rock climber (long, long time ago maybe)
Outdoor gear shop owner (REI/EMS but on a smaller scale)
Have an Animal Planet show on something involving a lot of travel to really cool places
Advice columnist (SO I CAN TELL YOU WHAT TO DO DAMMIT)

On a more serious note, after reading over at Eriepressible, I added some other choices:

Librarian (I love books)
Used book store owner (see above)
Artist (I was a studio art major in college)
Doggy daycare owner (how fun would it be to spend time with dogs all day!)
Art and antiquity restoration (see # 3)
City planner (I have some many ideas for this city!)
Professor of Women's Studies (graduate degree)

Back to the real world...

Vegetarian's Review of Pho 78

2006-12-04T10:25:00.000-05:00

For an Asian restaurant, Pho 78 does not have many vegetarian options. That does not mean the choices taste bad. Saturday night, Professor Husband and I went to Pho 78 for dinner. Perhaps it was because we went a little late but we were the only patrons at the restaurant. Needless to say, we were seated and served promptly.

Because it was freezing outside, we ordered hot tea to warm us up. For appetizers, I had the vegetarian spring roll and Prof. H ordered the shrimp rolls. My appetizer came out quickly. As usual, it tasted good and the vegetables inside were fresh and crisp. I must say that I love the sauce that comes with the rolls. It is a nice combination of peanutty goodness and spicy. For some reason, Prof. H's shrimp rolls did not come out until after our vegetarian vermicelli bowls were served. It seems like if two people order appetizers, one would bring them both out at the same time. The shrimp roll was not what was expected. Prof. H expected an actual roll with veggies, noodles and shrimp. Instead, it was shrimp wrapped in a roll and deep fried. He said it tasted fine but it was not exactly what he wanted.

The vegetarian bowls had fresh vegetables and those weird crispy pieces of tofu that I don't quite get. I think Pho 78 is the only place that cooks the tofu that way. The vermicelli did not have quite as much a kick as I would have hoped. I added some of the different sauces from the lazy susan (I love the fact there is a lazy susan at the table) to give it a more spicy flavor. Overall, I enjoyed the meal.

Here is my favorite part of the dining experience. There is a television in the far corner. This particular night, they were watching a Star Search-like show from somewhere in Vietnam. Honestly, I am not sure what it was considering there was a woman in a very tiny bikini strutting her stuff across the stage and a man in drag putting on some sort of skit with another man. Also, the audience members dressed in evening gowns and black tie. Actually, most of the singers were quite good (one woman had an amazing voice) with the exception of this one woman singing with an American rapper who I could not identify. She sang she was searching for "her special friend" and in the chorus she rapped (?) "four, five, six I don't know who to pick, seven take me straight to heaven".

It was awesome. Truly awesome.

It makes me wonder what people from other countries think when they watch "talent" shows from the United States like American Idol and Dancing with the Stars.

In sum, Pho 78 has good vegetarian options (even more so if you eat fish) for a reasonable price. If you like spice, you should probably add some of the sauces from the lazy susan (susan, get off your ass!).

Pho 78, 3965 West 12th Street, Erie, PA 16505-3343 (814) 833-8883

Vegetarian's Review of Butch's Place

2006-12-02T13:22:00.000-05:00

Breakfast is my favorite meal and when a friend suggested Butch's Place, I decided to check it out. With a name like "Butch's Place", I was initially skeptical. I imagined a smokey diner (yeah, yeah, dinor) with greasy meat-loaded options. Fortunately, I was pleasantly surprised.

First, we noted a small sign in the window stating it was a non-smoking establishment. Of course, that delighted us. We entered the diner and found it was clean, bright, and inviting. There was a small row of seats at the counter for the individual patron. The vast majority of Butch's Place had plenty of seating and the room was split into two sections. Although the restaurant was full, the volume of the crowd was not unreasonable with the exception of one man speaking in A REALLY LOUD VOICE about shooting things down and tearing down sheet metal. Honestly, the rest of us do not care.

As the waitress seated us, she asked if we wanted coffee or another beverage. Immediately, she brought hot coffee to our table. A nice bonus was finding Splenda at the table. Although most of breakfast choices had meat, the dishes could easily be prepared without it. I selected the Cajun eggs with poached eggs, onions, peppers, hash browns, wheat toast, and no ham. My husband ordered two eggs over easy with hash browns and rye toast. After we ordered, the waitress asked if we were vegetarians. When eating out in this city, waitstaff rarely inquire about our eating habits. The one exception was Cafe 38 and they were unbelievably accommodating. I told her that we are vegetarians. She said her daughter never liked to eat meat and when she turned sixteen, she allowed her daughter to become a vegetarian. We discussed how preparing meals for vegetarians is a lot simpler than most believe. I appreciated her understanding towards our eating habits rather than the usual accusations and questioning I typically receive when I tell folks that I opt not to eat meat.

She brought the food out within five to ten minutes. Everything was hot and the portions were quite large. The cook poached the eggs perfectly: runny but not so much that I feared an encounter with salmonella. The green peppers and onions were cooked just enough so they were not too crispy (burnt beyond recognition) or too soggy (where the grease could lubricate my entire digestive system). The potatoes were slightly dry and bland but if I mixed them with the eggs, they tasted fine. I would suggest cooking the potatoes with the onions and peppers to give them more flavor. Perhaps a little bit of fresh or crushed garlic and spices would give the dish even more of a kick. Overall, priced at $14.00 our breakfast was a good deal for the portions and quality.

On a side note, no eggs Benedict could be found on the menu. Since moving here, I have been on a mission to find eggs Benedict. The only restaurant which serves it is Eat N Park and it was literally one of the most disgusting meals I have ever eaten. Of course as my husband pointed out, I should have known. Fake orange cheese IS NOT a substitute for hollandaise sauce. So alas, I will continue my journey to find edible eggs Benedict's. Bonus to anyone who serves polenta eggs Benedict like Ruth's in Salt Lake City. Yummmmmm.

Butch's Place, 3330 West 26th Street, Erie, PA 16506

Cross Posting the Cure

2006-12-01T11:54:00.000-05:00

I am cross posting this from Finnegan's Osteosarcoma Ordeal (see Finnegan's Osteosarcoma Ordeal) because it is important to me for obvious reasons!

No silly, not the band, The Cure.

If you will note on the side bar below, there is a pink paw that states "we are the cure". If you click on the paw, you will be directed to We Are the Cure, a website about cancer in animals. The organization provides grants for veterinary researchers and the website has information about different types of cancer. Likewise, you can donate money to the organization to help find a cure for critter cancer (hint hint).

That's my plug since I have a vested interest and all!

Jammin' Out

2006-12-01T09:32:00.000-05:00

Last night, Husband, Friend (her husband was on call), and I went to see Cats a Bear at TRECPI last night. Overall, it was a pleasant experience. We brought some Magic Hat microbrews and sat a table toward the back. Cats a Bear played some fairly traditional pieces and stayed away from jazz fusion. The crowd seemed pretty mellow and steady stream of people grazed at the light hors devoirs table. I appreciated the variety of folks at the event from Penn State Behrend students taking notes to older folks enjoying a bottle of wine and some conversation. My one unusual observation was a Rolls Royce parked in the lot. Odd.

I only have a few complaints about the venue. I felt the tables were set up awkwardly. Because of the table arrangement, I had a difficult time seeing the musicians. I felt that the band appeared to be more background music for a dinner event rather than the main attraction. I would like to see some space next to or by the musicians for some dancing if the mood strikes.

Overall, TREC is a great (and green!) building and I am glad to see it being used in the evening for events like this. TREC would be a great place for quartets, funk bands, and the like to play. I hope other musical events continue throughout the winter.

Here's a Shocker

2006-11-30T16:53:00.000-05:00

You scored as Existentialist. Existentialism emphasizes human capability. There is no greater power interfering with life and thus it is up to us to make things happen. Sometimes considered a negative and depressing world view, your optimism towards human accomplishment is immense. Mankind is condemned to be free and must accept the responsibility.

Existentialist

75%

Modernist

69%

Postmodernist

63%

Cultural Creative

50%

Idealist

50%

Romanticist

50%

Materialist

44%

Fundamentalist

19%

What is Your World View?
created with QuizFarm.com

Jazz

2006-11-30T10:41:00.000-05:00

On a positive note, I am so excited to see some live jazz tonight!!!!

Ugh

2006-11-30T10:19:00.000-05:00

I should have gone to my cult last night. Reason number 473 why smoking in public sucks for non-smokers. I feel like I now have a cold today. My throat is scratchy, my nose is congested, my lungs feel tight, and my sinuses are sore. Poor me. I hate to think about how the bartenders and waitstaff feel every night. Just imagine the buildup of cigarette smoke in their airways each shift they work. Day after day, month after month, year after year. And yes, there are more nonsensical editorials in the paper recently that provide the impetus for writing this post.

Note to self: do not eat the food at that bar/restaurant again! It is the second time I have been sick!

That picture is of a smoker's lungs. Just an illustration of what it could do to workers who are exposed to second hand smoke.

The Big Dilemma

2006-11-29T14:52:00.000-05:00

Go to happy hour to meet my friend's new boyfriend or go to my cult meeting (Curves)? Such decisions.

Hmmm. Maybe I will do both and go to happy hour all sweaty or to the cult half in the bag.

Either option is classy.

My Mind Is Screwed Up

2006-11-28T14:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, as I have learned, is a holiday in the Commonwealth. One, of course, I do not celebrate as a vegetarian. I understand the arguments for hunting deer - population control, etc, etc. HOWEVER, if we did not kill off the natural predators and build up the land, the problem might not be so bad.

The point is my head ain't right. After discussing hunting with our receptionist last night, I dreamed about either hitting a deer or finding one injured (I honestly cannot remember) and carrying around this doe in my arms like a baby. She wasn't kicking or trying to get away. I have no idea what I did with doe. Perhaps I took her to receive veterinary care or something. Nonetheless, when I told some people at lunch about this dream (all of their husbands hunt), they looked at me like I was nuts.

Shocker.

I Joined a Cult

2006-11-28T14:00:00.000-05:00

Okay not really but it kinda sorta feels that way. One of our staff members at our firm gave me a two week free (FREE! I LOVE FREE!) pass to Curves. Last night, I went to answer questions such as: Do you know that exercise can help you lose weight? Seriously? Wow I had absolutely no idea! Gee!

First, it made me worry that some people would not know the answer. Second, the question made me want to run out of there so fast she wouldn't know what happened. But, I stayed and answered other asinine questions about how if you want to lose weight, you cannot go to Country Buffet with your feed bag on and go to town. DAMN! There goes my plan tonight.

The fun part: the weigh-in, measurements, BMI and body fat percentage calculations. Lovely. It's awesome when some skinny young woman is measuring my thighs.

So back to the Cult. For some reason, whenever I go to a place like Curves or Weight Watchers or even to the Happy Chef or whatever it's called, I feel like I am being sucked into a cult. The members seem so enchanted by whatever the leader says. The leaders act as if their plan is the best plan ever and if your/our/whoever's lord and savior Jesus H. Christ came down with a fitness/nutrition plan, he could not do IT BETTER DAMMIT! The leaders are so enthusiastic that I feel like I am some immoral heathen who does not appreciate the magic that is the Point System or the 30 minute exercise regime or the magic cheese shreader (I like my Cuisinart Food Processor, thank you very much!).

Personally, it gives me the creeps. Maybe I just have never been a "joiner". I did not join a sorority in college. Plus, I avoid being associated with any organized religion. I feel like I am being boxed in to some sort of image or norm. It's as if a straight jacket is being tightened around me and I cannot breathe. I know no one is forcing me to join and I won't. When I'm done with my free (FREE!) two weeks, I'll continue running and going to the YMCA (I don't have the same claustrophobic feelings there) and leave the Cult behind.

I DID IT!!!

2006-11-26T17:51:00.000-05:00

It certainly was not anything impressive, I can assure you. I completed my first road race on Thanksgiving morning. My husband kicked ASS. He finished in the top ten of his age group. I, well, finished. HOWEVER, I was not last in my age group. The race was kind of a cluster fuck with runners and walkers mixed together in the 5K. Because of this, it made the start very difficult. I had to dodge and run around lines of walkers. I have absolutely nothing against walkers but it seems like they should line up or start after the runners. Just my opinion from my vast experience in my one and only road race. Another thing I learned: DO NOT DRINK COFFEE BEFORE RUNNING IN A RACE. Now, I have a sensitive stomach anyway. Half way into the race, I felt like I was going to puke. No coffee for me before running in a race. Ugh. Like I said, I finished and I already want to enter another 5K!

Smoking Ban Tirade (with Love)

2006-11-21T10:21:00.000-05:00

This is going to be short. Or not. I am completely sick of the editorials that I'm reading in the paper from people who are against the smoking ban. I have no problem with one voicing an opinion. But please, be relatively informed.

1. You do NOT, I repeat DO NOT have a fundamental right or a constitutional right to smoke in a public place. Period. It does not say that in the constitution. Furthermore, none of the amendments provide a fundamental right to smoke nor has the Supreme Court interpreted the constitution as providing a fundamental right to smoke in public.

2. It is surprising that some make the argument stating: "If it is so bad then the federal government should ban it." As nice as that would be, I am not a 100% that the federal government has that power in the Commerce Clause or Interstate Commerce Clause at this point. Likewise, and I am generalizing here, those who make this type of argument tend to oppose federal government intrusion into their lives. I suppose the federal government through the Supreme Court could ban smoking in public along the same lines as it prohibited hotels from banning people of color. In essence, this is using the interstate Commerce Clause (if I remember correctly). In the end, I support this argument. Let the feds ban smoking in public and then I do not have to worry in any state about my air being polluted.

3. Smoking is NOT the same as drinking alcohol or eating fast foods. This is a little lesson on cause and effect. When you smoke (or breathe), you must exhale the smoke out somewhere (unless you are magic or have some odd respiratory system). You inhale and then, wait for it, you exhale. Unless you are dead, you typically cannot do one without the other. Ergo, inhaling smoke will cause an individual to exhale smoke always, and as far as my limited anatomy and physiology knowledge goes, without exception. HOWEVER, drinking alcohol does NOT always cause one to drive, then drive recklessly, carelessly, or negligently, and then hit another car or person. There is no automatic cause and effect. In other words, you can drink without driving. It is an unfortunate event that sometimes occurs, but not always. Also, eating trans fat does not necessarily affect another person to the same extent or perhaps at all. Yes, it might increase one's health insurance rates because trans fats might cause arteries to block, blood pressure to rise, and cardiac arrests and strokes to ensue thereby causing a bigger burden on insurance companies. This is not the same thing. Again, there is no automatic cause and effect. Say it with me: inhale and exhale. Inhale and exhale. You cannot have one without the other. Thus, one inhales smoke and always exhales smoke.

4. And now, the argument that states: "If you don't want to be around smoke, find a job elsewhere." How selfish can one be? I'm sorry but I think one's ability to earn a livelihood is much more important than one's ability to smoke cigarettes in public. There are a finite number of jobs, especially in our city. To force someone to choose between one's health and one's job is absurd and again, selfish of the smoker.

5. Finally, the slippery slope argument: if you ban smoking, then what next? OH MY GOD WE ARE GOING TO GO RAMPANT AND BAN EVERYTHING!!! AHHHHRRRRR!!!! IT'S A BANNING FREE FOR ALL! YEEEHAAA!. In all seriousness, I generally don't like slippery slope arguments because they tend not to occur. It is illogical that if you ban smoking in public, an activity where one must inhale and exhale secondary smoke (See #3 above), Big Brother will begin banning X, Y, and Z. This is more of a knee jerk reaction to a proposal than a valid argument. Plenty of other laws have been enacted to prohibit a particular activity without creating a slippery slope.

I am positive there are numerous other arguments that have been brought up and I am not addressing them. As one who has resided in and visited different cities with smoking bans, I must say it is delightful to enjoy an evening with friends without being subjected to one's second hand smoke. And if one is worried about bars and restaurants failing, these restaurants and bars were just as packed, if not more so, than before the smoking ban.

The Feline Fashionista

2006-11-19T17:18:00.000-05:00

As usual, I am procrastinating and decided that Shrimpycat, my purdy white odd-eyed kitty, should be crowned the Feline Fashionista. Not that I have any fashion sense whatsoever; however, my white cat, who enjoys spending many hours sitting in a basement window stalking small helpless creatures, does. Actually, she has strong opinions on fashion and decorating:

First, I am disgusted by the 1980's inspired decorating in local houses. On the Howard Hanna real estate show, I note many houses decorated with wallpaper borders (including my house and mom and dad are working tirelessly on removing all hideous wallpaper from our house). YUCK! For my fashion convenience, I ask everyone to rip down these borders and for that matter, all hideous wallpaper and familiarize themselves with a can of paint. AND NO! NOT BEIGE, WHITE, OFF WHITE, OR EGGSHELL! I realize I am white but the love of god, your walls do not need to be so boring.

Second, '80's hair. You know what I mean: mullets, feathered hair (especially men, *gags up hairball*), choppy bangs. Please! Even a "Rachel" haircut from the 1990's would be better (for women not men; for men that would be headbanger hair).

Third, mom jeans. If the waist of your jeans almost reaches your boobs, they are too high.

Fourth, hunting gear. I realize Hunting Season is a state holiday here but there is NO NEED to wear camo, bright orange, or hunting onesies (whatever they are called) in public.

That's enough for now. I must get back to perusing Vogue and hiding my scat in the litter box

Most Cordially,

The Feline Fashionista

A Letter to my Office

2006-11-10T10:50:00.000-05:00

Dear Co-Workers,

I feel the need to write this letter after my "fun" little experience last night. As you are aware, my office is on the "lower level". When I am in my office, my lights are on, the hall lights are on, and the lights going down the stairs are on. Likewise, I tend to blast my music pretty loud after work when I am doing fun and exciting research. Let's put this all together: my office lights are on, the music is on, and here is a tricky one, my car is in the parking lot.

Now here is when it becomes exciting. I finally decided to leave for the evening and guess what? I turned off my lights, the hall lights, and my computer and walked up the stairs to leave. When I entered the lobby, I noted a light on that should be turned off. After walking up to the second floor, walking around to realize no one else was in the building, I headed back down the stairs to leave. I know, this is fascinating reading but I am just so much about suspense. As I stated, I was walking down the stairs and:

WARNING! PLEASE LEAVE THE BUILDING! THE POLICE HAVE BEEN CALLED! PLEASE LEAVE THE BUILDING IMMEDIATELY!

This ever-so-loud announcement with the blaring of the alarm nearly led me to fall down the stairs. After I shoved my heart back into it's correct location, I ran to the alarm and quickly put in the code while shouting numerous expletives at whoever turned the alarm on WHILE I WAS IN THE BUILDING.

Of course, I could not immediately leave. I had to wait for the security service to call to make sure "everything is all right". I assured her I was supposed to be there, someone thought it would be a totally awesome idea to turn the burglary alarm on while I was still in the building, and no, there was no need to send the entire police force to investigate.

Here's a lesson: please please make sure to check that you are indeed the last person to leave the building. I can just imagine, based on my lifelong klutzy experience, that the alarm could have scared me so much that I could have fallen down the stairs, been knocked unconscious, and had our city's finest surrounding me with guns aimed at yours truly.

Sincerely,

The Lower Level Inhabitant

I Heart Democrats

2006-11-08T11:03:00.000-05:00

Awwww...the sweet taste of VICTORY! Beh bye Santorum! Don't let the door hit you on the ass on your way out! Next race, let's find a stronger democratic candidate go against Phil English, m'kay? With barely any money and support, it seems that Porter gave Big Phil a run for his money. Perhaps Mr. Stinny can run...

And to my *real* home, the Green Mountain State:

GO BERNIE! Any politician who does not mind being referred to as BERNIE!, can be seen on Church Street meeting with his constituents, and who is not afraid to be called an independent is a hero in my book.

GOOD JOB OHIO! Two democrats! Nice work this time!

DO NOT SCREW WITH MY BUSHES!

2006-11-06T10:20:00.000-05:00

Fine, that title can be taken in several ways both perverse (um, you know) and perverse (as in the so-called president). BUT, it is not in reference to either. We have tall bushes along the boundary line of our neighbor's yard. They are clearly on our property. Overall, this neighbor is very nice (with the exception of the very very loud fights between neighbor's daughter and derelict boyfriend at 2 a.m.). She is always obsessively and compulsively working on her yard. I'll give her credit, it does look nice (with the exception of the Virgin Mary and Jesus statues). However, her obsessive compulsiveness HAS CROSSED THE LINE.

We did a lot of trimming of our shrubbery this summer, including the bushes along the property line. Due to Finnegan's cancer treatment and my spectacular fracture, we could not keep up with the yard as much as we would like. Our yard does look acceptable. It is not overgrown, there are not many weeds, and we have not been cited by the city like some people I will not mention who live across the street from us and who are not familiar with this fancy new invention called the lawn mower. That is besides the point. One day, my husband noticed that OCD neighbor or her semi-derelict son (who is all chatty-Cathy when my husband and I are outside doing yard work)* had not cut but BUTCHERED our bushes by lobbing off any branch that DARED CROSS OVER THE FENCE and dropped the offending branches on our side of the fence on or within the bushes. It looked horrible because she/he did not just trim, she/he cut way back about a foot over on our side of the property. From what I understand, one can legally trim his/her neighbor's tree or shrubbery which encroaches on one's property so long as it does not cause damage to the tree or shrubbery.

Here's the problem: besides making the tree look hideous, it made the bushes tip all the way over, almost to the ground when we had our lovely snow storm. You see, trees and shrubbery grow in a very balanced, perhaps zen-like, manner. Ommmm. When you trim one side, you need to trim the other side equally. By massacring the bushes, it caused some serious damage. Hopefully, we can salvage the bushes by trimming off some of the branches on our side.

Long story short: DO NOT TOUCH MY SHRUBBERY!

*Note: generally, we are not all chatty with people we barely know even if they live next to us. Just because we live next to you, doesn't mean we want to talk to you every time we step out of our front door.

Name Dropping

2006-11-06T10:14:00.000-05:00

Pedicure with friend: $40.00 plus $10.00 tip

Shopping at Marshall's and T.J. Maxx for things I absolutely positively DO NOT NEED: $100.00

Going to a packed restaurant without reservations , being told they are not sure if they have a table for two, and then introducing myself and dropping a name thereby getting a great table for two: Priceless.

Yes, my friends, I will stoop to those levels.

Is Hugging a Stranger So Wrong?

2006-11-03T15:12:00.000-05:00

I got the best news today!!! Finnegan, my Irish Wolfhound, is CANCER FREE!!!!

When the veterinary technician came out and told me that the radiologist and internist looked at his chest x-ray and saw no cancer, I almost jumped up and hugged her. Me. A person who generally does not like strangers within five feet of me.

The celebration begins tonight....

Where's my Tinfoil Hat?

2006-11-02T16:58:00.000-05:00

Today I had yet another physical therapy appointment for my defective wrist and it was quite strange. My lovely and talented physical therapist tried something new for said defective wrist. Basically, it was this weird electric impulse thingy (Yes! That is the technical term, dammit!) that put acidic acid (huh?) into my wrist joint through my hair follicles or something of that nature. When the sticky pad with acidic acid (?) came off, I had little pumps where the stuff was heading in my body through my hair follicles. Is it me or do I sound like a crazy person now because that makes nooooooo sense to me. Maybe I was actually getting electroshock therapy. I better wear my tin foil hat to keep the voices out.

Run Stinny Run!

2006-10-30T17:13:00.000-05:00

Oh...my...god....look at her butt. Okay, I won't go there and I know it's cheesy but that song makes me laugh. Sorry. And it's so appropriate for me now that I'm training for a 5K race on Thanksgiving! After running three miles yesterday, I can definitely tell you that junk in my trunk definitely slows a gal down. Actually, I felt pretty good but I know if I'm going to move up to a 10K, I need to be a little more, ahem, careful with what I consume/shovel into my mouth during the day.

Enough about my ass. For the first time in my life, I...like...running. For those who know me, it's a shocker, I know. I was the goalkeeper for the women's lacrosse team so I wouldn't have to run too much. Pretty pathetic. Every time I would try to pick up running, I would give it up because I was bored, lazy, or something shiny distracted me. Maybe it's my maturity (HA!) or my new found wisdom, but now I really, truly, honestly enjoy running. It's the sense of accomplishment and the zen feeling. Perhaps, it's the endorphins. Whatever it is, I like it.

So Sudden

2006-10-29T18:00:00.000-05:00

Life can move too fast and change in a flash. On the way home from doing some work at the university with my husband, a light blue older pick up truck flew past us in the other lane and crashed into the jersey barrier. We could see smoke billowing out and a man having a seizure and then not moving in the passenger seat. Immediately, we stopped. So did others. I pulled my cell out of my purse and shoved it at my husband to call 911. Without thinking, I jumped out of the car and ran over to the unconscious man to see what little help I could provide. So did others. One man was brave enough and turned the car off as the smoke poured out from the engine. Thankfully, the billowing ceased. Another man tried to wake the man with no avail. Three of us jumped over the barrier and ran to the passenger side to try to revive him. Because he smoke had been surrounding him, he appeared to have difficulty breathing. Someone opened the door and another shouted not to move him. Thankfully, he was breathing, but out cold. While someone tried to take his pulse, I searched in the glove compartment with the hope of learning his name. He is Vincent. A man in his late forties to mid-fifties with a beard and glasses who layed in his car but now not alone. We could see him breathing so I took his hand and repeated his name, trying carefully to wake him. We stood there and waited for what seemed like an eternity for an ambulance to arrive. Finally, he awoke suddenly and we could see the fear in his eyes. I thought, in my usual sarcastic and perhaps moderately dark way, great, I am the first person he sees and I scare the crap out of him. I told him he was okay and help was coming. In shock or perhaps in a haze after an apparent seizure, he did not respond. We heard the sirens in the distance and a fire truck quickly arrived. I stepped away and let the firemen help Vincent. After speaking with a woman who had witnessed the entire accident, I left with my husband, safe.

Vincent, I hope you are okay.

Must...Stop...Reading...

2006-10-28T09:58:00.000-05:00

I completely and utterly hate it when I cannot finish a book because the story is so dreadful I WOULD RATHER VOMIT IN MY MOUTH!! Usually, I don't have this type of reaction but oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I simply cannot get through Lolly Winston's new book, Happiness Sold Separately. Happiness is certainly not sold with this book. All of the characters make me want to bitch slap them. I enjoyed her first book, Good Grief. It was a fairly light and very quick read on a rainy Saturday afternoon, and certainly nothing mind boggling or philosphical. This book, however, is painful, like dragging nails on a black board or squeaking Styrofoam. For the love of Mr. Stinny, I can't read without having something in the book making my mind wander so far away it needs a passport to return. For example, the word "lawyer" made me think, I need to make sure I say this at the hearing on Monday, and this brain detour went on for a good ten to fifteen minutes. Then the character, Ted, made me ponder, I wonder how my brother is and man, what on earth am I going to get him for Christmas? Ted, if you are out there, give me a hint, m'kay?

I really feel bad when I lose the willpower to finish a book. I love reading and books and libraries and book stores. I am trying so very very hard to continue the book BUT I HAVE 296 PAGES LEFT AND I MIGHT GO STARK RAVING MAAAADDDDDDDDD IF I CONTINUE! The characters are not sympathetic and the story line is entirely too predictable. So on that note, on my way to do errands, Ms. Winston's book shall return to the library. I surrender.

Blasphemous Friends Forever

2006-10-26T15:37:00.000-05:00

I love Love LOVE Threadless t-shirts from www.threadless.com. They allow me to move away from my daily "professional" appearance and dress like the smartass I really am. Once I wore this pandemonium shirt to a "young professionals" event and no one introduced themselves to me (or my friend - she was dressed more "professional" than I) except for a cool looking person at the bar unrelated to the event. I think it was the shirt but maybe it was my scowl on my face that was not so warm and inviting (hey, i'm from the northeast, i can't help it - i'm not friendly to strangers).

In the spirit of offending the middle of the road general public, I bought my husband and me the B.F.F. t-shirt. It is AWESOME. I think the husband and I should getting matching sweat suits too and wear the ensemble around town.

Leave Me ALONE

2006-10-25T07:52:00.000-05:00

The last few weeks after work, I get home and find a message or two on my answering machine. At first, this was quite exciting because I typically get phone calls on my cell and not my home phone. I think: I wonder who could be calling me at home! A long lost friend who looked me up? Publisher's Clearing House? No such luck. Lately, it's been what sounds like a prerecorded or canned message telling me how important it is to vote on election day to throw the bums out of Washington and to thwart Bush's evil plan to send the country down the shitter. I appreciate their efforts. The problem is I AM SICK OF GETTING THE SAME MESSAGE EVERY DAY TO VOTE FOR BOB CASEY OR ED RENDELL.

So this morning, I had an idea. Yes, a rare ocassion. How about I leave an outgoing message that states:

You have reached Mr. and Mrs. Slave to Mister Stinny. We are unable to answer our phone right now. If you are calling from the Democratic Party, please rest assured that we are voting and we PROMISE to vote for all the democrats about who you are calling. You don't need to call anymore because you are getting my hopes up that it is someone much more interesting and I swear to Mr. Stinny we...will...vote...democrat. If you are calling about a republican candidate, please hang up immediately and put yourself in a corner. There is no way in hell we are voting for a former football player or a right wing nutjob. You should be ashamed of yourself. Have a nice day.

The Anal Retentive Kitty

2006-10-24T18:24:00.000-05:00

I now have to accept that if our cats were actually my husband and my offspring, Mr. Stinny would be the EXACT GENETIC OFFSPRING OF MY HUSBAND!!!! When I left Mr. Stinny this morning, he had his black and yellow bee toy (his most favorite very bestest toy!) in our bed with him. When I say in our bed, I mean tucked in, under the covers, with his head on my pillow. If he wasn't blind, he would probably use my sleep mask.

As I said, when I left Mr. Stinny, he was asleep in bed with his toy. After work I went into my room to promptly change out of my work clothes and what did I find? His toys, neatly placed perfectly parallel to each other and perfectly perpendicular to the line around the rug.

My husband is VERY neat. His desk at work is EXTREMELY organized with every thing perfectly organized in their specific place. I just LOVE moving things around in his desk. As a complete slob, it's very very very satisfying. And, as you can see, here is an example of my shoes slightly in disarray. Mr. Stinny is the anal retentive kitty. Like father like son.

Stupid Stupid Flashbacks

2006-10-23T13:39:00.000-05:00

I just had a fairly humorous flashback to first year of law school. A group of women, about 5 of us, bid at an auction to have dessert with our torts professor. At the time (after many many many mixed drinks), it sounded like a great idea. So we forked out the cash (way too much) and set a date for Professor to come to one of our apartment's with dessert.

As one could imagine, this was an incredibly awkward and bizarre evening. First, although this woman was gracious enough to host this event and she is a very nice person, this woman had Japanese animation posters throughout her living room. One of my friends could not help laughing and kept calling them Pokeman posters. Hostess was adamant on insisting these were not Pokeman characters but were Japanese anime or whatever. Not nice, I know, but it sets the scene. Second, the dessert was called Better than Sex Chocolate Dessert or some such nonsense made by a male professor much much older than us. Third, five female law students did not have as much to talk about with this senior law professor as we originally thought. After asking questions about the future exam and the course, we ran out of topics of discussion.

So what do I do in a moment of silence: I blurt out: "You know, when email first came out, I didn't think it would catch on."

Way to go, genius, way to go.

I Heart Missionaries

2006-10-19T14:05:00.000-05:00

No, I don't mean missionary style.

Yesterday, I think I saw two missionaries with their backpacks, dark jackets, slacks and ties from Sears or JcPenneys and name tags walking down the street. I was on my cell phone and I squealed with delight into my friend's ear. Could I actually miss Utah when for the first year and a half of living there I could not wait another second to leave?

Yes, this the place (literally) where I had a horrendous nervous breakdown and could barely leave the house, let alone get out of bed. However, it is also the same place with the beautiful mountains, amazing national parks, and the incredibly cool and interesting people who I met and continue to miss.

Fumigation?

2006-10-18T09:17:00.000-05:00

Not only is my office in the basement (otherwise know as the "lower level"), they are now trying to off me with car exhaust. Great. I take the hint.

Boot Skootin' Boogie

2006-10-17T09:59:00.000-05:00

What's funnier than me attempting to line dance with a group of strangers at a country western bar out by I-90? Not much else. Beyond that, I was the only one sans cowboy boots or boots of some form. Apparently, grey and pink Chuck All-Stars don't cut it and make for dangerous conditions on a saw dusted floor.

Can I get a "GIT ER DUN!"?

Boss' Day?

2006-10-16T14:57:00.000-05:00

Apparently, today is "boss' day" or "boss' appreciation day". Isn't boss' day pretty much every day? I mean, seriously: don't we have to act like we appreciate our bosses every day and kiss their asses? Now we need to go out and spend our hard earned cash on at Hallmark telling our boss what a rad superior they are? Sure...I'm right on it...

Only My Folks

2006-10-14T15:29:00.000-05:00

Only two New Englanders, specifically Vermonters, more specifically my parents, would name the new tree in their front yard "Homer". Of course, my father wakes up early to feed the crows and the grey squirrels and the red squirrels and whatever other wildlife wanders on to the property.

And I wonder why I am the way I am.

Then There Were Three

2006-10-14T11:36:00.000-05:00

Here pictures pre- and post-amputation. One picture is of just his front two legs. The other is him now. I think he looks pretty fantastic.

Puddle o' Mud

2006-10-13T12:21:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning, after it rained-make that POURED-the previous day, Finnegan decided it would be an absolutely outstanding idea to lounge in a nice big mud puddle on the morning we were to bring him for his next to last chemotherapy appointment. Although I have spent thousands of dollars on medical care, I feed him, care for him, play with him, etc., I always have this paranoid feeling the people at the veterinary hospital are going to think I neglect him or I'm a horrid dog parent. I envision a confrontation going something like this:

"Oh, Slave to Mr. Stinny, do you leave him outside all the time in the freezing cold and rain in a very confined space so Finnegan's only option is to sleep in a mud puddle?"

"Why yes, I do let him sleep outside in the freezing rain and mud. Even though I have spent thousands of dollars in medical bills, drive 3 hours round trip every three weeks, rehabilitate him, medicate him, bathe him, brush him, play with him, and love him to death, I thought that it would be a totally awesome idea to have him catch pneumonia by leaving him out in the bitter cold in a mud pit."

"That's what we thought. We also think his toe nails are 2 mm too long so we cut them for you. Has anyone ever told you what a dreadful horrible dog parent you are?"

"Ummm no. Anything else?"

"Yes, we have put you on America's Worst Dog Parents list."

"That's what I thought. I'll be back again in three weeks to feel bad about myself."

"Have a fantastic day!"

No, it did not go that way. I washed (in my work clothes no less) and dried him off. They were very nice when I brought him to the clinic. I think my paranoia just gets the best of me. As usual...

Things they are a changin'

2006-10-11T12:29:00.000-05:00

If anyone actually does read this blog, one will note that I have not written much of anything in a long time. Partly because the past four months have not gone well. My darling Irish Wolfhound was diagnosed with bone cancer in July and we have been struggling with his amputation, rehabilitation, chemotherapy, and enormous veterinary bills that accompany this treatment. Finnegan is an amazing creature with so much love and courage; it was heartbreaking to watch him struggle to a normal existence. He is now stronger and healthier with the same heart and soul he always had.

Next, I managed to completely wipe out on my bicycle and caused some pretty serious injuries. After Spousal Unit got a flat tire, I volunteered to bike home and get the car. In my rush to get home, I tried to go up on the sidewalk via a driveway, lost control of my bicycle and completely wiped out. I fractured AND dislocated my right wrist (and yes, I am right-handed), scraped a few too many layers off my knee, and scraped up my left arm. Because I was alone, I tried to flag down a car because my wrist was bent in a position not so anatomically correct and blood was gushing from my knee. As I elevated my wrist and sat in the driveway of the school, I attempted to wave someone to stop. Mind you, this was a Sunday around 12:30 in the afternoon, and well over twenty people passed and looked at me without stopping to offer a cell phone. This is at noon. After church. Seriously. No one offered to help? Finally, a nice young woman named, Wendy, stopped her pick up truck, threw my bike in the back and turned around to pick up the Spousal Unit before bringing us home, clear on the other side of town.

Spousal Unit and I went to the emergency room where I was quickly evaluated, x-rayed, and told: "you don't need a medical degree to see this is just wrong". The orthopods arrived and told me they would need to put my wrist back into position. After a very painful numbing injection (hematoma block?) where I believe I screamed "JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH!", he tried to manually pop my wrist into the correct position. Because it was so out of wack, he brought in a medieval torture devise to fix the problem. It looked like one of those Chinese finger puzzles. He stuck my fingers in the contraption and then tied my arm to the bed so it could do it's thing. Once that was through, he put the most gigantic splint on my arm and sent me home with some narcotics for the pain. Oddly enough, at the time of the accident, my wrist did not cause me any pain.

I spent a week in gigantor the splint and then saw an orthopedist who scheduled me for surgery three days later. I was given a sheet of paper telling me to go to the outpatient surgery unit at 8:00. On Monday, we were getting ready when I received a call from the surgery unit asking me if I still planned on having surgery and that I was late! Huh? We frantically gathered our stuff and rushed to the surgery center where I checked in and apologized profusely for the confusion. No one really seemed to care and everyone was quite kind. My biggest scare was that they had my go in the back and change yet I had not said "goodbye" or anything to my Spousal Unit. Due to my overactive imagination, my propensity for being a hypochondriac, and my typical elevated anxiety level, I was convinced I would die during surgery and never see Spousal Unit again. I begged them to send him back, which they did, and he stayed until I was wheeled to the surgery unit on a very nice valium induced state. Before leaving, he gave me the biggest kiss making me feel all warm inside.

After surgery, I woke up in a HUGE amount of pain. The recovery nurse said because I kept falling back asleep, she could not give me pain meds until I was completely awake. After one or two injections and a couple of pills, I started feeling much better. Plus, I was given tasty Lorna Doone cookies and grape juice. Spousal Unit was brought back to me and sat with me while the pain subsided a bit more and I ate 5 packages of cookies and 3 bottles of grape juice. Finally, I was brought home and rented two movies to entertain me for the afternoon. The drugs made me forget which movies I watched. Whoops.

I returned to the doctor's office the next day for a post-surgery follow-up. When the nurse took my splint off, it looked like I had the "man hand" from Seinfeld. Seriously. My hand was HUGE. The nurse explained I would have to return to the office the following Tuesday for another x-ray and placement of a cast. That's all fine and good but...I was supposed to be in Vermont for preparation of my parents' 50th wedding anniversary party. The nurse spoke to the doctor who said if I can get the swelling down, it was NO problem. I could get the cast on before I left. Well, let me tell you (whoever you are) that I iced the sh*t out of my wrist and elevated it so I would not have to leave the beginning of my vacation in Lake Placid to return to home for a new cast. In fact, I looked like a barricaded myself behind my desk at work with a big pile of pillows! It worked, thank god and I got the cast on, went on my vacation and had a blast with my family at my parents' party. Now, I have been in a splint, back in bivalve(???) cast, and now in physical therapy. October 24th, I go back to the orthopod for another x-ray.

That's enough for now.

Why staying inside is better!

2006-07-21T10:30:00.001-05:00

Human mum broke her wrist OUTSIDE while riding her bicycle.
I was hit by a car, blinded, and seriously f'ed up OUTSIDE.
Biggy D was hit by a car and broke his pelvis many moons ago while OUTSIDE.
Shrimpycat was abandoned as a kitten in the woods OUTSIDE.
Lilly was violated before joining our family by a humungous Tom cat (TomKat too - hahaha- that would be wicked scary) again, let's say it together, OUTSIDE.

Mr. Stinny logic: Outside leads to bad bad things; ergo, stay the F inside!

Those Crazy Catholics

2006-06-16T11:07:00.000-05:00

One of human mom's mother's friends (I love those sort of descriptions) learned of my friend, Finny's osteosarcoma problems and sent holy water to put on him. I will fully grant the thought was incredibly sweet but as someone who is not catholic and is not a fan of religion in general (except the Most Holy Church of Mr. Stinny) the prospect of writing a thank you letter was just fabulous. (Human mom was brought up catholic but does not believe in it anymore although she does respect others right to believe.) As human uncle pointed out to human mom, I mean really, how many times do you get to write a thank you letter for holy water!!!! Here is a potential draft (of course, a nice grateful and polite letter was actually sent but we are not grateful and polite here in mr. stinny land):

Dear __________
Thank you very much for thinking of Finnegan and me. I was pleasantly surprised to find a small plastic bottle with Holy Water inscribed in it. Because I have not been to church in many many years, I am not fully familiar with what one does with holy water. Do I squirt it in his face and yell "SON! YOU ARE SAVED!"? Is speaking in tongues and rolling around on the ground advised? (that would be awesome!) I intend to watch as many evangelical shows as possible this weekend for guidance in the use of HOLY WATER! (it can also be used as an expletive instead of HOLY SHIT!). Anyway, thank you for your thoughts and prayers even though Finnegan, ___ and I don't believe in that stuff. By the way, I squirted on it and he still was diagnosed with cancer. What now?

Very Truly Yours,

Finnegan's Bad News

2006-06-13T12:20:00.000-05:00

Unfortunately, Finnegan was diagnosed with osteosarcoma of his left front radius. He will be documenting his progress in a blog:

http://irishwolfie-osteo-ordeal.blogspot.com/

Think good thoughts for the buddy.

Finny is Famous

2006-06-12T15:27:00.000-05:00

Finnegan, the world's biggest freakin' dog, is famous: http://www.dogster.com/ They used his picture for Breed of the Week. Hell yeah!

Plus, it's his birthday.

Happy Birthday, Big Buddy!

Katie Couric

2006-05-31T12:56:00.000-05:00

What the HELL? Why was I not invited to Katie Couric's farewell show? DAMMIT I'm her most favorite bestest fan. Screw that little girl! I am a blind cat for christ's sake! How adorable would it be for Katie Couric to be holding me in front of those cameras? DON'T ANSWER THAT! It's a freakin' rhetorical question! Just because I become terrified when I go outside and would likely pee if not poo on her in front of a bazillion people DOES NOT MEAN IT WOULD NOT BE A PRECIOUS MOMENT!

Are we at war with Mexico yet?

2006-05-16T14:52:00.000-05:00

As a cat from a foreign country (Utah) and human parents from the socialist countries of Vermont and Massachusetts, I am concerned about the approach el presidente is taking against immigrants. We are at war with the concept of terrorism (my furry mind still hasn't wrapped my head around that one), Iraq, kinda sorta Afghanistan, and half threatening Iran. And now he is after Mexico?

DAMN! I'm all over the Posse Comitatus thing. Let's go after Canada and Alaska! Wait...no. YEEEHAAA!!!!!!!!!! Sign me up!

As you can see (I can't dammit), I am a very confused kitty...

They are at it AGAIN!

2006-05-11T08:15:00.000-05:00

DAMN! I thought I was safe. The NSA or National Security Folks or Big Brother (you pick) are TRACKING MY PHONE CONVERSATIONS! Lately I have put Biggy D in charge of my phone campaign to get The Church of Mr. Stin followers to contribute chicken. Now it means Big Brother will know who the followers of my cult are . Whoops! I meant church. Plus, for some reason, many of my followers are in Communist Vermont so of course I'm on their radar. That means they will be especially interested in me. It's not like I am trying to overthrow the federal government. I just plan on taking over some local churches to spread my message of chicken and naps and TURN OFF THOSE DAMN BELLS. A cat can't get a nap around here without being woken up by church bells tolling versions of Britney Spears songs.

So my friends, I am disconnecting my phone, halting my phone campaign, and, again, hiding under the covers so Big Brother can't git me.

Finnegan's Great Freakin' Adventure

2006-05-08T09:33:00.000-05:00

Finnegan thought it would be fun to go on a little solo adventure this morning. Human mummy and daddy did a lot of yard work this weekend and daddy must have not fully locked the gate in the back. Anyway, when mummy went out to get Finny, he was gone and no where to be found. Mummy called and called and he didn't come. Human mum and dad took separate cars and when mum asked some people if they had seen him, they said yes and directed her to him. A woman was just grabbing him when human mummy pulled up.

Here's the deal. Blah blah blah, we are all glad he is back safe and sound. As the Great and Mighty Cat, Sir Stins A Lot, I wonder: why did he only go a couple blocks away from home? Why didn't he head down to the local tavern and grab himself some Guinesses? He is Irish after all. Plus, there is always some drunk down there at 8am on a monday morning. No, the goofball was trotting along some random street block doing what...sniffing the freakin' daisies? Taking a humungous poo on someone else's yard? That would be a nice gift to come home to. Dogs are so damn weird, man! If I somehow regained my sight, I would head straight to the meat market and get myself some whole raw chickens to devour. Then I would convert the local catholic church into the church of mr. stin and turn off those GOD DAMN BELLS THAT GO OFF ALL FREAKIN' SUNDAY!!!! Then I could have my sermons in public and my followers would be able to make offerings of juicy meat all day long. AND they could witness the glory that is Mr. Stin...Mehmow!

Mr. Stin's Anthem

2006-05-01T10:03:00.000-05:00

As a cat, my only affiliation to some sort of nationality is to the country of Feed Me More Chicken. Therefore, I don't truly understand the hoopla over singing the anthem in whatever other language one speaks. It seems Bushman does not approve for some reason but I bet you five cans of tuna he doesn't even know the English words, let alone how to pronounce them.
I have decided to make my own anthem for the Church of Mr. Stin:

Oh say I can't see, by my furry grey bum,
I like to eat chicken and tuna, and chase my bumble bee toy,
Because it is so freakin' fun.
Who has orange stripes and polydactyl paws?
It's Donald the-ah psy-cho-tic cat;
Oh Donald, you are my bicurious frie-end;
Meh mow mow, MEH MOW MOW MOW!
I am the leader of the Church of Mr. Stin
So-oh give me some chicky treats.

Okay, so I can't write lyrics to save my life but what the hell, I need my own damn version too.

A Big Freakin' Wall?

2006-04-07T10:24:00.000-05:00

As a cat who doesn't go outside, I am unfamiliar with this whole "fence" concept. Basically, the gubberment's idea to keep out the scary illegal aliens who do the crappy ass jobs that no one else wants to do is to put a big ass wall along the border. Ooohhhh Ahhhhh. How clever. Let's be even more xenophobic than we already are. Better yet, let's put a fence around Canadia so we can keep those strange "aboot" and "eh" people out too. How dare they come down here and buy souvenirs!? I will be hiding under the bed now so none of those border patrol agents will git me since I am from the country of Utah and all.

Irish Wolfhound

2006-03-30T13:39:00.000-05:00

Here are a few things I would really like to say when I am walking my Irish Wolfhound and people approach me.

1. No he's not a god damn pony.
2. No, I do not put a f'in saddle on him.
3. He eats 6 cups of food a day, considering he weighs 160 pounds, that doesn't seem so bad.
4. I cannot believe you are asking me about my dog's defecation habits. Gross.
5. Yes, he lives inside; he does not live in a stall.
6. Actually, he does bite. I think it's so much fun to try to control a 160 pound viscous dog in public. No liability there!

There are many many many other absurd comments people enjoy making when I walk Finnegan that I can't think of right now. I know I sound bitchy (shocker), but those of you who own giant breed dogs or unusual breeds will understand.

Teachings Against the Church of Mr. Stin...

2006-03-07T14:55:00.000-05:00

Hee hee hee. Thanks human friend, Jen. The Onion has done it again:

http://www.theonion.com/content/node/45814

FYI - Cats and Jesus do not go together. Especially when it involves dunking said cat in a bathtub. Some blood might be shed...

Here is why my human's life is weird and I like being a cat

2006-03-07T09:12:00.000-05:00

As told to me by my human mom:

"As I was driving to work, I saw an older baby blue hearse passing by with an older man driving and a very large stuffed animal in the passenger seat. When I pulled in behind the hearse, I saw the license plate said "Clem" which is my dad's name. "

And the Oscar Goes to...

2006-03-06T09:18:00.000-05:00

I am a bit torn with the Best Picture winner. Although Crash was an excellent movie, I still prefer Brokeback Mountain for personal cat reasons. I think if the movie incorporated Biggy D and my love story, it would have totally swept the Oscars.

I think Donald's rough and psychotic portrayal of Ennis would have been touching with his random hissing and sudden need to groom me incessantly. His tail chasing and killing the sheep would move any person who has ever been in love.

Hell, maybe I could win for my portrayal of Jack. Considering the "maverick" movie year, the Academy would be all over choosing a blind cat as best supporting actor. Even if I would get scared on the set and hide in a corner for three-quarters of the movie.

I can only dream...

Vote 2008 - Seniore Presidente Stinman

2006-02-27T14:14:00.000-05:00

Hmmm. Right now, 30% of the country is "not ready" for a female president. That sucks.

I wonder how they would feel about a blind, male, bicurious, neutered, indoor only cat with anxiety issues?

I bet the red states would be all over that sh-t...

My Campaign Picture - me surrounded by books I can't read.

Mental Health Update

2006-02-25T16:11:00.000-05:00

Phew! Starting to feel a little bit back to Stin normal. Note to self: no Kitty Prozac. Self medicate with shots of whisky.
Currently, I am in the litter box contemplating life. Ahhhhhhhhh.....

Bleck...Kitty Prozac

2006-02-24T14:03:00.000-05:00

Meh mow. I'm not feeling so well "emotionally."

I am feeling a bit nervous and unsettled (that happens when you are blind and something funky happens to you). Anyway, so Mom got me some kitty Prozac (Clomicalm) to help alleviate my "nervousness". She doesn't know what happened and I am keeping it a secret.

Kitty Prozac didn't work out too well because I'm not feeling quite right. I went from purry, affectionate, and nervous to nervous, nervous, and upset. Hopefully nothing too signficant but I'm going to the vet today.

Think good kittty thoughts for me.

BANG! BANG!

2006-02-13T15:29:00.000-05:00

Damn...if Cheney gets to carry a gun, I should too.
[Note to self: don't sneak up on Cheney. Yikes!]

Just think of all the persuading I could do with a gun! My human non-biological parental units would have to give me an entire raw chicken whenver I demand it. I could blow the door off their bedroom when they lock me out at 5:30 in the morning when I INSIST on being fed.

Or better yet, I could shoot a lawyer, whoops, I mean a quail (maybe a Dan Quayle?) just like Cheney. BANG!

Finally...Brokeback Mountain

2006-02-07T13:23:00.000-05:00

Yes, I (through my human counterpart) did see the movie and it was amazing. I cannot stop thinking about it, although at times I wish I could stop.

Here is my problem, as a bicurious cat, what is with these wackjobs who refuse to see the movie because of some ass-backwards beliefs?

Ooooo, I can't watch this movie because my faith forbids the endorsement of this "perverse lifestyle" or perversion or "moral turpitude" or sickness (add your close-minded descriptor of your choice). ECK! It makes me want to hack up a hairball!

What's perverse and immoral are dumbasses who cannot appreciate love, passion, and all the good things that goes along with it just because it doesn't fit their f'in close minded viewpoint. Give it up! Maybe I'm being close minded (I can...I'm a cat). I don't advocate forcing those who don't want to watch the movie to go see it (although it would be pretty funny). Instead, how about appreciating there are different types of love and attraction (bicurious cat attraction ROCKS!) and have some acceptance.

Enough preaching from my litter box. I'm going to get me some bicurious Biggy D lovin'.

Yours truly,

The most reverend Mr. Stinny

2006-01-19T14:08:00.000-05:00

7 Things I Plan to do Someday
1. Have the Church of Mr. Stin be the most popular church in the world
2. Eat an entire chicken
3. See if Chief Justice Robert’s hair reallly moves
4. Marry Biggy D
5. Take a 19 hour nap
6. Eat an entire chicken
7. Learn to toot on command

7 Things I Can do
1. Eat
2. Sleep
3. Poop
4. Meow
5. Kill bugs
6. Eat rodents
7. Rule the world

7 Things I Cannot do
1. I can’t thee athhole, I’m blind, god damn it!
2. Marry Biggy D
3. Understand Chief Justice Roberts’ hair
4. Go outside – that sh*t freaks me out
5. Willingly go into a cat carrier
6. Kitty fart on command…yet
7. Jump on the counter (see 1)

7 Things that Attract me to Another Cat
1. Fur
2. Willingness to groom me non-stop
3. Ability to hunt
4. Wrestling ability
5. Polydactyl (extra digits)
6. Willingness to share leftovers
7. Outstanding, perhaps borderline obsessive, grooming habits

Hello Mr. Finnegan

2006-01-19T14:02:00.000-05:00

I realize this site is of the feline persuasion but I thought I should introduce you to my friend, Finnegan. He's an Irish Wolfhound. He also is "sight impaired" but not blind. He's not very bright but he's a wicked nice fella. So there.

Errrr...Sorry...Another "I wish I knew how to quit you"

2006-01-16T16:46:00.000-05:00

As some of you are aware, Biggy B and I are in a bi-curious relationship. We think Brokeback Mountain could be modified to include our story. Seriously, we are two neutered male cats in a relationship in a world that just doesn't understand us. We are expected to be at the beck and call of our female kitty counterparts every time they shriek in heat. Society expects us to act all tough and fight with whatever tom cat comes around. That ain't right. In reality, we just want to snuggle together for an evening of grooming.
Plus, we are in the Northwest corner of PA where they won't even show the damn movie. Someday, Biggy B and I will live in a world where our feline bi-curious love is accepted.

Putting the Stin back in Stinmas

2005-12-20T14:59:00.000-05:00

Here's the deal. I am starting a movement to put the "Stin" back in Stinmas. I think it's time to think about what this holiday is really means:

Batting at holiday ornaments (that's right HOLIDAY, you right wing nutjobs);
Sleeping out the catnip hangover under the tree (note the Holstein-like animal under the tree, yes it's a cat, my cousin, Bode); and
Puking up tinsel, hairballs, and bits of dead mice in the middle of family celebrations.

Remember my child, WWMSD (What would Mr. Stinny do?)

Amen and a meh mow.

Crap...They're spying on me

2005-12-18T10:54:00.000-05:00

The Church of Mr. Stin is wicked disturbed. The Bush administration has been following my communications between me and my followers. They're probably reading this blog right now!!!! Ahhhhh! What's going to happen?

Are they going to barge into my house and stop Biggy D and me in the midst of a bi-curious moment?
Will they confiscate our happy catnip?
Take away Shrimpy's mouse hunting license?
Will they consider the Church of Mr. Stin a cult which is defying their right wing family values and confiscate our membership list?!!!????

I will be hiding under the covers for a while in case they make a sting...

Tookie

2005-12-12T17:35:00.000-05:00

Holy crap! Da Shwarzenegger is not giving Tookie clemency. He's going to kill Tookie just by glaring at him! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mmm Good Huntin'

2005-11-29T11:14:00.000-05:00

Shrimpy caught a super tasty mouse last night which I ate. Unfortunately I then puked it back up in my parents' bedroom at approximately 3:30 am. You could see its fur and heart and everything. What a f'in waste...

Huntin'

2005-11-28T20:03:00.000-05:00

Yes, I've been a slackin' but b/c I can't type and mom now "works" or some BS like that so I haven't had the time to comment.

Well, today is the FIRST day of huntin' here in my state and I am PSYCHED! Being a cat and being I love meat, this sounds like a special national holiday that everyone should celebrate. Shrimpy, the cat who could use a little Ritalin, began her celebration by capturing 2 mice. Of course, mom rescued them and set them free. Dumbass. The 2 mice are probably one in the same.

Anyway, I decided to go out and get my very own huntin' license and engage in some huntin'. Well what do you know, I went to the special get yer own hunting license office and I was denied. They said: "Oh, you're a cat, you don't need no huntin' license. Plus, you're blind, how are you going to hunt?" Do I see a little discrimination here? Jackasses.

WTF? I can just go to Walmart and get myself a sweet rifle and shoot myself some dachshund? I'm there.