Monthly Archives: November 2007

The one that rambles on and on at a painfully slow pace, much like a PAT bus.

Most of my coworkers are guys of retirement age. It make for a long and lonely day to not only sit in a cube that is in a dead-end room in the middle of the building, but to have very few people to talk to when I can unchain myself from my desk.

I can has frenz at wurk? Plz? Cuz teh loanleeness? I has it.

Speaking of work, we are continually three days behind on cat cuddling at the ARL. I guess it’s good that we’re not slipping farther behind, but we can’t seem to catch up. Those cats need to be out more than every three days. But we need more people and more rooms to take the cats into. It’s frustrating to keep seeing this, but I imagine how much worse it would be if we weren’t there to help these critters out. It’s even more frustrating that I sit here at my paying job and feel unwanted and useless. I could be using this time to really do some good for something that would appreciate it.

If any of you readers (haha. Like people actually read this drivel.) are feeling generous this Holiday season, remember the critters at the ARL. We’re always in need of towels, notebooks, pens, canned food, brushes, and homes (forever and foster).


My morning, part 2

7:10 am:

Me: *place things near the door, go into other room to scoop boxes, and come back out to find Cliff rooting through my lunch bag. Look into lunch bag and assess damage.*
Me: *staring at sandwich, more specifically, the void that closely resembles a bite having be taken* WTF? *look at Cliff*
Cliff: *looking around at walls, trying to act innocent* Wut?
Me: Did you eat my sandwich?
Cliff: *looking cute, but guilty* Wut?
Me: You ate my sandwich!
Cliff: Wut?
Me: Since when do cats like cinnamon raisin peanut butter or seven grain bread?!
Cliff: *licking his cinnamon flavored whiskers* Wut?

And… scene.

My morning, part 1

5:45 – 5:50 am, my bathroom:

Shake vitamins out of jar.
Convince felines they’re not treats.
Remove kitten from sink.
Drop vitamins onto counter.
Pick vitamins up.
Drop vitamins onto counter, again.
Set comb down.
Remove kitten from sink.
Pick vitamins up, again, swearing at them this time.
Put vitamins in jeans pocket.
Take comb away from kitten.
Start to comb hair.
Remove kitten from sink.
Get toothbrush, paste brush, and turn water on.
Laugh at kitten in sink with now wet head.
Remove kitten from sink.

And… scene.

Eat! Drink! Bleed until you pass out!

T’giving weekend recap:

While at the ARL Thursday morning, I was bitten a few times by a very scared kitty. I bled A LOT. So much, in fact, that while scrubbing my wounds with Nolvasan I started to pass out. I made it to someone’s office, sat down, and then came right back around. I was in serious pain and pretty miserable until Saturday, though, so there was a lot of movie watching and easy things like that. Someone pass the painkillers.

Aside from some bum crescent rolls and slightly over dry stuffing, the meal was good. Turkey was better than most, but it’s still turkey and never one of my favorites. All of our guests enjoyed themselves. I realized the kitchen, though it looks nice, is horribly laid out and gets soso crowded with any number of occupants greater then one.

If you get the chance to see Avenue Q, by all means, do so. Funny stuff.

A perfect example of why I love my friends:

“Saturday’s highlight: taking all the little pieces of broken jewelry to the coin shop…not even enough to fill a 35 MM film container, and walking away with $101.00. That was 2 year’s worth of scrap…all junk I pick up while walking. The Greensburg VFD I think will get all this years’ money.”

Let’s see, what else? Enchanted was cute; Fred Claus not so much. And Charlie Brown still didn’t get to kick the football.

To: The guys that booed me while I was standing in the beer line at the Arena the other night. (I was wearing a New Jersey Devils jersey and rooting for the visiting team.)
Re: Suckage

Boys, the scoreboard said 3-2. Who sucks, now?

To: The ARL
Re: Foster KitN

Your kitten is no longer in foster custody. Consider her extremely unadoptable, perhaps even kittennapped, until I get to signing the papers.

To: The Vending Machine Filler Man
Re: Cheese Curls

Placing ONE bag of cheese curls in front of a row of sour cream and onion chips (read: yuck) may incite an open revolt. Consider yourself warned.

My way. This year, that’s how it’s gonna be. My way is having a good time and trying new things. My way is having an open mind. My way is being flexible enough to deal with whatever comes along yet strong enough to not let anyone else’s attitude take anything away.

Thanksgiving is nine days away. Christmas is forty two. It’s time for food and drink. It’s time for parties. It’s time for reconnecting with people with whom you’ve fallen a bit out of touch. It’s time to have fun, time to throw snowballs, and time to drink hot cocoa. It’s time to enjoy yourself with the reckless abandon of youth… coupled with the capability of adulthood to make it all happen.

If you don’t like the Thanksgiving dinner I’ve made for you, if you can’t find a single thing on the table to eat, then maybe the problem isn’t in the cooking. If you sit there, bored and unable to talk to anyone, then maybe a drink or a pill is in order to loosen the fuck up.

Life is what you make of it, people. It’s ten percent what-happens-to-you and ninety percent how-you-react.

I’m doing things my way this year.