I just labeled all my more recent blogs. Maybe grab a couple of random readers. And I revisited "Bubble bubble bubble, bubble bubble bubble" because it makes me laugh every single time. And then I decided to read the comments because I always love to read what stupid things most people say. Actually, I hate reading them, but I'm a glutton for torture. Sooooo, I was perusing and mentally punching people and I came across this joke that I just had to share:
Q. How many kids with ADD does it take to change a lightbulb?
I wrote this email to a good friend of mine (who's also a dog walking client) after my experience today. I went to meet another client who happens to live 2 doors down from them:
"I'm sure your husband told you about the surprise visit from me, two dogs and [her] daughter. I knocked on their door and two of the dogs barged through the door, went barreling past me across the street and then up the street in on coming traffic (both ways of course, one of them actually stayed stopped in front of a waiting car) and then ran right into your driveway where Digger met them with unbridled excitement and Coco growled and barked at them. To make things even more exciting, [your husband] came outside and one of their dogs ran into your house and ate some of your doggies' food. They had no collars on so catching them from the beginning had been shockingly impossible. I was very happy to meet [your husband], although he probably thinks that I'm an incompetent idiot."
Matt and I were driving the other day and I was listing off places that we needed to go to and then I said, "And then we need to go to Hollandaise." Matt looked over at me. I said, "I just really wanted to say Hollandaise." Matt shook his head at me for a while and I laughed for 10 minutes.
Yesterday Matt and I went to brunch. Sitting next to us was a family from a foreign country, most likely a slavic one. As they sat there eating their food, an older woman approached them. She leaned in conspiratorially and said, "My husband didn't want me to ask you this, but I'm going to any way. What color is a burp?" They looked somewhat blankly at her and so she repeated it, adding a motion of something being ejected from her mouth. One of them said, "What." "Burple!" And then she cackled happily and walked away while they sat there stunned. The american girl with them, obviously a cousin, explained the joke to them and they all gave their protests of confusion. And she goes, "Well, it isn't funny. That's why." And every one lived happily ever after.
Except for Matt. See, I burp a lot (because I'm a classy lady) and every time I did it yesterday, Matt would say, "Burple." And then he'd sigh in frustration that he couldn't get it out of his head.
I have 7 million five hundred thousand and eight things to report on but I don't have any time!!!!!!!!!! I have updates on the baby birds, who have flown onto the big world out there (have to have the pictures to discuss, can't upload them here), I have some killer pictures of the kittens at the shelter (see above reason for not posting them now) [obviously "killer" means "awesome", and I hope I didn't have to explain that at all] and what else, just stuff. THINGS!!!!!! I turned 30 last week. Big day. And then next chapter of my life has begun...
This morning, I was getting up and I heard the mama bird outside and went to the window to see what was going on. She was perched on the edge of her nest with an almost whole egg in her mouth. She glanced at me and flew away.
A little while later, I started hearing cheeping sounds and I asked Matt if he could hear them. He said he couldn't, so he decided to go out for a smoke to check it out. Not wanting to miss out on the action, I rushed around getting my camera.
We went outside and she was sitting on the nest, which made me worried and then she got angry and flew away. I knew it was going to happen but couldn't resist seeing a newborn. And there it was! So teeny, sitting next to its sibling who's still unhatched. The eggs had been laid a couple of days apart. So I took a couple of photos. Got the one I wanted and left the area so she could come back (with a little bit of Matt prodding me to go back inside).
So, now as I'm sitting writing this, the window in front of me looks out on the back yard. I can see a bird shooting back and forth. As she goes out of my sight, I'm pretty sure it's her. Possibly, though, it's the male bird that we haven't seen much of but apparently should exist.
Here's a photo of the baby, less than an hour old.
Here's a picture of Milo with his eyes open! No flash!
Milo and Piper in a grooming sort of a battle:
Tabitha loves boxes. LOVES THEM. Box open, stuff removed, in goes Tabitha. I love this picture. I think it captures the strangeness of her obsession.
This was a photo that infuriated me because my lens (not my regular macro) just WOULD NOT FOCUS. So frustrating. But then Matt pointed out that it shows what they're looking at out the window. Picture saved. I guess.
And exciting news! We have a nest! There was a mommy bird hanging out (I'd hear her coo a lot) and Matt went out onto the back porch one day and said that he discovered eggs in our plant hanger! Not only that, but the mom bird (a dove) (and single mom, apparently), will actually stay on her nest when Matt goes outside to smoke a cigarette. So not only does he have to walk by her to get out onto the porch, but he's 3 feet from her when he's out there! And she stays! She stares at him but doesn't fly away.
Here is a shot of her and a shot of the eggs (she flew away when I was taking pictures. Apparently, Matt is her boyfriend.)
So excited about the babies!!!!!! Future update to come!
A couple of months ago, Rachel texted me and told me to listen to Colin Hay's song "Maggie". I went to YouTube, searched for it and found a video. I then bookmarked it and never found the time to watch it (lame).
Tonight at the theatre, we had Colin Hay. What a phenomenal show that was!
First off, he played a song at the opening of the show and then talked for a solid 15 minutes. And he was hilarious. And then he started in with the songs. And they got more poignant and sadder. And I kept listening and thinking, This one? Is this the song? It's pretty and it's making me cry! It's got to be! And I'd send off a text to Rachel.
And then he played the first verse of Maggie.
"When I first set eyes on you First you beat me up then you kissed me too"
And as the chills swept through my body, I knew it was the one. Wow.
Here's the YouTube that I failed to watch:
I recommend not following in my footsteps and instead, watching it toute suite.
The other highlight of my Colin Hay evening was when I was making a kind of subtle but kind of noticeable lighting change and he sort of stopped talking for a second, cocked his head up at the ceiling and said, "Nice lights." I cheered (obviously) and yelled, "Thank you!" and he said, "Nice lights for a singer/song writer." He was clearly used to lights of a different sort. After the show, when I met him, I thanked him for saying something and he thanked me for doing them.
I was talking to his tour manager, Ace (really nice guy) and he said,"You know how many times he's mentioned the lights in the two years I've been with him?" "Tell me!" "Never."
When Colin Hay walked back through the theatre to do the meet and greet, I said that it was nice meeting him.
In my second week of work at the shelter, I adopted a cat. Shocking. They said it was a record. Matt has decreed NO MORE! So, I'm waiting for a house to become the crazy cat lady that lives within. (Just kidding, Matt!!!!!!!!)
I waited a bit in introducing him because Tabitha was having problems adjusting. She was doing a lot of hissing and hitting when I let everybody hang out together. Matt texted me, though, during a show this last weekend and said that Milo licked Tabitha's face and she licked his back. Success!
Here are a couple of snapshots of the new love. (I had to use flash, so they're all with shut-eye.)
Most of the time, when I say this, people scoff at me. Matt is certainly one of those people. I can understand it but I just don't care.
A memorable reaction was when I was talking to some guy in a bar a long time ago about another band that I love, Flogging Molly, and then I mentioned that I loved Blink 182 and he said, "I fucking hate Blink 182" and walked away. I thought it was funny, especially because he was kind of a dork.
Also, years ago, while driving in the city with Kendall and Rachel (on our way to Saturday Night Live, I believe), I somehow got Kendall to play one of their albums. And Kendall says, "Actually some of their songs are pretty good." "Actually? All of them."
Some concert memories:
One time, I drove to Long Island to see them at Nassau Coliseum with a (now ex, obviously) boyfriend who got so drunk during the show that he actually PASSED OUT on the people in front of us. Full on fell on them. The poor skinny girl somehow caught him. So embarrassing. And then on the drive home, when I was completely lost and stopped at a gas station, he took the map out of my hand, crumpled it up, and haphazardly tossed it into the back seat. And then had no recollection of what he'd done the next day when I told him the story. I really miss you, Bryan. Call me.
Then there was the concert at Roseland. What a grand evening that was. We all paid $73 for ten dollar tickets. Then when walking (limping in Rachel's case) down to the bathroom, some little emo-ish d-bag in the making decided to grab Rachel's ass when we were walking by. He had no idea what circle of hell he'd just signed up for when Rachel turned around and slapped him in the face and I pegged him against the wall, yelling at him about respecting females. Then there was the guy at the bar complaining about how much he hated the band and how someone had given him a free ticket and how he should have just stayed home and blah blah blah. So I interrupted his diatribe with a heartfelt, "Then why don't you fucking leave!?" And he looked at me like who in the hell are you? Me? I'm the one who paid 7 times the ticket price for mine and am THRILLED to be there, yelling along with every song. Also? I'm the belligerent one who's going to make you wish you hadn't crawled out of your hole to make it to the concert that you didn't want to come to. He left. Shocking. And then we all danced around like fools to all of the songs, loving every minute of it. That concert was so much fun.
And then it started getting lame. Another time, I went to see them at a race track in Massachusetts and everyone there was 13 and they were with their parents. I would so not want to be the parents, horrified at the overly sexual comments that the band members come up with. That was the end of the concerts. And now that they don't exist, there aren't any more anyway.
But I really love the band. Still. I know that they make crappy music. I know that when I go to the bar and one of their songs comes on, every frat boy with a popped collar will start hopping up and down, high fiving their douchy friends.
I recognize their idiocy. As Tom Delong put it on The Mark Tom and Travis Show, "We're professionals. You might not have known that but we are professionals. And what we do is professionally suck and professionally act like a bunch of assholes on stage. That's what we do. We're just as God made us."
How can you not love someone who says that?????
I just simply love listening to them. I love shouting their music at the top of my lungs in my car. I love playing albums on repeat. Once is not enough. Hell, twice isn't enough. I love that half of their lyrics make absolutely no sense. I shout those ones even louder!
There are some lyrics that do make sense though. Some that hit me when I hear them. Some that represent a time in my life and fill that needed spot. Here are a few:
"Here I am. Standing on my own. Not a motion from the telephone. I know not a reason why solitude's a reason to die." "I'm ripe with things to say. The words rot and fall away. What stupid poem could fix this home? I'd read it every day." "I never did do anything that she asked. I never let what happened stay in the past. I never did quite understand what she meant. In spite of everything." "So read my book, with a boring ending. A short story of a lonely guy."
And I simply love everything about Adam's Song.
And honestly? This quote is just pure poetry:
"I'm writing the report on losing and failing. When I move, I'm flailing now."
We got early easter basket goodness tonight at the homestead. Included were chocolate covered coffee beans. Matt told me not to eat any. Then he told me to eat a bunch. I ate 7 and flew around my parent's house for a good long while, shouting things like "pew pew pew". Then I was told to knock it off. Not cool considering the circumstances.
Kendall and Matt decided that they wanted to roast the peeps, included in the baskets, over a fire. Burny mouths and subsequent (shocking) goodness followed. Here are some of the pictures that documented the occasion.
(without my flash [loathe flash], some pictures that I wanted eluded me, and what with the ADD free for all I was ensconced in, I couldn't quite put in the effort to actually try and care. I'm including the fuzzy ones because that's the kind of awesome that I am.)
Being the erratic spontaneous wack job that I am, I decided at work yesterday that I wanted to chop my hair off. I discussed it a bit with my splendid co-workers and it was decided. I called the hair salon (Intrigue Salon in Fairfield, go immediately) and made an appointment with Jason, who is brilliant with my hair.
I went home and I didn't say anything to anyone else. No, "Oh my god, Matt! I'm chopping my hair off!" I was on the phone with my mom for a while and resisted (the family'll see me tomorrow).
I woke up, and off I went to my appointment. Not a shred of nervousness or regret brewing. "I want to chop it all off." Jason was all for it. He figured out a very flattering style for me and we were off. In addition, he mentioned something that made all the difference in this experience. He suggested that I donate my hair. I had totally forgotten that was an option!
Now, I feel that I must talk a bit about my hair. I have this weird obsession with wanting to have the longest hair in the room. Since it was in the middle of my back, this was usually easily accomplished. And I wanted it to grow and grow and grow forever. Like back in high school, when it was down to my waist. And then I looked in the mirror and went, "Blah! What am I doing? Yep, it's long. Longer than most people's. But it's also really heavy. And it keeps causing pulled muscles in my neck. And I only do three things with it. And I never brush it. And when I do, I kind of don't like how it looks. And it's kind of lame to keep it this long." Hence the journey. And the subsequent new do.
Tomorrow, I'll send my hair off to Locks of Love and I'm so excited that I can help out in this particular way. It'll give some little girl a chance to have long hair, too.
What is it about the power that funny cat videos and pictures possess? They simply never get old for me. I can watch the same stupid cat video 37 times and I'll laugh. Every. Single. Time. They just never get old. And never become unfunny. Sites like LOLcats and youtube cat videos, they're just guaranteed to make me laugh. Like a raving lunatic. I realize that this post is totally pointless, but I just can't help professing my love for cat retardedness. Love. It.
I caught whatever everyone has at work and have a wicked chest cough and this weird lump in my neck. A lymph node, but it still freaked me out so I went to a walk in clinic. He said to watch it for 2 weeks and if it's still there at that point, to come back and that it might be lymphoma. WHAT? So, he sent me on my way with a prescription for codeine cough syrup. YAY!
Questionnaire for Potential Ticket Holders in Row J, seats 1 and 3 - for shows that are on the more subtle side (a.k.a. Dionne Warwick/Suzanne Vegas, you know, NOT rock and roll shows where it's expected that you'll act like a drunk idiot):
1) Are you a housewife out on the town for the first time ALL year?
2) Did you drink the majority of a bottle of wine at dinner before the show?
3) When your favorite song (most are, apparently) comes on, will you go wild and crazy and throttle your sober husband in an orgiastic frenzy?
4) Do you promise to talk during every. single. song?
5) Especially the songs that are very quiet?
6) Then, do you promise to get belligerent when someone points out that you are yelling during said song?
7) When you're leaving the theatre at the end of the show, on the way down the stairs, do you promise to slur, "Well, I hope it's quiet enough for you now!"
8) When the situation is carefully explained to you, do you promise to threaten job loss? (As in: "I hope you have a job next week!" "Really? Are you going to have something to do with that? Let's go talk to my boss right now." And then will you run away?)
9) (Different person, but guilty of questions 1-5) When the star limps off of the stage at the end of the show, do you promise to yell, "Encore!" over and over again even as people are filing out of the theatre? And then, when your husband (who dozed off during the show, btw) gently says, "Honey, I think she's done for the night," do you promise to snap back, "Oh, she can come back out for one more!"
Less Important and entirely different, but these ones certainly count:
10) Are you on a first date?
11) If so, do you promise to get to know each other by shouting back and forth during the songs?
12) And then, because the woman doesn't know the band, but I happen to, do you promise to try and bond with me when I jump up from the lighting board to dance? (No, thanks, I don't want to high five you.)
If you answered yes to at least 3 of these questions, press "Buy Tickets", pronto.
If you answered yes to questions 1-9, you should hope I never see you again. But if I do, I hope it's when the staff is out to dinner and you and your entire family are stuck in the doorway right next to our table. That way, I can yell, "Look! It's that drunk lady from that show!" Oh wait, that already happened.
This morning, Matt was sitting next to me on the couch, looking at stuff on his usual threads and all of the sudden, he goes, "OH!!!!!!" - scaring the crap out of me.
"Guess what your idiot cat did to me last night! I was at the other computer, playing video games and all of the sudden, out of nowhere, Piper comes barreling into the room, takes a flying leap, and lands on my back, claws out and just stays there! He scared the crap out of me AND he wouldn't get off!"
I should probably clarify that Matt likes to pick him up and Piper climbs onto his shoulders and just sits there, looking around. Matt will sometimes lean forward to give him a platform and then he'll just climb further out onto his back, and again, just sit there. I think Piper likes how tall it makes him feel. So, it's not like this is completely unpremeditated on Piper's be-half, but never has he been so bold as to be like, "Now! I want to be tall NOW!!!!!!!!".
Matt drove me to the doctor this afternoon and as we maneuvered our way on snowy I-95, we chatted randomly. Side note: by maneuver, I mean avoid all the pig-headed SUV owners out there who think that just because they're bigger and have 4-wheel drive, that it's necessary to drive like they would if it was a sunny regular day, haphazardly knocking people out of the way. Matt's Legacy has all-wheel drive, too, but he also possesses common sense. This is clearly something that they surgically remove from your brain once you sign the papers for your gas-guzzler.
Speaking of surgery, we were chatting about human abnormalities and at one point, he added, "And she had 17 toes."
Me? "That's too many. No wait, that's too few...No. Wait."
Sooo, there are these funny little creatures that live in our house with us. I know, I know, "Your cat is so funny and unique and nobody has a cat like you and blah blah blah and I'm so allergic and I hate them and they scratch and wah wah wah." They keep me entertained, and since it's my space, here's a story: Piper (my formerly girl kitten who turned out to be a boy cat. patience.) loves bottle caps. He hears the hiss and stands right next to you waiting patiently until he can go bat-shit crazy with it. He bats them around, willy nilly, flying through the living room/kitchen/dining room/bedroom, sometimes with Tabitha on his heels. What usually happens is that after 20 minutes of noisiness, the bottle cap gets lodged under a rug. Then he does that stupid thing that cats do where they try to reach for something by using the backside of their paws. Logic would say, use the part with the claws. They can stick to stuff! But, alas: Cats? Not so smart. So he'll sort of push his body around the top of the rug in circles, with his front paws feeling around in front of him and his bottle cap? Never shall he meet again (until the next hiss, of course).
So, I wake up this morning and go into to the living room where Matt is starting his day. He asks, "Hey, did you happen to pull out one of the baskets from the coffee table and put everything that was in it on the floor?" "No." "Huh. Piper was being a loud idiot last night with a bottle cap and I finally took it away from him. I put it in one of the baskets so that he couldn't get it. He waited until I went to sleep and then he pulled out the basket! He removed everything! And is now playing with said cap." Hmmm, maybe not so dumb, eh? Here's a crappy phone picture taken a couple of minutes ago. Piper is the one trying to get god-knows-what from under the couch and Tabitha is supervising.
I'll post better pictures of them from my real camera when I'm feeling less lazy. One of these day I'll get around to transferring the 5 billion pictures I have of them sleeping. You're on the edge of your seat. I can feel it.
So, it's been a good four years since I actually spent time on this blog. A blip in 2006 and then nada. There are times when I try to come back and nothing comes out.
When I last posted though, I was immersed in Dave Barry's blog; it being a daily visit.
Last night at the Palace Theatre in Stamford, I went to see Dave Barry talk. My whole family went and it was a big night for me, on a personal, totally nerding out, level. He did not disappoint. Being the Dave Barry-o-phile that I am, I recognized a good 80% of his material. Sometimes, I said the punch lines along with him (quietly, of course. I'm not THAT rude, am clearly that crazy though).
After the show, I burst out of the theatre and was the 3rd person in line to meet him. I'd brought a copy of Dave Barrys Greatest Hits along with me, circa 1988, the copy I'd read hundreds of times. My mom questioned me at dinner why I didn't go out and buy a hard copy of the book to have him sign if it was my favorite. "No, Mom. It's this copy that's important to me." She doesn't get these things. So, I shook his hand, so excited. And as he was signing the book, I mentioned that I'd been an "Alert Reader" once, a big moment for me. He shook my hand again in response. Bigger moment. So that was that. A chapter comes full circle. On to the next thing...
Please note that while many of the links from the 2004 posts do NOT go ANYwhere, I've kept the posts because some include funnier quotes from the missing articles and sometimes, I just like reading my own dumb comments about them. BUT, all of the links that go nowhere are labeled as such, in random, stupid ways. Ok-Goodbye!