After a delightful dinner with Mary and Kevin (but not Taya as planned--get better, baby Milo!), I got off the A train a few stops early for a surprise visit to CRD's for some bitching about my day and a little Jessica Fletcher. Murder She Wrote is like mashed potatoes: very easy on your stomach, comforting, and warming. Also: fattening.
Then, I get an e-mail from CRD with the subject header, "Guess What You Left Here?"
I am having a Tough Time lately. First there was Woody's pneumonia (and the heart attack I nearly had from the $7,000 vet bill), then my projectile hypochondria resulted in my dragging poor panting Ginger all the way down to the vet only to discover that sometimes kittens pant because it is summer, not because their nasal polyp has grown back. Who knew?
Anyhow, I need a pick-me-up. CRD sent this suggestion. Turns out that a baby gorilla only runs you about twenty grand. Unlike all the chaos and illness that entered the home with my beloved kittens, I am sure there would be no complications from adopting a gorilla. In fact, I am sure I would save money on account of not having to buy so many gorilla booger snacks.
James had a friend who tweeted (twat?) about eating gorilla boogers. Now, when I was an apprentice ape keeper at the National Zoo, I was interested in all aspects of my gorilla friends. I loved them so much, I was willing to pick up their poops with my hands (in gloves, sometimes double-bagged). In the interest of finding out what their food tasted like, I once ate a piece of gorilla biscuit, but I don't know that I would ever have carried it so far as to taste their nose crud.
... are actually sweetened dried black bean candies. The folks over at Candy Addict think this sounds unpleasant. I don't know. Maybe because I had such a vivid image of real life gorilla boogers in my head and this is so much better than that, I think I might eat them after all.
Kevin pointed out that maybe slow lorises are really endangered beasts and maybe these people shouldn't have one in their bed. This is, apparently, a real issue. I sure hope folks won't see this slow loris getting tickled on Amber & and try to get one for themselves.
Also, I learned from Wikipedia that they are actually venomous animals who mark their territory with pee all the time. That's a pretty compelling argument for leaving their cuteness in the wild if you ask me.
This is not the first mail I have gotten from Diana Prince, though. When I was a wee lass, I used to write letters to her, in care of the local CBS station, all the time. And, when the show was cancelled, I sent a letter to the station president saying that I knew that it was just because the P.T.A. was jealous of Linda Carter's body. Everything I knew about P.T.A.'s I learned from that song.
Sometime after CRD gave me that friendship shirt with the hippo and the monkey riding the bicycle built for two. If Woody's legs were jointed differently, I would totally ride a bicycle built for two with him.
Today is the birthday of the three cats who comprise the Chan Patrol: Ms. Tiggy Winkle, Boy Lucie, and Woodrow Wilson Gutherie Cat.
The kitties are seen here in their Sunday Best Birthday Outfits. I'm going to go make them a tuna cake now. (not really) I cant believe how lucky I am that my mom found them in the rhubarb patch eleven years ago.
The boy seems like he is hanging in there. Nick and I are going to go get him a refill of one of his scrips, and eat ramen since it's right there, but then we will come home for programs and snuggles. Because I love Woody, programs, and snuggles. I am demonstrating snuggles now. Woody is demonstrating how kitties love sunshine.
Woody is home safe. He has an intense regimen of medicines, including a kitty inhaler and an eye ointment-- both of which he loooooves (not). The boy has to be quarrantined from the other cats, so he is in the bedroom. We had some sink hands yesterday but also some sneezes that we called the doctor about this morning. We go back in a week. Get better, little mister.
When you are working at home, instead of going out for a (wood) smoke(d slice of pizza), or making an afternoon tea, you stop to take photos of your cats.
Some of them aren't feeling so well, and going in for chest x-rays tomorrow, but others are sure temptingly cuddly and curly. How can you resist that belly up in the air? How could you just walk away without getting even closer? Gorgeous.
I always learn alot watching America's Next Top Model, like how to laugh with my eyes, that looking like a broke down doll can be a good thing, and that you have to go over the edge and then pull back. I also, apparently, learned how to use my face to tell a story.
The story I am telling here is that I am confused and disappointed when my iChats get declined.
Every delivery from Fresh Direct has an element of surprise. Like when you order something and it comes and it's not quite what you wanted. (Think giant block of butter instead of sticks, or a gallon's worth of drink boxes.) Or, the time they came an hour before the start of my delivery window and just left my groceries outside my apartment door.
I was chatting today with my local pet store owner and found out that he actually pays more for rent uptown near my house than he does at the midtown location which is near CRD's house. This somehow has something to do with why he doesn't stock as many varieties of the Nature's Variety dry food, including the incredibly popular (at least in my house) Bunny Rabbit Blend.
Likewise, uptown there isn't as much as a demand for doggie outfits. I told him that, if I got my own Sakehausman, I would create a market for his wares.
(Don't tell Woody I am joking about getting a pug. Stress might trigger his asthma.)
It's been an exhausting week, with no time to spare for blogging. Thankfully, CRD has been picking up the slack over at Internals Plural with two blogs post daily.
I haven't been the only one suffering from seasonal allergies. Poor Woody has been a wheezy beast. We saw Schaubhut this morning who confirmed he has been having another bout of kitty asthma. Schaubhut also reports that horses sometimes have asthma, and that they sometimes sneeze. Although my own pet's respiratory distress hurts my heart, theoretical sneezing horses make me giggle.
On the way home, I stopped by the office to get my laptop so I could be productive on my couch. Since the office is pet-friendly, I took the opportunity to let Woody stretch his legs.
He started off by sniffing the entire perimeter.
And then he settled into a spot that allowed him full view of the exits.
Maybe, instead of daydreaming of getting a pug, I should just start pretending Woody is a pug? He's already got the lap thing mastered.
I have been having horrible trouble sleeping. I lie down at a reasonable hour, caffeine long behind me, but then I just can't get comfortable. I didn't doze off last night until well after 2 pm, and that was even after I self-medicated. And, of course, self-medication then leads to an inability to function in the morning, such as today when I poured the water into the french press, let it steep, and then realized I hadn't added any coffee.
And, I am still feeling under the weather, although some people are suggesting that it may be allergies.
One of the really great things about being a citizen in the Facebook Empire is how large its dominion actually is. In addition to friends from elementary (Hi, Valerie!) and high school (Ralph, how come you never wrote me back?), folks from D.C. (some of whom just got into Harvard Business School!), and people I totally don't remember at all (who are you?), there are Amberclan relatives a'plenty!
Of course, I was in touch with my sister, Princess Leia, before Facebook. But, I'm been able to become Facefriends and catch up with my cousins Jenifer, Lori and April, my uncle Wayne, aunts Delores and Gail, and a bunch of second cousins (or cousins once removed?) I haven't seen since they were infants.
This weekend, I accepted a Faceinvitation to be Facefriends with a man named Dan who shares my lastname. I don't think we're related, but my paternal family is so large we could be and I just wouldn't know. We have alot in common, though. We both blog, like pickles, and have Twitter feeds. His Twitter profile also says he is a botanist, which is funny because I totally worked at that Garden place. He seems to be a musician, which I am not.
I wonder if we are related. He doesn't seem to share the Amberclan mid-section thickness, which might rule shared DNA out. But maybe. Facebook is so mysterious. We do seem to have the same nose, but I thought I got that from my mom's side.
We're here again: I'm got my hair done today and the in-between-lengths are so challenging that I was tempted to abandon the Quest for Puffs and go short. I am not good at awkward phases (those who knew me in high school will know exactly what I am talking about).
So, this morning when I was video chatting with CRD...
I asked him to do that thing he does where he puts one person's face on another person's body. Only, he got confused and put Dame Shirley Bassey's face on the mid-length hair I thought was a likely outcome.
I think it looks good. That CRD is magic with the computer photo retouching.
Actually, it turns out that, without having read my blog (I hope) Jacqueline worked her magic and landed me at the final phase of the Six Hair Plan.
I swear I'm not afraid of my iPhone; I'm trying to peak at my self while not blocking my face with the device.
What lies ahead? Puffs! Which, I think, in its resting state will look like this.
Oh hibe. I hab tha flube. I am all stubby in my nobe and my throbe is bery sore. Kebbin helbed me fibe sub goob remedies. And he robe out the direbshuns for me to fobbow for the day to helb me get bebber.