For quite some time, if the dog is around either Donald or myself, Carmen will come flying out of the woodwork and firmly plant herself in the lap of whomever is entertaining the dog.  Once the dog wandered off, she left as well.  For the longest time, I’ve just figured that Carmen was a jealous little git and wanted to make sure the dog wasn’t getting attention she should be getting.  Then I watched her a little more closely this evening.

The dog was in the basement and I was in the kitchen sitting on the floor with Lily & Carmen.  No sooner did she hear the jingle of his tags coming up to the stairs that Carmen raced to the basement door to wait for him.  Well, he blew by her.   (He has an unfortunate tendency to pretend they aren’t there – I assume it is some sort of self-preservation action on his part.)  Well, she *chased* him and then jumped up in my lap as he approached me.  As I watched, I realized she didn’t give a whit about keeping the dog away from me so I could give her more attention, it was all about her being closer to the dog so he didn’t give *me* more attention.

“Mox!  Mox!  Mox!!!  I’m RIGHT HERE!  Ignore the silly humans, I’m RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU!!”

Sure, Lily loves nothing more than to dash up upon Moxley and hip-check him into the wall for laughs, but as far as Carmen is concerned, Moxley is most definitely HER dog.  (He might be more amenable to the idea if she could open the fridge and get out the packages of cheese.)

Perhaps that is why she sleeps in his crate so much – she just keeps hoping he’ll come in and they can snuggle.  I’m quite certain that’s why she ends up under the bed with him every night.

I wonder how many cats have decided that they have a dog of their very own?  I’m sure she can’t be the only one.

The cards were obviously written before I had to go up to the cattery because Lily & Carmen refused to get out of their kennels and in their crates. Lily was easy – I just told her, “Lily! Get in the crate!” Done. Carmen decided this would be a good time to have a shitfit and it took 3 people, two pairs of falconers gloves, and a towel to get her in the crate. (I hit her with a bunch of rescue remedy, but it takes a few minutes to kick in, and a lot of it missed her. Next year I will call ahead so they can just dump the bottle on her head before I get there.) They claim she wasn’t like that the rest of the time – I hope they weren’t lying. Of course, once we were in the car, she was fine and didn’t even need any quiet time once we got home and has been purring up a storm since we got back. Lily has been merrily stomping about the house yelling her head off.

Moxley once again earned his status as the AwesomeDog:

“Moxley definitely enjoyed his stay here at OTPR. He was able to relax and look out the window in his huge room he had to himself! He loved his personal playtimes and walks that he had with our staff. Everyone enjoyed having him and he loved the attention. Moxley always behaved and was well mannered, making him that much better to have, We can’t wait for Moxley to return to us soon here at OTPR!”

He did get bored one afternoon and chew a hole in his bed. My fault for forgetting to take one of his toys to chew up. The cats on the other hand…

“Carmen and Lily are definitely a bonded pair. They are gorgeous felines who enjoy basking in the sun. Both Carmen and Lily were reluctant to play with any other felines but each other, though they did enjoy human companionship at times. Overall both girls did well during their stay. We do enjoy each visit with them and look forward to the next.”

In other words, my cats are little snots with a superiority complex who walk around saying, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful” and “please move human, you’re blocking my sun.”

But for whatever reason this evening, I was just sitting there and my goofy-assed dreams of last night made me think of another dream that I had when I was much, MUCH younger. It would have likely been when sometime between 1st and 4th grade – while we were either in DC or Virginia Beach and spending some of the summers down at my Grandparents house in Sandy Springs, GA – and it was a summer when my Dad was able to come down south with the rest of us. I remember it as clear as if it were three days ago. (And yet I have to search for my keys on a daily basis.)

I dreamed that I had gone fishing and caught the limit on largemouth bass. (Dad and I fished a fair amount in the summers when he was not deployed, so the concept of fishing to limit in a day wasn’t beyond the limits of reason. The limits of reality? Perhaps, but that’s a whole other dimension.) I told my Dad about the dream the next morning. He informed me that we had obviously gotten our dreams mixed up, because he’d had a dream about being locked in an ice cream parlor. I was totally sure he was right and somehow our dreams had DEFINITELY gotten mixed up somehow, because as much as I loved fishing (and still do) being locked in an ice cream parlor was SO MUCH MORE AWESOME!

Given that I still have nary a clue how 99.44% of the world and life actually works, I can’t say that maybe our dreams didn’t get mixed up somehow. Or maybe they were both spot-on, cause I did and still do love to fish and Dad always did love ice cream. But to have that little random memory pop up tonight did put a very large smile on my face.

Sweet dreams, kids – may they give you some random goofy smile on your face tomorrow.

- Reintroduce yourself to your family. Face to face – you know, talking. Think hard – it’s what you did before Facebook chat
- Read a book.
- Go for a walk (Outside – it’s like FrontierVille, but it renders faster.)
- If you have cats, play with them. (Though they may point out to you that 4PM is for sleeping, and 4AM is for playing – at least mine did.)
- Play ball with the dog.
- Knit something.
- Catch up on some of those TiVo shows you’ve been ignoring while playing Farmville.
- Make something to eat. (Note: Unlike CafeWorld, It will likely take more than three clicks.)
- Take a nap. (Remember sleep? It’s what you used to do before you were constantly trying to level up in Mafia Wars.)
- Figure out how you can be the next Mark Zuckerberg and become a billionaire with a movie treatment.
- If you’re lucky enough to have a job in this economy, your boss would probably like you to do something actually related to said job.

I’d add more, but WOOHOO, FACEBOOK IS BACK UP AGAIN!

Kittens: “What is this ‘work on’ thing you speak of?  We are perfectly cute, there is nothing to ‘work on’.”
Me: “Good point.”

I looked at Moxley.
“Well Mox, you’re the awesomedog and really, there isn’t a thing you need to work on either.  Guess it’s just me that needs to improve.”
Mox: *UUURRRRRPPPP* as he barfs.  (Fortunately in the kitchen, easy cleanup.)
Me: “Aww, OK, that’s nice of you.  You can work on not drinking your water too fast and then running around like a banshee and barfing.”

Beyond the dog not barfing up his water and the cats continuing their quest for world domination via cuteness, there are some other things I’d love to see in 2010.

– Lord Stanley’s Cup coming home with the Washington Caps.  (Who should be playing in the Winter Classic today, but NBC and the NHL are full of morons.)

– Civility in the political arena.  There is this really nifty concept where people “agree to disagree” on various subjects that works quite nicely in lieu of ridiculous name calling.  (Note to all parties: The minute you play the Nazi card, you automatically lose the argument.)

– For the economic recovery to actually make it down to regular people and not just Wall Street.  It’s great that the markets have come back, but until people can go to bed at night without worrying that they will lose their house/job/everything, the recovery isn’t complete.

– More reading.  I need to find my library card again.  (Or just suck it up and pay the $2 for a replacement, which will guarantee I find the old one.)

– More patience with my grandmother.  Things are only going to deteriorate, and she’s never going to get that prescription for Valium that the rest of us so very much need her to have.  On the flip side, I also need to remember she has never, ever called with an actual emergency, and she hasn’t died as a result of getting my voice mail instead of me, so the guilt needs to go out the window.  (Probably all easier said than done.)

– For the awesomedog & superkittens to continue to get along so incredibly well.  And for Moxley to not be quite so nervous when Lily is in “Oh Moxley, I LOOOOOOOOVE you!!” mode.   (Right now she is cuddled up next to him, on her back, fast asleep.  Shame she doesn’t feel secure around him.)

– To learn how to clip the cats’ nails.  I chickened out and had the kennel do it while we were in PHX.  (Which also reminds me, the kitty clippers were the item I forgot to get at PetCo yesterday.)  I suspect this may be the easiest of my 2010 endeavours.

– Improve my housekeeping skills.  OK, the skills are there, just getting off my lazy ass and doing it.  I just have a knack for finding a million things that are more interesting than cleaning.

– Finally, to find a bit of direction in my life beyond just keeping my grandmother from calling 911 to ask what day of the week it is.  I think this will be the most challenging task of this year, as my grandmother’s situation has become a bit all-consuming to me as I have been having a very hard time convincing myself that I do not have to make myself available 24/7, and this has put a real dent in my doing anything new or different.

It’s more of a *thunk* than a *crash* but what it lacks in auditory flair, it more than makes up for with the visual of bits of green bottle everywhere surrounded by  red wine.

Bonus when it happens in the checkout line at the market.

In short, Moxley is a big tattletale.

It goes something like this…

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”

“The kittens are fighting!”

“They’re running in the house!”

“They’re standing near the bicycle!”

“Lily’s in my spot on the couch!”  (Though he did attempt to take care of this himself by jumping on the couch and sitting on her.  Lily was unfazed.)

“Carmen is laying by the front door!”

“Lily is on my chair!”  (Followed by his jumping on the chair and Lily headbutting him.)

“Lily’s touching me!”

“Carmen went under the shelf by the door and I can’t see her now!”

The kittens have gone back upstairs for lunch and a nap.  The dog is utterly exhausted.

It’s not great by any means, but I do like my handwriting. It might take a second look to read some words, but it’s not as bad as a doc’s prescription.

# Do you prefer to print or write in cursive?

No actual preference, as I will switch between printing and cursive at will. (And yet didn’t realize it until my brother pointed it out to me just the other night.)

# Do you think handwriting should be graded in school?

HELLS Yes. Not necessarily “great cursive” (which we *were* graded on) but being able to write something that others could read at a later date.

# Do you prefer writing in pencil or pen?

Pen! Not that I do the NYT crossword in pen or anything like that, but I do prefer pen to pencil for writing, as pens go faster across the page than pencils do.

# When you write in ink, do you prefer a neutral color such as black or blue, or a fun color like purple or green?

I don’t know why, but I HATE blue ink. Black, pink, purple, green – it’s all good. Blue I will only use when there is no alternative. (I never said I was normal.)

But I’m OK with it. I once asked a bartender if my consistency in ordering made me predictable or pathetic. She said, “It makes you a good customer.” She really knew how to earn her tips.

There is the rare occasion where I deviate from the norm. Not often, but it does happen. And it worries people…

This afternoon I submitted my final paper and put the lid on another class. I then picked up a non-textbook and went outside and sat in the sun and read and dreamed of world travels. It was a good, hot, sunny day and this put the idea of margaritas into my head. Had I actually had the ingredients to make a pitcher here at the house, I would have, but I didn’t, so I kept reading and drinking Gatorade for the course of the afternoon.

Hoofed it up to the pub for some “it’s Friday night/my class is done/my brain can rot for a month” socialization and libations. This is where it went a tad sideways, and eventually I got ratted out to the manager…

I still had margaritas on the brain and near had to jump the bar to keep the bartender from hitting the Guinness tap (she’s a very good bartender) to ask for a margarita.

Her answer? “NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” (With a look on her face that said I asked for Red Bull and rat poison.)

But she came through for me and the margs hit the spot head on. Then I asked for a Corona as a chaser. Because you can’t follow a margarita with a Guinness. (They simply do *not* blend well.) This is when the bartender turned to the manager and said, “Cindy’s messing us up!!!!!!!!!” This particular manager, not knowing my habits like the back of his hand, looked at her and said, “Corona is good, what’s the problem?”

My brother nailed it quite well when asked why I was going off the rails as far as my usual consistency goes. “I think she’s in beach mode.” (He’s quite smart.)

Hot sunny day, the beach is a mere two weeks away, I can let my brain rot for a little bit? Yes, I suspect I am in beach mode, which is sunshine, fruity drinks, and Coronas.

It’s not a bad mode to be in, even if it does upend the bartender occasionally.