CafeChatNoir

I will fully admit that I am unabashedly in love with Jeremy Clarkson, James May, Kevin McKidd, and Craig Ferguson.  Looking at that sentence, it may just be that I have a thing for guys from the UK, but whatever.  Hell, it’s not exactly a secret that my list of issues could keep a therapist in business until his kids graduated college.

But I ADORE Craig Ferguson.  And on 4/20/09 he did an absolutely hysterical opening to his show.  After watching it repeatedly (it makes me giggle like a maniac every swinging time) I finally had to ask my brother, “Was it just aired on 4/20 and they didn’t care, or is there some pot reference I am missing?”  The answer was, “Stoners really like the puppets.”  Well, I am not a stoner (despite my unemployed slacker status) but the puppets do slay me every single time.  So, whenever I’m feeling a bit low, or extra silly, this is my go-to video on YouTube. (And really, the puppets had the easy lines – this took some work for everyone to know the song.)

Seriously, if you’re in need of some giggles, this should do it for you:

It was the weekend while I was waiting and waiting AND WAITING to get Carmen & Lily home and I was flashing their shelter website photos to everyone, cause OMG BATMAN, I HAD KITTENS COMING HOME!

The cat people were very excited for me.  The non-cat people at least saw all the crazy happy going on and nodded and smiled and looked at the pictures and said they looked pretty cute.  And then there was the gentleman who was a vet tech who said, “Torties are insane, just so you know.”

I thought, “Pfffft.  Cats are cats.  I’ve had a Calico, and that’s kind of like a Tortie and we got on swimmingly.  And I’ve had 3 other cats since Patches.”  Little did I know how ridiculously right he was.

These two are nuts.  NVTS, nuts.  It does not diminish my love for them, it actually enhances it, because it is a wonderful lovable crazy.  Today Lily managed to not only get to the top of the curtains on the back door, she got to the curtain rod.  The problem with this is not only that she is a curtain climber* (she is the first) but that my first reaction is, “Damn, well done!” quickly followed by, “No, wait, Bad Kitty!  You’re not supposed to be up there!”  I had to grab a cushion from the patio furniture for her to jump down on – really, I can’t blame her for not wanting to jump into two small hands.

Lily also likes to burrow.  The other day Moxley was standing outside his crate, visibly upset.  (He willingly and happily naps in his crate.)  I looked in, and Lily had burrowed inbetween the blanket layers and pretty much tucked herself in.  The sight of a disembodied cat head resting at the back of his crate was a little more than Mox could handle.

Carmen is also nuts, perhaps a compensation issue for the fact that she is a petite six pounds.  She will jump and sit on the dog’s tail if it is within reach at any time.  She also has been known to punch the dog.  No, not swipe at the dog, but curl up her little blue & blonde paws and punch him in the face.  She is also the cat that I fear will figure out that the lever on the toilets is what makes the water go all swirly.  If that happens, I will have the water bill of an apartment complex.

Donald is also in the process of teaching her to do a barrel roll on command.  He’s almost there.  She also has a weird obsession with wet washcloths.  A dry washcloth, I could understand – it’s a little kitty sized binkie.  But no, it’s a cold, wet washcloth from the shower.  Not even warm because she snagged it right away after shower time.  I have lost count of the nights I have walked upstairs only to encounter a cold *squish* under my feet.

I’ve only been given the honor of their presence for a little under 5 months, but yes, these two are absolutely and completely insane.  And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

*In her defense, it is a heavy duty insulated curtain that she can’t hurt.  She does take the time to test the structural integrity of all fabrics before climbing them.  Which is why I am safe when I wear my flannel PJ pants.  Water doesn’t faze her, so a squirt gun would be a waste of time and 99 cents.

Round 1 was easy – just a path through the backyard for the dog.  Headed out for Round 2.

Got outside, most of my neighbors were out, which made it more tolerable.  (I can’t quite say “fun” but not as bad as being out there by myself.)  My neighbor on the left had snowblown the sidewalk all the way down to the edge of my driveway.  Three of my neighbors from across the street came over and we all started working on the snow berm from hell. We all commented on my brother’s managing to escape this nonsense.  (Though he’s in the thick of nasty weather as well, and likely helping there.)

My right hand side neighbor was back out with his snowblower as well.

Now, I have no idea what my sweet southern neighbor went and said to snowblower neighbor, but next thing I know I look up and he’s snowblowing the entire sidewalk, does my driveway and then hits the berm.  We all then trooped over and dug out snowblower neighbors car, so I think it all came out even in the end.  Then I went back over the sidewalks from the driveway to driveway on either side and did my own driveway again – it was already covered again in the time it took 4 of us to dig out a car.

We’re still going to get another 8-10 inches of snow today, but at least I should be able to keep up with it now.

The animals reaction to all this?

Moxley:  You have got to be shitting me.  Again?  SERIOUSLY?

Carmen:  Do you see that?  There is stuff FALLING from the sky!  DO YOU SEE IT??!?!

Lily:  Hey, are you gonna finish that sandwich?

A visual of Moxley’s feelings on the storm:

As you know, I am the Chairman and CEO of “Keep Grandma Out Of A Nursing Home, Inc.” Like any startup, the first 18 months were hell – one cranky client, no suppliers, on call 24/7 and spending most of my time beating my head into a wall and tearing my hair out. Then, things finally started to come together, reliable help was found, I get to sleep through the night again, and things are running almost in a manner that could be considered “smooth”. This is the point in the business cycle where another enterprise comes along and buys me out for a ridiculous sum of money.

UnitedHeath and HCA – I’m looking at you guys. You both made some nice profits last year, and after all – I am your competition! Let the bidding wars begin.

In other news, my neighbor just called and asked, “So, do you know where your dog is?” “Um, I’m betting he’s not in the backyard like I think he is…” Seems the side gate blew open and he had himself a little adventure. At least he doesn’t go far afield when this happens, and it was just a matter of opening the door and saying, “Ohh, Moxley?” and he was back in and barking at the cats.

ProTip: If you have less than great depth perception, and lack grace & coordination – stay away from things that can hit you in the head – like doors. My temple is STILL hurting from whacking my head on the door yesterday. (Seriously, how the hell do you walk into a door?)

Christ, in what I can only describe as being seriously self obsessed, the Australian arm of the fast food chain Kentucky Fried Chicken has had to withdraw an advertisement after accusations of racial insensitivity from AMERICANS who saw the ad on the internet.

It showed a white cricket fan trying to pacify a group of rowdy West Indian fans by handing around fried chicken.

Good grief, way to be morally superior and absolutely idiotic at the same time for not being able to take into account the fact that THE REST OF THE WORLD ISN’T LIKE US, and not everyone is offended by the same things we may be offended by.

Oh and the fact that the team in question WASN’T FROM the deep south of the US*, and therefore any unfortunate stereotypes of African Americans & fried chicken most likely don’t even apply in the first place.

I will not even enter the debate over KFC itself. It’s awesome in it’s own perfect way. (The number of times I have sent out SO’s or family members for a 3 piece with mashed potatoes & coleslaw when I’m feeling under the weather is proof itself.)

*I’m not saying that there aren’t cricket clubs in the states that are considered the “deep south” of the US. I have no doubt that there are cricket clubs all over the United States. But this ad didn’t have a team from Georgia, Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, South Carolina or any other state that might be considered the “deep south” in the United States. It was the WEST freakin INDIES.

And sometimes that means rescheduling Christmas.  This certainly isn’t the first time it’s happened, as I seem to recall being signed out of school sometime in February/March one year with my mother signing the “reason for absence” as “Going home to have Christmas.”  (Mind you, we were in a predominantly military area and the lady in charge of the book didn’t even blink an eye over it, as she knew which boats were coming home and when.)

Tomorrow is our Christmas.  And I’ll fully admit that I am positively bouncing off the walls over it tonight like a six year old.  The stockings are overflowing and I have not one but TWO presents that little bro didn’t have on his Amazon.com wishlist.  (Not that he would mind getting nothing but items that were on his wishlist, but it’s really fun to find things that he hasn’t called out ahead of time!)

We’ll be doing Christmas brunch with hashbrown casserole, bacon, egg casserole, and Mimosas.  (From what I have heard, 2 casserole/hot dish items might make us Lutheran – if that is the case, so be it – I do love a really good hot casserole.  Kelly – you can tell me for sure on this aspect!)  And later as we watch college football and ACC basketball (and possibly the arrest of my godmother*)  there will be sausage cheese balls, pastrami/swiss pinwheels, and given how hungry we are, spanokopitas, mini quiches, mini crabcakes, and pigs in blankets…  (I tend to ensure there is about 6x more food than we actually need for any holiday eating event.)

If there is stuff under the tree for me tomorrow – AWESOME!  If not?  Who cares??!?  Cause I get to be Santa for my brother and my pets.  (Yes, the pets get Christmas presents – it’s the only way I can use the “Santa is WATCHING!” excuse to get them to behave.)

I think it was sometime in high school or college that Christmas went from “OMG, getting cool stuff!” to “OMG, giving cool stuff to everyone else!!!!” and I’m so glad that it flipped over whenever it did.  Cause Christmas became SO MUCH MORE FUN when I hit that point.  And looking back at every Christmas when my parents said, “I think we went overboard this year,” I really do understand – because it’s so ridiculously fun to go overboard for everyone else!

Merry Christmas, all – even if it is a tad behind schedule.

*She claims her potential appearance on Centre Court is legit – we’ll know for sure if the announcers do/do not speak of a “fan disturbance” incident.  :)

Music of the Moment: Bob Dylan, Must Be Santa.

So yes, the snow is coming down like gangbusters here in the Metro DC area.   There is 6 inches on the back deck right now, and my brother and I are debating whether or not this is the worst of it.  I see a bunch of precip still off the NC/SC coast coming up at us, he thinks that band will veer off – I’m not so sure.  The weather reports say the snow will continue to come down all day tomorrow and possibly into Sunday morning.  So, we shall see.

Put the cats in front of the back door tonight so they could see what real snow looked like.  They were entranced.  Nothing like a “WHOA…” expression from a kitty cat.

Mox has proven via his pawprints that he has serious leaping ability.  You can’t really see it as well when there is no snow, but for a small dog, he’s got some really springy legs.

Not sure what is going on with VDOT, there have been at least 3 trucks that have gone by the house, and yet the feeder roads in the neighborhood are in better shape than the main drag in town.  (Yes, I went out.  Last chance I have before being trapped in my house tomorrow.)

And as a result of all this, all the animals are quite riled up, and every time Carmen does her roly-poly thing on the floor, Moxley completely freaks out.  I can only think it’s cause Snoopy & Target never did that in front of him, and he thinks Carmen is having a seizure or something.  I think there might be a LOT of barking this evening…

Roughly a year ago, my adorable dog decided to present me with a frozen, dead squirrel.

Today (or techically yesterday) is Moxley Day.  AKA, his “birthday” as we don’t know his actual birthday, and he came to the family the week before Christmas.  I decided 12/1 should be the Moxley Day as it wouldn’t get mixed up with Christmas and he wouldn’t get shorted due to the holidays.

I came home, let him out, and as he came back in, yet again, I thought he had a stuffed animal.  Then I realized that the reason he was ignoring the offers of Beggin Strips was because he had something better.  A goddamn possum.  CHRIST ON A CRACKER. WHY DOES MY DOG BRING ME THIS STUFF????

And I had to call Donald to come up and help me get the dog in sans dead (or temporarily stroked out possum) and being a good dog, he did come in wihtout gifts.  And the possum is still curled up and looking a bit of a mess (not fight wise, just bad hairdo wise) on my back deck.  And I don’t know how long it takes a “dead but not dead” possum to get up and GTFO, and I don’t know if they get messy coats over the course of the crappy weather or if this is because my dog slobbered him to death, so I  don’t know if my dog snapped the neck of a sick possum or drowned him with slobber or just got too close to a healthy possum that just “keeled over” for his own protection.

But I will say that I really, REALLY don’t want to have to remove a dead possum from my deck with the snow shovel tomorrow, especially since we don’t have trash pickup again until Friday morning.

And if the damn thing is still on the deck in the morning, then I get to call animal control and have the friggin’ thing tested for rabies and I have to keep the Mox quarantiened for who knows how long to be sure everything is A-OK.  Oh joy.

EDIT:  The possum is FINALLY making his way off the deck, if somewhat slowly – and doesn’t not look thrilled that he got picked up and carried this close to the house in the first place.

Here in lovely Fairfax County we are under a “Dense Fog Alert” from the National Weather Service.  And I can attest that they were correct, as there is a boatload of seriously dense fog out there this evening.

But as I was driving through it, I couldn’t help but be reminded of my days in Driver’s Ed, as Coach* told us that if we were driving in the fog, we should NOT put our brights on, no matter how much we wanted to.  There was something about glare and such, and I could only silently nod my head in agreement.  I was a sophomore, I sucked at all science, and had no experience actually driving anywhere other than around the block, much less in the fog, so it sounded perfectly reasonable.

Until the first time I actually drove in fog, quite some time later.  I drove along, hearing Coach’s voice in my head, and yet I turned the brights on anyway.  Part of it was to simply be able to see what on earth he was talking about.  When he gave the lecture, I only had my learner’s permit and wasn’t driving on foggy nights anyway, so I really had no idea what he was talking about.  The other part was to see if he was correct or off his rocker.

So I flipped on the brights.  And yes, there was a bit of glare.  But the world most certainly didn’t come to an end!  Even with the glare, I could see SO MUCH MORE than I would have been able to see otherwise.  And I survived the foggy drive home.  And all I could think the entire time was, “That bastard LIED to me!!”  (And I was in college at that point and it still pissed me off.)

I don’t know if they’re still throwing the “no brights in the fog” as the Driver’s Ed party line, but I hope not – because it’s just another reason to make the younger generation not trust anyone over 30.

The moral of the story?  Don’t go with scare tactics – they don’t work.

*Because isn’t the assistant coach of the football team the best person for teaching Driver’s Ed?

But hey, I haven’t had cats in over a year, much less KITTENS!

Lily’s e-collar is off, and she’s spent the past 24 hours grooming all the spots she couldn’t reach before.  Last night when I went upstairs to see them, I said, “Awww, look at the naked Lily!” and I swear, Carmen gave me this look of, “How about some praise for those of us that didn’t need protective headgear in the first place?”

Though they’re still confined to the bathroom when they’re alone, their world has expanded to the bedroom now.  I go up and kick back and read and they run around and explore and help me with kitten proofing.  It goes something like this:

- Not a cat toy.
- Not a cat toy.
- OK, technically not a cat toy but you won’t hurt yourself playing with it.
- Hey, that’s my underwear!

Then we get into a bit of information overload and they start trying to beat the snot out of each other, so it’s treat & nap time.  (I suspect this is a bit like crackers, juice & nap time with toddlers.)  I am getting a lot more reading in this way, but I’ll be happy when they’re big enough to come downstairs and watch the hockey games with me.

The continued introductions with Moxley have gone swimmingly.  He is definitely not used to cats that actively approach him, but he’s coping quite well.  This morning after Moxley decided he was ready to go back downstairs, both kittens followed him to the door.  So cute!

I’m not sure the sides of the box spring on my bed will survive kittenhood.  Though we’ve showed them the easy way to the bed, via the cedar chest at the foot of the bed, it’s so much more fun to climb up the side of the bed.  Lily has discovered the fun of burrowing under the blankets on the bed.  This is usually followed by Carmen flying in out of nowhere and landing on top of the kitten lump on the bed.  (Oh, I fear for my toes once they’re sleeping in the bedroom.  Perhaps it’s time to start wearing socks to bed.)

If I catch them at the right time and they’re not quite awake yet, they just want to crawl in my lap and keep snoozing.  If that doesn’t melt you a little bit, not much will.

I am SO glad these two picked me out at the shelter. :-D