Ever since the kittens arrival (note to reader: kittens should be pronounced in your best Michigan accent), The Bear has felt insecure and unloved. He will only accept pets when the kittens are locked in the bedroom. Even then he is wary that we are thinking of the kittens while giving him our loving. Today I gave him a pep talk. You are the most beautiful cat in this house. You have the prettiest whiskers and the whitest toes. You are the champ of butthole displaying. I sincerely hope he felt better after that little speech (does anyone else have the problem of wanting to spell speech as speach?). Immediately after talking with him, I ran in to the bedroom to visit with the kittens. Does that make me a bad mother?
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The Boy is on a work-related phone call, and he just mouthed something at me. I'm pretty sure he just said, "You look like strap meat." I'm not sure what to make of that. I so hope strap meat is a really sexy part of an animal.
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Spent three-quarters of my day at a meeting off-site, and when I got back to the office at 2pm, someone was parked in my space. Jackass SUV. Some Mitsubishi Montero Sport XL in a really lame silvery-green color. I know all these details because I wrote them down (plus license-plate number), because I park right up his ass. Wanted to be prepared if s/he decided to ream my car (Ass! Ream!) or key it. I left a note advising this rude jerkface that s/he was parked in my spot and left my office number.
Then I spent the rest of the afternoon away from my phone. I was in my boss' office and a statistically almost-impossible thing happened. I can see my car from her window, and I thought eh, while I am up here, I'll take a look to see if the person managed to get out of the space. At the exact moment I parted the blinds, the driver was gesturing to someone in the parking lot to be his spotter to get out of the space. They spent a good ten minutes trying. Half-way through, I could see the guy fishing for where he threw my note, and use his cell phone. I was five floors away from my desk. Brahahaha. So they had to keep working at getting an SUV out of a very tight space. One of the managers in my group was there with me, and calling me evil while laughing heartily at what a hard time the driver was having. At least I had a witness in case he backed in to it or go out and kicked my headlights in to smithereens (remember that band?).
That spotter was working very hard. It's 95ยบ out and this poor guy who may or may not know the goat-fucker driver was sweating walking all around the SUV to figure out the best angles. I started to worry that in the attempt to avoid hitting my car, they were going to hit the car parked to his right. Somehow they did manage to get it out--the driver waved thank you and the spotter continued back on his original path to his car.
This is why you do not take my parking spot. I will make it more inconvenient for you than if you had just parked on the street.
Hamster Hater also had someone in his parking space, but he is in the main garage, so if anyone parks behind him, they will be in the direct line of traffic; therefore, he couldn't pull any mean tricks. Though, this did lead to a discussion of having a large nail just for our group, that we will use to puncture tires of the offenders. We won't say anything to each other--we'll just march in, grab the nail, and set out with a determined look and a swift step. Everyone will know exactly what happened and will applaud the revenge mightily.
Parking is limited in Austin. We take our assigned slots seriously. Got it?
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The Boy clarified that he said, "Have you come to strangle me?" I was coiling a grosgrain ribbon around my fingers at the time (the kittens will literally eat ribbons). The ribbon came around a box that contained an awesome necklace that I naughtily purchased this weekend (Bellina Designs has gorgeous jewelry). Strangulation was not on my mind at all--who would make me dinner if I did that?
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