A Brief Walk Along the River

The Boy has been really cute lately--in a way that I'm sure parents find their kids endearing. He's such a sweetie, but sometimes, I feel like I should put a quote of a day up for him. He is not an idiot and in no way stupid (I would hate him and mock him daily if he was more like Twit), but sometimes he talks before actually running what he is about to say through his head for a common-sense check.

Here are my two favorites from the past few days:

1. If we don't have long distance, how will my family call me? (After a BWAH? moment, and a few questions, I realized that he thought long-distance calls could only be made between people who both had the long-distance feature on their phones. I assured him that even if we got rid of our long distance on the land line--which we're not--his family would still be able to call us, and could continue not picking up the phone when they did.)

2. I wonder how IHOP got its name? (My eyes rolled around in my head for a moment, and I said, "REALLY?"). Oh, International House of Pancakes...mumble...mumble...mumble (some intense flipping me off and some mutters over iPod and such).

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Since the sun was out today (versus the last week or more of rain), I wanted to go take a very tiny stroll by the river. My sinuses were enraged, but I chose to ignore them. Here are pics of our good times.


Flipping through my Field Guide to Birds, Eastern Region, and I believe these little fellows are American Coots, which aren't ducks at all--just "duck-like."


The Mighty Grackle!


Whoopis likes to make love to my head and stamp my eyes just like this. I felt I shared a special bond with these two squirrels.

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Damn, I love a good sunset photo. 1/23/10

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Wikus on our city: "It's like a big monster ate a lot of strip malls, pawn shops, and suburban subdivisions, and then sicked up."

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One month ago we had to put the Orange Lover to sleep. Which is a term I don't really like, but is better than the cold scientific word of euthanasia. I am still quite sad, and every time I come home or shuffle in to the livingroom, I expect him to come greet me with his funny little silent meow. When he wasn't silently sassing me, he was running through the house howling like he was on fire. I firmly believed he had elderly dementia. He was such a fucking awesome cat. I still worry about the decision I made, but then I think about if the last month had been pumping him full of I.V. fluid and giving him B12 shots. That would probably have been a very bad month for my little lover.

I've been having these bittersweet dreams of him. They are everyday, normal dreams. He is happy, often sleeping and looking lovely. He's not dead, he's not sick. He's content. They are good dreams, but I wake up aching to hug him. I want to headbutt his head and have him snuggling against my stomach while I watch TV. I miss you little guy.


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Speaking of TV, why the fuck is Luke Wilson a) shilling for AT&T and b) so fucking fat? This bothers me on so many levels.

My acrimonious divorce from AT&T is almost complete. We are getting Grande out here to give us internet and a new landline. We just don't have a date yet of when they are coming out, but here's hoping it is the next week or so. The Boy missed the call yesterday, so it looks like we have to wait until Monday to talk with someone. Going with a smaller business better be worth it. Either way, AT&T must die.

Grocery Shopping

Since these past four days were almost exclusively sleeping and napping-on-the-couch days, I was practically forced to go to the grocery store after work today. The good thing about shopping after work is I am already up and out of the house, and I pass it on the way home. It wasn't even that crowded; thug, giving me time to think about various aspects of the store. Specifically, why is there an "Ethnic Care" section? Does this bother just me as a middle-class white person? Or is it offensive to black people and everyone else who the grocery store may think is "ethnic?" I was very puzzled why the aisle can't just be, you know, HAIR CARE.

I kept hearing bird noises in the store, but noticed it was one of the worker's walkie-talkie. The grocery store sometimes does have birds in the rafters, but usually in the summer. However, much to my extreme delight, I turned down an aisle and there was a lady grackle on the floor totally nipping in to some bag of food on the floor. Go lady grackle, use those resources! She wasn't making any noises--was too busy eating.

Monday seems to be a stocking day. So there was a lot of dodging around pallets and giddy employees who seemed more busy flirting than unloading boxes. I don't begrudge them their grocery-store romances, which really just means I was in a pretty good mood. A bit incongruent considering how much I hate the grocery store. Therefore I'm just going to chalk it all up to the fact that for the past two days (at least) I have been napping between 2pm and 5pm; so my body must have thought it was dreaming.

I did get annoyed at the check-out line. There was no wait, but for some reason the cashier didn't start scanning my items until I had FULLY UNLOADED my cart. Just stood there, kind of staring in to space, and waited and waited and waited. Then when he started to finally scan my stuff, the bagger then barks, "plastic, paper? HELLO!" At first I was taken aback by his gruff demeanor, then I realized he was mentally challenged. Neither the check-out guy nor the bagger could figure out how I had gotten everything in to my cart, and were packing it all willy-nilly until finally asking for my assistance. I'll forgive the bagger, since he obviously had issues, but come on checker! Stack the 12 packs of water on top of each other, fool.

On my way out the door I set off the alarm. The jovial man at the door made me go through the gate a few times to ascertain if it was me or something in my cart. Seems it was me, at which time he started asking where my clothes came from. Seems The Gap or Old Navy has tags in the clothing that are still active for my grocery store's security system. Isn't that neat? I got to dance for this man in front of a whole line of people and be grilled on where I buy my clothes. That is so damn fun. I even had to show him the inside of my jacket, which got a "Huh, I don't see anything..." He finally let me go with a parting, "Well, see if you can find that tag before you go to Wal-Mart, or they will totally call you a thief." To which I responded, "No worry there, I won't be going to Wal-Mart," and he whispered in my ear, "They are totally evil aren't they?"

What a wise door guard.

Immediately after having some dinner, I fell sound asleep for two hours on the couch. Fun how much control my body has over me. At least I'm not sleeping at work. Yet.