We went to Ed's parents' place on Christmas day in North Port, Florida. In the mad rush to get ready, I left my camera behind, which I regretted when I was presented with the following photo opportunities:
still, i really want another cat. when i saw a young calico named 'stacey' on petfinder, i figured it was a sign. eddie didn't see it my way.
sadly, i still spend my downtime at work browsing through the kitties on PetFinder and PetHarbor. it kills me when i see a cat that looks like suki, lucy, or even the kitten and get mew-y at how unfair it is they don't have homes. they could enrich someone's lives just as much as suki or lucy do ours... but they don't have a chance! sadness! really, the nights i don't stay at eddie's... well, i just can't imagine life without the girls.
and now my soapbox:
THERE IS NO GODDAMN EXCUSE FOR BUYING A DOG OR A CAT THESE DAYS! i've watched helplessly as friends, acquaintances, and family have purchased pets and/or bred them and it just astounds me. buying is stupid anyway! i mean, some people meet the animals at the store before they bring them home, but too many say, "It's a bulldog. My wife wants a bulldog. Ring me up." makes no sense to me! i mean, i understand the love for a breed.. but that's when you have to put a request in with the local shelter and be patient. and no breeding, dammit! i also understand the allure of kittens, but there is just no excuse.. even if you find homes for them, you're preventing other little animals from being adopted by families that want them.
odd looking cat. she's available for adoption at the humane society of the palm beaches, (561) 686-3663 if you're interested.
ed, in case you change your mind: i would love a little cow kitty (like the neighbor one who came in that night).. or a little white one.. or a little grey one.. or a calico.. or anything ugly enough that no one else would want it.. but really, i'd settle for any little cat who let me hold it. :)
too cute to be homeless!
During an exhaustive trip to the Coral Square Mall last night, I had some ideas to improve our mall experiences.
No screaming kids. This is #1 for a reason! If parents insist on bringing their crying, stomping, bawling kids to the mall, then the management should offer some type of Muzzle/Cough Syrup patrol. My lack of empathy for parents of crying children may seem heartless, but the mall is bad enough without them..
Perfumania stores should be located in rooms much like the smoking rooms at airports. Or, I dunno, in
Malls should take upon the holidays as they do hurricanes. This hurricane season, my local Publix was kind enough to set up a makeshift check-out counter with an old-fashioned cash register and a hand-held product scanner. It was 10 items and under and cash only and allowed those of use whose hurricane shopping list consisted of: Beer, Twizzlers to get out of the store in under an hour. Standing in a 30-foot line at J.C. Penney over the weekend, I wondered why the malls don’t grab onto that smart little tactic.
Only one location of store chain per mall. Last night, I made a note that I came in the mall by an FYE store. When I finished shopping, I hunted down the FYE and exited there. My car wasn’t there. After a few minutes wandering around, confused, I went back into the mall and stared at the mall directory. It turns out there was another FYE at the exact opposite end of the mall. That’s just not fair! It took me an hour to get there, which leads me to my next idea:
GPS devices should be standard hand-outs at mall entrances. See, I have a little disability I call an Innate Sense of Misdirection. If I feel I should most definitely go one way to get home from an unfamiliar location, I have realized that I should just turn the opposite way because that will be the correct one. Now put someone like that in a mall, disoriented by the fumes of knockoff Burberry and Cinnabons, and I have no idea where I am. On the trek from one FYE to the other last night, I’d see something interesting (i.e. a plant pot shaped like a coffee mug.. with cats on it. My tastes have gone a strange route since I started liking cats) so make a turn into the store, decide it cost too much, then turn around and walk in exactly the wrong direction. I’d continue on my merry way until something distinct caught my eye: “Hey, I’m pretty sure I just saw that ‘If you can see this, the bitch fell off’ shirt. Damn!” My solution? GPS with turn-by-turn navigation.
Slippers should be considered appropriate attire while shopping. Right? And there should also be bars with to-go cups. The Build-a-Bear would’ve been an even better experience after a couple of margaritas.
I’m going to another mall on Friday, so I’ll probably come up with more then.
did they have to drug this one to get it to sit in the bed? or maybe it's a stuffed cat.
this is how i found suki this morning: asleep in a cardboard box. please note that the blue thing on the chair above her (on the chair! double cushioning!) is the cat bed i bought for them.
please note hummingbird feeder, little witch, and chili pepper. creeeepy!
check it out! the la crosse tribune delivery box of doom!
another time, i talked to the mom from home improvement, patricia richardson. she was pretty nice.
i also had the opportunity to talk to a sci-fi author, orson scott card. i doubt anyone else in the 200-person company would've known who he was, so what luck i got the call! he wrote a book named pastwatch that made me cry for the last 20 pages. such a beautiful past/future this guy dreamed up for us! i had to put him on hold to collect myself.
anyway, while in wisconsin, i was enjoying pasttime #2, hanging out at the bookstore. #1 is eating. i swear, just being in the midwest quadruples your appetite. anyway, so i was in barnes & noble, by the magazines, and saw a guy who looked very much like ron livingston from the corner of my eye. however, i am still in florida mode, where i avert my eyes from contact with any male strangers, lest they approach me, smelling strongly of cologne, and try to get my number while i divide my time between 1) thinking up an excuse to get outta there and 2) wondering if they're mentally deficient or just high.
so i go up to pay and the bookstore girls are whispering excitedly with one another. "has someone spotted a cute customer?" i asked, amused. "no! it's an actor!" "which?" "i dunno.. he was in a movie with brittany murphy..." i have no idea what she was talking about, but i did think that guy looked like... "nuh uh," i interrupted. "you mean the guy from office space?" "yeah!" she exclaimed. "ron livingston." "omigod, i'm going to get his autograph!" she handed me my change and scampered off.
okay, there are some things you have to realize about ron livingston:
1. he was in office space. as a girl who works in an office, this means a lot to me. now when i get possessive about my stapler, i think of that movie and laugh instead of slitting my wrists because THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS COME TO.
2. he looks like my friend, steve.
3. his brother, john, was in mr. wrong as walter. long ago, my friend anna and i (we were 18 or so) used to watch that movie on a near nightly basis, speaking along with the words ("the three-fingered dawn crept slowly up the hills and the foothills...") and cooing over how cute walter was and, "ohmygod, look at his hands!" walter has nice hands.
4. he was on swingers! (by the way, i'm trying to link to that all-too-painful message-leaving scene but am coming up with some mighty disturbing links when i google that.) and sex & the city!
okay, so #3 shouldn't count towards ron, but still! i had my freaking camera with me for once! (other photo opportunities lost include aforementioned kith encounter and a dog on a motorcycle)
so after Shopgirl was done telling him how much she loves brittany murphy, i asked him.. well, stammered to him may be how to say it.. as politely as i could if i could have a picture. amanda did the honors. turns out he was in la crosse for thanksgiving with his sister (no word on walter).
ha ha! i got a picture! i, however, due to unexpected throat-closing nervousness, did not get to tell him how much i love my stapler or how good adaptation was (you'll remember, the agent. who fucked that chick in the ass.), nor did i get inquire about his brother's hands.