It really doesn’t matter what I was dreaming about while I was sleeping. What matters is that during the dream, I was brushing my teeth. I could even taste the toothpaste in my dream, it was that realistic. I don’t think I recall ever tasting anything in a dream before.

Still, it was a little too real when I leaned over the sink (in the dream) to spit. Because I spit all over my pillow for real.

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I don’t know what it was I did to piss off The Internet Gods, but for the past few months I’ve been unable to comment on several of my favorite Wordpress blogs, such as Frectis, Friday Playdate and Slackermama. I’ve always been able to comment on Kim Says, but only if I used that godforsaken IE, which… ugh. But even that seems to be fixed, at least sorta kinda.

There were some blogs that still let me participate. I was still able to enter the contests on Want Not, for example, even if I didn’t win anything. *sob* And I was still able to pop in on Caterwauling, which has the distinction of being the first ever blog I started to read regularly and I’ve still never told its owner how I found her originally. All I know is that I totally hold her responsible for the state of my life as it is now.

I’m not always so good about the link love. I’m going to try harder. I think I’m deliberately putting a little bit of distance between me and some blogs these days because I’m not able to go to BlogHer this year and it’s K-I-L-L-I-N-G me. The closer it gets, the more people talk about it, the more envious I am about not being able to go.

*sigh*

But I will be attending the 2008 Ohio Library Support Staff Institute at the end of July, and I’m looking forward to it. Thanks to our Director of Library Services, I’m able to go for free. (We’re hosting it and we get one free registration.)

And in other news… completely unrelated to anything I’ve already mentioned… tonight marks the return, after TWO LONG YEARS, of The Boyfriend’s band, playing live at the Longhorn Saloon. It’s almost time to start getting my party face on.

I wonder if I have time for a pedicure…

* Apt descriptive title provided by Frectis

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Newsflash! If I’m in the market to get my roof redone, I am NOT going to select the guy who comes knocking on my door, wanting to give me an estimate. In fact, if you show up on my doorstep for any reason, for your sake, I hope I invited you. Because if I didn’t? And I don’t know you? Don’t expect me to be friendly. Don’t expect me to listen to your little speech. This may be what you do for a living*, but when you interpret my open front door as a potential sale, rather than the access to fresh air that was intended, as far as I’m concerned? You’re trespassing.

Now stop looking in my screen door and get the hell off my land!

*Also, you religious types who feel the need to preach to me? I’m already going to hell, so please go “save” someone else. Thankyouverymuch.

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** UPDATE :  My friend is alive and well and had been meaning to write even before I wrote this post. You are forgiven, friend. Not that there was anything to forgive, but hey, if you mention guilt, I think it’s only fair to mention forgiveness.  :)  **

Soooooo…. let’s say you had a friend. And let’s say that the friend was rather notorious for not staying in touch with various other people, but that you and said friend had always maintained pretty good contact with each other. And let’s say that the friend came into town for a visit and that when you said goodbye at the airport the next day, it was the last time you ever heard from the friend. No email to say the flight was ok. Nothing.

And then let’s say that you emailed the friend a little while after that and never received a response.

And then months went by. And still nothing. Even when you referenced the friend in a blog post, something that generally at least elicited an email from said friend in the past.

So, you decided to try again and send another, “Are you alive?” type emails, to which you again have received no response.

What of the following options would YOU choose?

A) Assume friend is now including you in group of people rarely contacted

B) Assume friend is dead and mourn appropriately

C) Assume friend no longer wants to be friend and mourn appropriately

The thing is, option C just doesn’t sound like my friend. But who knows? Maybe I didn’t know my friend as well as I thought I did. Still, I’m leaning toward option A. I’m just a little surprised that I didn’t get a quick “helloI’mstillherejustreallybusy” kind of reply.

Notice I’m really not devoting any time at all to Option B. I’m pretty sure I’d have heard something by now.

Oh well. Seeing as this post is “sooooo junior high,” if my friend is reading this… YOU’RE A DORK! EMAIL ME, YOU DORK!

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I’m in one of the modes where I have all SORTS of things that I want to blog about, but there are so many that they’re all spinning around in my head and overwhelming me, so that all I’m really capable of doing is collapsing into a heap on the floor.

I’m aggravated (big surprise there, eh?), amused and feeling guilty all at once. And then some.

The guilt comes from the fact that I haven’t talked to my dad since the night my mom arrived. I want to call him, but then I’ll feel guilty for not going out to visit him and quite frankly, I can’t afford the gas right now. I can’t afford to get my hair cut either, which I also usually do when I’m out there since my stepsister is the one who does it. But alas! I go without seeing Dad AND I do so with long, shaggy, unmanageable hair.  It’s a real bitch.

So, Dad? If you’re reading this, HI! Sorry you haven’t heard from me. It’s the guilt. Having said that, now you’ll probably  call me and work that guilt trip a little more. And I’d deserve it. (But I’m screening my calls, HAH! Just kidding. You know I’ll pick up.)

I’m aggravated because… oh really, there are so, so many reasons. Local politics. National politics. Having a sister who has experienced bigotry indirectly firsthand, since her husband looks Latino, and yet finding out that she’s opposed to having Obama as president because (in so many words) it might cause an uprising among the black voters. HUH? You’ve been a collateral victim of racism and yet, it’s ok to be racist? (Incidentally? My view is that it’s NEVER ok to be racist. Are we clear on that?)

Having another sister who has made pretty much NO effort to spend any time with my mom, without being prodded. Having that same sister attempt to get me to visit a church that “has a great message.” And when I started my response, I was met with a “I knew it. Preconceived notions.”

Excuse me? Isn’t that essentially what YOU just demonstrated? And can I finish my sentence?

I did go on to try to explain my position on organized religion. I think spirituality is a very personal thing, and personally I don’t have much use for the particular church she mentioned seeing as I’m acquainted with several of its members and we definitely don’t agree on some important core issues. And it bothers me more than a little that my sister might fall into that category as well.

But hey, nothing is for certain right?

Except for the thing that is amusing me today. We have declared today to be National Bite in the Ass Day. You know what I’m talking about right? When you go out of your way to be nice to someone and it just comes back to bite you in the ass? Yeah. That’s today. We’re hoping that Google will come up with some clever little graphic for it, something along the lines of two nekkid butts being chased by Pacmans. With fangs.

Chomp.

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You may have noticed I haven’t been around much lately. No? Well, there is that possibility as well.

It’s not that Zola is keeping me hopping (though she DOES have her moments) or that I’m so crazy busy with work or even that my mom is consuming all of my free time. If you’d seen us yesterday, in completely separate rooms for the majority of the day, you’d know that one isn’t true right off the bat.

The truth is, I went to the doctor a couple of weeks ago for a follow-up visit and to get the results of my blood tests. My cholesterol was good and my glucose was excellent, but it turns out I have hypothyroidism. Huh. Who knew?

He rattled off a list of symptoms which I quickly discounted and then I went home and researched it some more and started wondering. Several of the things on the list could conceivably be blamed on the normal aging process. Perhaps all this time it’s been my thyroid instead?

He put me on medication and I have to say that I’m feeling better. More energetic. Less irritable and definitely less apt to wallow in self-pity. I’ve actually been getting things done around my house. Yesterday morning, I went out in the horrible heat and humidity and thinned out my day lilies, digging out the rest of the grassy area next to my garage, where I want the day lilies to fill in and digging up and replanting a half dozen of the plants. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while, and just haven’t had the motivation. And yet, there I was, in action - and on a day where lifting even a finger resulted in near dehydration.

And there have been numerous other things that I have attempted. Saturday morning found me cleaning the living room and dining room. Both are now presentable for company, which is good because I’ll have some of that on Wednesday when Kat brings Miss Laurel over to meet my mom and the diva kitty. I’m sorry, make that The Diva Kitty.

So, apparently, I’m feeling better when I didn’t even realize I wasn’t feeling great. Again, who knew?

In other news, Zola goes back to the vet today. Please cross your fingers that she’s not pregnant. Because there are ominous signs that she is….

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My mom is coming up from SC tomorrow, to visit various friends and relatives for a month. She’ll be with me initially, but I’m not sure how long she’ll actually be here.

In preparation for her visit, I’ve been slowly trying to put my house back together again for the first time since JL came home from camp last fall. In the process, I’ve damn near had an asthma attack with all the cat hair and dust I’ve managed to kick up. Mom is no more of a housekeeping genius than I am, so I’m not terribly worried about her reaction when she gets here. This is, quite frankly, more for me than for her.

I miss the days of chat challenges. I used to be on this discussion group (still am, but I never visit the website anymore) where occasionally, a couple of us would get on AIM and set timers for 15 minutes, then go off and see what we could get accomplished in the meantime. When we came back, we’d tell each other what we managed to get done. Some people scoffed at the idea, wondering aloud how I knew the other person was actually doing anything. Clearly, they didn’t grasp the concept. The only purpose the other person had was to provide the “Atta girl” feedback that was sometimes needed to keep going. The main focus was keeping myself accountable. And sure, I could have provided a fake list of things I’d done. But talk about a waste of time! I can certainly think of better things to say while IM’ing than, “I did a load of laundry, swept the kitchen floor and unloaded the dishwasher.”

I have two minutes left of my 15 minute break before I move on to the next group of tasks. It’s not a chat challenge, but it’s the best I can do for now.

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I would just like to wish Kat the happiest of birthdays - and not only because I take great joy in knowing that she turns 42 a full month and 11 days before I do.

But also because she is the bestest ex-stepsister I could ever have. And she knows that the “ex” and the “step” part mean absolutely nothing. She is my sister and she is my longest long-term friend, for the last 33 years.

Holy hell are we old….

Love ya, Kat! (And Laurel too!)

P.S.  -  Remember, Kat, that my dad reads this too. So as old as we feel, he’s feeling even older. Hehe… (Love ya too, Dad!)

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So, our little diva escaped the other day. The Boyfriend was getting ready to leave for work and when he opened up the front door, she was out like a shot. He immediately went into panic mode and started to chase her. BAD IDEA.

It was a nice day and because of that, Princess, TOTO and I had decided to walk somewhere off campus for lunch. We were having a great time, right up until the moment where I returned to my office to find two frantic messages from The Boyfriend. I started to FREAK OUT because all I could think about was that I just spent $165 on tests and vaccinations and now she’d escaped. According to The Boyfriend, she’d headed straight for her old house. I had visions of the asshats coming back to suddenly reclaim their abandoned cats and me needing to fight them for custody of Zola.

Fortunately, it didn’t come to that. I got home, grabbed the bag of kitty treats and started calling for her. And then I waited. She finally showed up next to the asshats’ house, right by their next door neighbor’s car. I calmly approached her and asked her if she wanted treats. She sauntered in my direction, but just before I could snatch her up, a UPS truck rolled by and scared her off again. But the treats brought her back and before she even knew what was happening, she was back in the living room of her NEW house, munching happily away.

When JM got home from work a short time later, we ran up to Pet Supplies Plus and bought, among other things, a hot pink collar with a bell on it. She looks so adorable with it on! Not only that, it gives us an idea where she’s at if we can’t see her and we’re headed toward a door. But she hasn’t even tried to get out since The Great Escape. Perhaps she realized once and for all that being here is living the good life?

Today, Alex and Zola touched noses for the first time since they’ve met. The protesting still takes place, but it has lessened considerably. I think they’re doing really well considering it hasn’t even been a week since they were introduced. The Boyfriend thinks that Alex will end up adoring her. He might be right. She’s kinda hard not to love.

Especially when she does things like earlier this evening: JM had taken her collar off to put on a tag that we registered. When he had it attached, he held up the collar to see how it looked and she ran over to him, as if to say, “Hey! That’s MINE!” And then she offered no resistance at all when we put it back on her. I think she knows how good a look it is for her.

Diva might not be far from the truth with this one…

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Zola went to the vet for the very first time today. It was with great trepidation that I awaited the results of her feline leukemia test. After just a few days with this sweet girl, I have become attached to her. It also didn’t help that we were in the same exam room where I said goodbye to my beautiful Mickey. I only almost cried once, though.

Feline leukemia was negative, though she did test positive for a tapeworm parasite. She was treated for that in the office and will have a follow up in a few weeks. While we were there, they clipped her nails and she received her first vaccination for distemper.

The car ride there wasn’t horrible, because she was in the carrier. But she definitely did NOT care for the carrier at all. She scratched and clawed and dug the at the floor and the sides - to no avail of course. But at the vet’s office itself, she was a total trooper. Not one complaint except for a sore claw spot that they figure she got caught on something. She didn’t flinch at the shot and while she didn’t really enjoy the de-worming pill, she took it like an old pro. Not bad for a cat who had never seen a vet before.

He estimates that she is about seven or eight months old, which would put her at about twice the age Mickey was when we got her. But Zola is about the same size as Mickey was. I expect she’ll be rather petite.

So, today was a good day for her. She’s adapting to her new home quite well. Just now, a guy strolled down the street with two dogs that were barking loudly and constantly. And Miss Zola, crashed out on the floor next to my chair, never even moved. She knows she’s safe at home.

Mickey would be pleased.

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