and for today's entertainment, boys and girls:
How to wash the cat, author unknown.
Thoroughly clean the toilet. Add the required amount of shampoo to the toilet water, and have both lids lifted. Obtain the cat and soothe him while you carry him towards the bathroom.
In one smooth movement, put the cat in the toilet and close both lids (you may need to stand on the lid so that he cannot escape).
Do not get any part of your body too close to the edge, as his paws will be reaching out for any purchase they can find.
Flush the toilet three or four times, which I have found to be quite effective.
Have someone open the door to the outside and ensure that there are no people between the toilet and the outside door.
Stand behind the toilet as far as you can, and quickly lift both lids. The now-clean cat will rocket out of the toilet, and run outside where he will dry himself.
caught up with my landlord today, and emphasized that i'm really not all that keen on watching my money run down the drain as he delays repairing the faucet. get this - he says it's his money. and so, you would be delaying this why? huh? if you really don't have time to do it yourself, hire someone, for fuck's sake! your water bill was astronomical last month, as was my heating bill, and the cost of a plumber has got to be less than the money you'll save once the repair is done. eh.
i'm so paying for my trip to the gym... in the form of a particularly painful reminder this morning of how out of shape i am. it was physically uncomfortable to get out of bed to shut off the alarm, which is on the other side of the room, where i moved it a few months ago. for all i know, that odd sound was my cats laughing at me as i doubled over and hobbled across the room. ChicaBeanie called this morning to beg off, and i was more than happy to crawl back into bed. when i finally did get up, it kinda made me wonder what time she had called, as it was before the alarm which was set for 7, and if i had been in the least bit coherent. if i know someone is going to call in the morning, i tend to leave the phone next to me on the bed. this, of course, means that i barely need to be awake to answer it. could make for some interesting conversations...
got all my bills squared away today, so i'm good to go for the next little while. there's actually a comfortable amount of money left in my account. oddly, the desire i have to spend money is inversely proportional to the amount of money available to be spent. i don't know how this works, but if i only have a few dollars left to tide me over to the next paycheck, i can think of 18 or 20 things that i *need* to buy, right now. life will cease to function without these objects......often, Q-tips or a new pair of shoes. on the other hand, if there's a reasonable buffer in there, i'm much more cautious about spending. rather than just running out and buying toys for myself, or going out for dinner instead of eating in, i weigh the relative importance of the thing to be purchased, and see if i reeeaaaaalllly need to spend the money. why is this? shouldn't it be the other way around? i should be wise about how i spend my money at all times, but more so when it's on the scarce side. that's just the logical way to go. ask my friends - my middle name really should be logical. (but it isn't ... it's john.) and yet... and yet. i just haven't gotten around to being that much of an adult yet. maybe i never will.
got a nice little note from one of my readers today, who asked about the origins of the journal's name, the danish outpost. it wasn't exactly a clearly thought out choice. i was in the process of setting up the journal, and that's what came out. i've always adored Shakespeare; Hamlet and Lear are probably the two i like the most. the journal is an outpost of sorts, and the danish bit goes nicely with the email name (ms. ophelia). not a terribly exciting explanation, but there you have it. what struck me as funny about his question was that he said the name confused him a bit, as i'm clearly American. huh? well, yes. but how did that come across? local references? (doesn't mean i'm from here) did he read the bio? or does my screamingly New England accent come thru, even in my writing? it's that last option that scares me. 8)