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Archive for the ‘Irking my nerves’ Category

That title is really really really long, huh?

I have a lot to say, so I’m going to list it to make it easier on me poor addled sleep-deprived brain.  And it ain’t going to be in the order of the title either. 

  1. Why did I get two kittens?  What are their stories?  Why was I even considering getting 1 kitten when I had two fiercely gorgeous bitches at home?  Because I’m a sucker for a sad story and cuteness, that’s why.  The woman, Bobbie, who had given me Roslin, called me 3 weeks ago in a tizzy, telling me that Roslin’s mother had given birth to a litter in her (Bobbie) neighbor’s lawn mower bag.  Bobbie and the neighbor got the kittens and mommy cat situated in a box on Bobbie’s porch.  All seemed well, until that afternoon.  Her town was having a block party and the motorcycles spooked the mommy cat.  She took one of her babies with her and left the other 3.  If you recall, Roslin and her litter mates were abandoned by the same mommy.  Apparently, she’s extremely skittish.*  Hayden was one of the three abandoned by mommy, Nina was the one kitten that the mommy took.  So, Hayden has been hand-fed since day 1.  Bobbie found Nina walking around the backyard last week and brought her in the house.  When I got there, I was coming for only Hayden.  I wanted a boy cat and Bobbie was holding him for me.  But, then I saw him cuddling with Nina.  She looked up at me and I gasped.  Bobbie told me that she had homes for all of the other kittens, but not for Nina.  I just didn’t think and said, “I’ll take both of the babies.”  And that’s how I became a crazy fucking cat lady.  If someone told me a few years ago that I would have this many animals, I would have laughed in their face.  Damn.
  2. And why aren’t people who have multiple dogs mocked and labeled?  I know a lady with 6 dogs and nobody calls her crazy.  Just sayin.
  3. I have to clean my office.  Bad.  You can’t see the top of my desk because of all of the junk in there.  I’m sure nobody cares that I need to clean my office, but writing it hear seems like a promise to myself.  It’s written down, so now I must do it.  Or something like that.  I’m sure I’ll put it off another week or two.
  4. I think I’m going to start recording podcasts again.  They were fun and maybe I can talk some of my friends and family members to be guests.  I’ll talk my sister into it tonight.  Now, if only I could remember how to post the podcasts…
  5. Oh, and I found a webcam in my desk drawer.  How long have I had it…who the hell knows?  I’m not even sure if it’s a good one.  It’s probably one of those webcams that has a delay by a second or ten and the playback is like watching a record skip.  And the audio is out of time with the visual.  I’ll have to check it out.  Maybe I can show you how big of a bitch Stella Marie is.
  6. Oh, Stella Marie.  She is pissed.  I mean, PISSED!!!!!!!!!!  She is all like, “What the fuck is in that bathroom moving around? Why must you do this to me?  I am a spoiled brat and don’t want to share you with anyone?  It’s bad enough you brought that pain in the ass Roslin home…two more?  Bitch, I will claw you until you scream.”  Roslin is so scared of Stella that I had to accompany her to use the litter box.  Yes, I had to stand there while she pooped and Stella hissed like a fucking mental case.  And let’s not even talk about my lack of sleep because of Stella Marie’s hissing, spitting, yowling, growling, and screaming.  Such. A. Drama. Queen.  I told her yesterday that she might as well get all of that foolishness out of her system right now, because the kitties are staying.  She turned her back to me and walked away growling.  She had dingle-berries on her butt, so that kind of diminished her haughtiness.  Of course, I had to cut them out.  So, I guess in some strange way she won that argument.  She certainly wasn’t wiping my ass.
  7. I have to cook cook cook for my mother’s party tomorrow.  She graduated from college, yay, and we’re throwing a gigantic party.  I hate the prep, but it’s so worth it in the end.  It should be a great time.  I’ll try to take some pictures.  All of my stinkies (Morgan, Connor, Rylee, and Colin) will be there. 
  8. Morgan wants a kitten and is coming to visit me today to see my babies.  My sister-in-law promised that if Morgan made the principle’s list she would be able to get a kitten.  She already told me that she’d name that kitten Keira or Zoe.  I asked her, “What if it’s a boy?”  She cocked her head and gave me a raised brow, “Aunt Debbie, I don’t want a boy cat.  How can I have a secret club for girls and have a boy cat?”  Makes perfect sense.
  9. Blog Drama.  Or better yet, Blogworld Drama or whatever you want to call it.  I’ve read about 5 posts in the past day dealing with it and I’m like, what the hell, and creeped out.  Does anyone take this blog shit (or life!) that seriously?  I mean, come on people.  It’s the one way you can be sure I will lose my interest in your blog, write about blog drama or posts dedicated to haters or whatever.  I used to do that and then I realized that it was retarded.  So retarded.  I have haters and I don’t give a shit if they come to my blog 100 times a day.  Happy reading to all, even the people who hate me.  Maybe that’s why my blog isn’t as popular as it used to be.  I don’t care about the blogdrama crap and I’m certainly not signing up for that club.  It’s so tedious and middle school and I have better things to do, like clean my office or learn ninja moves or poopy-scoop 4 litter boxes or masturbate or clean my bellybutton.  When I read a blog, I want to hear about a person’s days or thoughts on politics or how good he/she were fucked the night before or some creative stories or something that challenges my believe system and makes me go and learn something new…that type of shit.  Who buys into this form of Blogs of Our Lives bullshit?  It’s kind of disturbing.  Stop it.  Stop writing about it.  You’ll be happier.
  10. I just realized that my whole family will be at my mom’s tomorrow for the party.  Oy vey. 

*Mommy cat was fixed last week, thankfully.

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I had one of the most mundane wonderful weekends ever. I love the low excitement, regular life stuff.

I took Friday off to do spring cleaning. I cleaned my whole place and my porch. I bought a new shower curtain and rugs for the bathroom. I bought a new springtime flag and a pretty sign to hang on my door that say “Love to all who enter here”. Yes, I’m corny like that. Here are some pictures.


Yesterday, I bought some birdseed and wild animal feed.  I spread it around the front and side yard and have enjoyed watching the squirrels and birds go crazy.  I like feeding the wildlife.  Some people get pissed off about it, but I say screw them.  It makes me happy to hear the birds chirping and the squirrels fed.

I did laundry this morning and I have to say, probably for the 1000’th time, that I hate the laundry mat.  Hate hate hate it..  I do my laundry every two weeks.  This includes clothing, towels, and sheets.  I usually take up about 6 washers.  I get there today and it’s crazy busy.  I load up the washers and sit down to wait.  A younger man and his mother are loading up dryers near me and he starts yelling at her.  Calling her a fucking liar and how if she died he wouldn’t fucking care.  He kept repeating, “I wouldn’t even fucking care.”  I shot him a dirty look which he caught.  After a while, I loaded the dryers and sat back down.  A young Mexican woman sat down next to me with a baby.  I smiled at her and she smiled at me.  I happy to inform you, my wonderful readers, that she had her canine teeth capped with vampire fangs that had gold stripes going down them.  Fucking classy, right?

My aunt got some bad news recently.  I seems that some of her tumors have grown.  She’s been in a lot of pain and they put her on morphine.  I’ve been around cancer to know what this means.  She’s coming to NJ to visit in two weeks and I have to make the most of the visit.  I have to be honest with myself and admit that it might be the last time I see her.

I’m watching No Country for Old Men and it’s good, except I’ve come to realize that the older I get the more I can’t deal with these violent movies.  I don’t want to watch them, it makes me sick and disturbs me.  And I can’t take all of the animals being killed.  I know they really weren’t killed, but I don’t want to think about it.

I suppose my sister is doing okay.  I haven’t heard anything.  My dad hasn’t called me since she got out of the hospital.  I guess he doesn’t need me.  I asked him to give me her address and a telephone number where I could reach her.  And I’m still waiting.  Nice, huh?

And lastly, I hate cell phones.  I hate when people call me on my cell to tell me stupid shit or to just talk.  I have a home line and when I’m not home, leave me a fucking message.  Unless it’s an emergency or if you need me to pick something up for you or something like that, there is no reason to disturb me while I’m shopping or driving.  I have no desire to talk on the phone in front of strangers.  Again, leave a message on my home answering machine and I’ll call you back.  I know it’s old school, but I like it that way.

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Here’s one of my famous numbered lists. I haven’t done a random thoughts post in a very long time, but there’s some shit I need to work out on this here blog.

  1. Is it wrong to want to kill everyone in Kmart? I went to Kfart this evening to pick up some stuff and it was like a retard parade. Retards with their kids running all over the fucking store, banging into me, stepping on my feet, and getting in my way. Listen, I love kids. I really do. I hope to have a few stinkies myself, but holy shit. Keep them under control. Oh, and when someone says ‘excuse me’ it means they have to get by you. This sometimes means that you need to move your ass. It’s not the other person’s fault if you are too fat to move to the side. Either hurry the fuck up with whatever you’re doing or back the fuck up so that the other person can get by. Seriously.
  2. I understand that there are some of us in the blog world who have lots of readers and comments and whatnot. But I think it’s ridiculous to act like a pompous bastard because of this. Especially when you haven’t been on your game for several months. You’re just writing about boring shit and inside jokes that no one gets or cares about. And all of your readers are just little ‘Heathers’ agreeing with everything you say and telling you how funny you are and how cute you are and how cool you are and how you’re just the bestest and……………FUCK. I’m sorry to say that I’m bored to tears by you lately. And those followers of yours are even more boring than you are. It’s a shame because I once loved you and now I’m at a loss at what to say. You’re slipping, my friend. Get off your high horse and start writing like you might have some people left to impress. Cockiness is one of the ugliest traits a person can have and trust me when I say that it doesn’t look good on you. I hate to be the one to tell you that you are not the best at what you do. The title of this post was for you…come on down off of there. I’m dead serious. You’re becoming tedious.
  3. After I finish reading the Harry Potter series again, I’m on book 5, I have to take a seriously long break. I have a pile of books to read that is higher than my bedside lamp. I just keep buying books and books and books, and then they sit there because I decided to read Harry Potter from start to finish. Sigh.
  4. I drove by a house today and they already had Christmas decorations up. I made a face as I drove by and said “Fuck you”. I also gave the house the finger when coming home. I feel that my job is done for now, but I will continue to give the house the finger until Thanksgiving. I felt like egging them. Or the good old poo in a fire bag prank. I’m too lazy to do either, but I got a good chuckle thinking about it.
  5. I’ve been having the weirdest dreams lately. Stranger still is the fact that I can remember these dreams when I first wake up and then cannot seem to recall them hours later.
  6. One of my exes keeps writing to me that we should get together for some ‘fun’. Why don’t people just come right out and say, “Wanna get together and fuck with no strings or commitments?” I find I take offense any time a guy writes that he wants to have fun or thinks I’m fun. It’s the same with calling me sexy or cutie or shit like that. You know how they do….”Hey Sexy, you sound like a lot of fun.” Nothing dries me up quicker. My name is Debbie. Miss Debbie if you’re nasty. Hee hee…I just made myself laugh.
  7. God, my feet look good.
  8. I’m watching the Wizard of Oz right now and I love it.
  9. Is it just me or do you think that Tom Cruise makes whatever movie he’s in a little worse? I want to see Lions for Lambs. I think it looks like a great movie and yet Tom Cruise is in it and I just know that every time he’s in a scene I’ll want to give the screen the finger. He should retire.
  10. And finally, I have to say that writing a book is difficult. Not the whole writing part, but the being honest part. I’m not going to talk about what my book is about, but there are moments when the main character is so much me that I get overcome with emotion. The more I write and uncover, the more I have to look inward. Even more than I already do. It’s always worth it though.

That’s all for now. I posted a video of one of my favorite songs below to make up for yesterday’s lack of a post. I’m really trying to keep my promise.

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my. Put’em up, put’em up.

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Today was my big appointment with the vascular surgeon for my varicose vein.

First off, the surgeon was fucking hot. Seriously, panties wet hot. I hate hot doctors. I only want ugly doctors because I have a hard time not smiling and flirting with the hot ones.

Anyhow, the good news is that he doesn’t think I need to have surgery yet. We’re going to try sclerotherapy first. Unfortunately, insurance companies give people a bunch of trouble for this procedure because they think it’s a cosmetic procedure. But, what as ugly as the veins are, I want these veins gone because they are painful. My legs ache. They feel heavy. The veins are throbbing fiery strips of pain. Fuck the insurance company.

So, this sclerotherapy is going to cost me $320 to get done. And that’s for one visit. Hopefully I can convince my insurance company to pick up some of the cost. But even if they don’t, I have to have the procedure. I’m sick of living with pain.

I also have to wear compression stockings. I don’t know how long I’ll have to wear the stockings, but this will also be hell. I hate stockings. I hardly ever wear them. I know they have compression thigh highs available, but my vein starts up too high on my thigh to wear them. My temple is pissed. I wore the stockings today and my crotch was screaming….gasp cough cough gasp…AIR. My crotch needs air people. It’s not too much to ask, is it?

Oh, and the compression stockings cost $70. I was told that my insurance company will take care of some of the cost, so that’s a good thing. But a girl needs more than one pair of stockings. So, I will be hunting around the internet looking for some cheaper compression stockings.

Fun times, huh?

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After another day of sweating my balls off here. My landlady called me this afternoon and the air conditioning man will be here tomorrow morning to fix my shit. I can’t wait. I almost offered for suck the guy’s dick, if that would get him here sooner. I didn’t though, cause I’m a classy bitch.

At the moment, we’re having very violent thunder storms and it’s made it cool. Stella is running around with relief. The sweat has stopped rolling between my boobs. My sweat dampened hair is actually drying. It’s heavenly.

This morning, I cleaned off my bike and pumped up the tires in hopes of going for a nice long bike ride. Guess what? It’s fucking hard to ride a bike in a hilly town in the fucking hot ass humid hazy weather. I did ride for 3o minutes before I had to stop to get a drink. My crotch was also killing me. I have a cushioned seat and my temple (yes, that’s what I call my crotch) still felt bruised. I’m done riding for a few days.

So, I put my bike back into my garage and shut the door.

About 2 hours later, I went outside because I had just remembered that I left my keys and cell phone in my bike bag. I walked into the backyard and saw my garage open and my bike is moved. Motherfucker. I got my stuff out of the bag and went to close the garage door when Mullet (my downstairs neighbor) tells me to leave the door open.

Um, what? It’s my fucking garage. So, I told him as much and then my lady downstairs neighbor yells asking me why I need to door shut. I told them I just washed my bike and I want the door shut. It’s my garage. He tells me the garage gets too hot and he’s airing it out. Too hot for whom or what. What’s in there in danger of melting? Nothing. He’s just being an ass. I told them that I’m in no mood to deal with their drunk asses, that the garage is mine and it’s staying shut.

I’m putting a lock on that thing tomorrow.

I had a chance to get laid on Friday, woo hoo. One of my exes, Sam, emailed me and graciously offered to have some ‘fun’ with me. Honestly. What is wrong with men? I haven’t dated this guy in about 4 years and we only dated briefly at that. He said he saw my friend at a bar and she, I’m going to kill her, gave him my email address. So um, now he’s emailing to get a quick fuck? Eh. Eh. Eh. Nothing turns me off more. At least offer me a nice dinner first.

Besides, he wasn’t that good of a fuck anyhow. Sloppy son of a bitch.

I went to my dad’s yesterday for dinner. It was nice in the beginning, but then I had to listen to his girlfriend put him down to me every time he left our presence. And then she kept interrupting him and arguing with him while we were having a conversation. I’ve been staying away from them because of this, but I hate that she is so rude and demeaning to my dad. Who the fuck does she think she is? I’ve tried to talk to my dad about this, but he just says that he loves her. When did my dad become such a pussy? I want to shake him until he comes to his senses.

Starting June 1, I will be going gluten free. My doctor has recommended it. I don’t think it’s going to be that big a deal, I never eat premade things (I make everything from scratch)…I can still make bagels and bread and stuff because they make flours and yeast and other products that are gluten free. I think the weirdest thing will be the change in pasta. I will now have to eat rice pasta, which I love but I’ve never used it in Italian food. I’m hoping this will be a positive change. I’ll let you all know.

I wish I had more to say, but I’m drained from the heat and I really haven’t done anything exciting.

UPDATE: The air conditioner is fixed. Sweet heaven, it feels beautiful in here. I’m going to take a nap now.

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I’d post more, but I’m too fucking hot. My central air unit isn’t working and my landlady can’t get anyone to come out and fix it this weekend. It’s 90 degrees in my apartment, with 5 fans going. Stella Marie is just laying here in front of a fan. She’s a Maine Coon with two layers of fur. Poor baby.

I am sweating my ass off. I don’t feel like eating. I don’t feel like doing anything. I’m totally drained. The weather isn’t supposed to break until Monday. Fucking sucks.

Eh.

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I’m getting over my cold. Thank you all for your well wishes. I appreciate it. I’m at the stage now where I’m constantly blowing my nose. I’m not sure where all of the snot is coming from, but I must have expelled a pound of it from my sinuses today. Gross? Yup. My cubicle neighbor, L, asked me what color it was at one point. I told her it was light yellow. She almost fell off her seat laughing. She didn’t expect me to tell her.

I’m extremely busy at work right now. In addition to my 3 monthly publications, I have 2 supplements that will be publishing in March. So, that’s 5 issues and 700 pages that I’m going to have to edit, manage, proof, and get published. That’s not including ad layouts and all of the questions and bullshit. And I love it.

I went to a diner with my mom tonight and as we were sitting there I got the overwhelming urge to pick up the squeeze bottle of ketchup and squirt it at someone. I told my mom and she looked worried. We both ordered chicken cheese steak wraps. As we’re eating, my mom asks me if I like it and I say, “Chicken, cheese, onions, peppers, and marshmallows. What could be bad about that?” My mom is looking more worried. I ask what’s the matter. “Marshmallows?” she says. I start giggling and say, “I did say marshmallows, didn’t I?” We start eating in silence and I get into a really good stare. You know, the kind where you’re not thinking about anything–you’re just staring. My mom says my name and I yell (it was pretty loud), “What’s going on, Mom?” She starts laughing at me. She asks if I’m okay and I say that I’m tired. This makes her feel a little better.

I got my first birthday presents this weekend. My friend Tim gave me a pair of pretty earrings and a bunch of really gorgeous fairy figurines. I also want to thank Danielle from Maryland for the book. It was really sweet of you to send me a present and I’m very happy you like this blog. I can’t wait to get reading that book. Thanks again.

I’m watching American Idol just now and I’m worried about Paula Abdul. There’s something wrong with her. I don’t even think she’s taking good drugs. Fucking space cadet. Aside from her, this is my favorite part of the show….the auditions. These people are great.

And what’s up with people saying like after every word they speak. I can’t even imitate it here because it irks me so much. And other thing, what’s up with all of the muffin tops I’ve been seeing lately. For those who don’t know what a muffin top is, click here. I see them everywhere. Just buy a bigger pair of pants. It’s got to be uncomfortable.

Okay, here’s what a contestant just said to the judges on why she should be picked after she acted like the Cowardly Lion and sang ‘If I Were King of the Forest” exactly like said lion, “Because I’m like the mostest different person here.” I worry. I do.

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