Thursday, February 27, 2014

It's not just SOCHI....






Knowing the issues I've had with restrooms (see Ode to the Commode and Ode to the Commode - Number Two), all the photos I saw coming out of the Olympics had me chuckling.  I mean seriously, I LIVE this experience ALL THE TIME, here in AMERICA.  Cause THAT happens.

Last year I had a flat tire, and spent TWO HOURS waiting for AAA.  There were four women in the vehicle.  Two of them were menstruating, and all of them had finished off large sodas from the last gas station.  We had to pee - bad.  We could see the exit about a mile up the road, but didn't want to venture on the busy freeway or leave the vehicle unattended.  So when we finally get to leave, we tear down the road to the first available bathroom, which looked like this...


And recently my daughter and I had this rest area bathroom awkwardness:


The year is early yet!  There WILL be more to come!

Why I love a serial killer...






We have never been cat people.  We've had dogs, fish, lots of kids, etc.  But NEVER a cat.  Then 12 years ago that changed.  A cat broke into our house.  A kitten really; not even 9 months old.  But we couldn't figure out how she got in. So we tossed her out.  And she got back in again.  And again.  We even moved and she stayed.  Finally, after being told by many that she wouldn't leave because she had adopted us, we kept her.  

The Serial Killer, now known by the benign name of Freckles, was grateful.  So she brought us "gifts". Lots of gifts.  Unwanted, completely disemboweled gifts.  Every. Day.  Rats, squirrels, chipmunks, snakes, lizards, birds, bunnies - the only profile was that if she could kill it, she did.  The line in the sand was finally drawn when she brought me a opossum.   There is no fear like having the dead opossum on the end of a shovel to take out of your house.  Is it dead? It is playing dead? How did she get it through the cat door?  At this point we took away her cat door, and boy was she angry.  Gone were the gifts. Nose in the air, she wouldn't even look at us, except to meow at the door to let her out - then let her back in five minutes later.  She trained everyone - us, friends, neighbors - we are all at her beck and call.  We are now her slaves.

Along the way, against our will, we fell in love with this cat.  Even though death lay in her wake (I mean, seriously killing over 300 things a year THAT WE FOUND), we find that we love her like one of the family.  Now she is an old lady cat - laying around sleeping almost all the time, except for those times when she "remembers" that she is a cat, and does some crazy cat thing like leap 10 feet onto a railing.  But - isn't she cute?