smooshed whoopie

Posted on November 2, 2005 by Cindy

First, a blog note. I’m trying out a few new features to get rid of this one dude who keeps leaving dozens upon dozens of spam comments on my old entries. (And it is one dude, I’ve traced his IP address.) Anyway, since he’s always “anonymous,” one of the things I changed is that you now have to fill out your name and email address to leave a comment. It won’t be displayed and I’m the only one who sees it, but if you’re worried that I’m going to spam you (ha!), you can say that it’s blah@blah.com. I don’t care if it’s a valid email address or not, I’m just hoping it’ll get rid of Mr. Anonymous.

So, a couple of weeks ago there was a discussion on Angie’s blog about a delicacy in Pennsylvania called the whoopie pie. Being the southern-girl-transplanted-to-the-northwest that I am, I had never heard of these or tried them. So Angie, being the sweetheart that she is, mailed a few of them to Dave and me to try. And may I just say how awesome it is to find dessert in your mailbox? I think all bill collectors should start utilizing this tactic immediately, because if they mailed me sugary goodness along with their invoices, I’d be much more inclined to open them promptly. However, if you clicked on Angie’s blog, you probably saw the photo of what whoopie pies are supposed to look like, and by the time we received ours, they were a little bit squashed. Witness:

I know, they look pretty bad (damn you, careless post office employees!), but it really had no affect on their taste whatsoever. They are still all wonderful cakey-and-ultra-gooey-frosting yumminess, as evidenced by the fact that by the time we got the camera out, one of the whoopie pies (the chocolate one) had already disappeared. And Angie, you’re right, they are nothing like moon pies. I’m not sure which one is better – I mean, I do love my moon pies, after all. I think I’ll have to eat a few dozen more of each to be able to properly give an informed opinion.

This is actually not the first out-of-her-way super-nice thing Angie has done for us. She also used this photo that I took (that’s the same mountain in the banner on this page), jazzed up the color and gave us a great 8×10 print of it, which has since been framed and hung up in our front hall. And of course, I am a horrible person and never sent her a thank-you note (much like the several other dozen people who gave us wedding presents who I haven’t mailed thank-you notes to either, and yes, I feel very very guilty about that, and if you’re one of the people who hasn’t gotten one, I swear that you will somewhere before the end of time, it’s just a matter of when I can get off my lazy ass to write them). So this entry is sort of my little Angie shout-out. But really: I will send you something nice in the mail someday, I promise.

the cats are plotting our demise, I just know it

Posted on November 1, 2005 by Cindy

It seems that since the weather has started to get rather nippy lately, the cats have all started looking for warm places to sleep. They like curling up near the heating vents on the floor, fleece blankets, that type of thing. However, Cleo has apparently decided that my laptop keyboard is the perfect warm place to nap. So then, when I come back to my computer, my browser view settings are all weird, there are usually a few help or search windows open, and she often hits my wireless button so I get knocked offline. (The first time that happened, I spent hours trying to figure out how she changed my network authentication key, resetting our wireless router and the satellite modem, and generally tearing my hair out before I finally realized that it was just the one stupid “wireless on/off” button. Duh.) Anyway, today she managed to open a notepad file (no idea how she did that) and this was what she typed:

lNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNnnnnnnnnnnn nnnnnnnn99999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999 9999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999999n2gtfr88 88888888888888888888888888888888888igyhdddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd dddddddddddddddddd

That’s exactly what it said, I’ve copied and pasted directly for your viewing pleasure (minus 50 or so rows of d’s, because I think you get the point). I’m guessing this is some kind of kitty morse code, and if anyone out there can translate it for me, I’d be most appreciative. In the meantime, I’m just going to try to remember to close the damn lid on my laptop when I step away from the computer.

whine sneeze cough whine repeat

Posted on October 30, 2005 by Cindy

Our Halloween plans (see freak parade, below) didn’t happen because Dave and I both got sick. I have a full-on sinus infection (whee! Thank the baby Jesus for Puffs plus with lotion so my poor widdle nose doesn’t shrivel up and fall off), and I’m not sure what’s up with Dave, but I think he’s caught it from me. Right now he’s just complaining about feeling sort of headache-y and fuzzy. If what I currently have is any indication of what he’s in for, let me just say now: sweetie, I am so sorry. Love, your germy wife.

In other news, this morning I had to delete something like 20 spam comments that had been left on old posts, and they all came from the past 2 days. Very weird. So in light of that, I decided it was time to check up on my web stats. Which means it’s time for another round of, “what search terms are bringing people to this website?”

“fat kid” – Now, that’s just not nice. We won’t have any of that here.

“cougar vs rottweiler” – I might be stupid, but I’ll put my money on the cougar.

“movies shot in duvall wa” – Seriously? Someone filmed a movie here? Who are they, and for the love of God, why? Was it a documentary about goats and alpacas? The mind boggles.

“kris osborn crystal meth” – I don’t know who this Kris Osborn person is, but dude, if people are googling you and your addiction in the same search phrase, it might be time for rehab.

“nouveau duo vegas” – I had no idea that these folks had such a following. I don’t know anything about them or their music, I just thought the sign was hilarious. And I wasn’t even drunk at the time. (Promise. That wasn’t until much later that day.)

“what does raccoon poop look like” – Beats me. But if you want to come investigate my yard, you can probably find plenty of it.

“I never break out with pimples could it be stress related” – I have all kinds of weird symptom-y things that bring people here, which I suppose is normal since I talk about things like zits and whatnot. This one struck me as odd because it’s phrased like the person is asking their search engine a question. Like google is going to come back to them with a sympathetic hand pat and a prescription. Has no one ever heard of a dermatologist? Come on, people!

My personal favorite: “people go poop”. Yes, yes they do. And here we have the exact reason why 7 year-old boys should not be allowed to use computers.

And now, back to our regularly scheduled sniffling and whining.

Tae-Bo for Pets

Posted on October 25, 2005 by Cindy

I had lunch today with Janet, the wife of one of Dave’s co-workers (Gabe). It’s funny, we’ve hung out with them on several occasions, and I like them a lot, but it’s always been couples activities. Janet and I have never done anything that was just the two of us. We’ve had dinner at each other’s houses, we went out with them for Janet’s birthday, they came to our wedding, etc., but the husbands were always there too. So today was good because it was interesting just to sit and talk for a couple of hours, to learn a lot more about her, and to relate to someone who’s kind of in the same general life situation as I am. I think I may finally have a normal female friend here in the Northwest (as opposed to Psycho Krissy, who I don’t even talk to anymore because I can’t take the drama), and that’s a very good thing.

And thanks to Gabe & Janet, we now have plans for Halloween – there’s a funky/hippie neighborhood north of downtown Seattle where there will be a “freak parade” at midnight on Saturday night, and we’re all going. So that should be interesting. I volunteered to be designated driver, because I’m nice like that. Also because I seem to have lost the taste for alcohol over the past couple of months, I just haven’t wanted it much at all. Kind of weird, but not that unusual for me. Anyway, that is bound to be interesting.

In slightly ickier news, the other night I noticed two of our cats (Cleo & Greta) circling one of the chairs in the living room, very interested in something underneath it. Knowing it couldn’t be good, I shooed the cats away and scooted the chair over. Underneath it was a teeny-tiny baby mouse. Now, I know that my mother says that baby mice grow up into big mice, and that I should’ve just let the cats have at it and be done with it, but I’m not that cold-hearted. So I called Dave, and we got a big tupperware thing and tried to trap him under it, so I could set him loose outside. Only as soon as I lowered the tupperware, his terror-paralysis suddenly came to an end and he decided to bolt. I ended up pinning him to the floor with the edge of the container. I tried to pick him up (since I had him trapped), and he bit me. He didn’t break the skin, but it hurt, and I still had a minor freak-out about germs and rabies and whatnot. As soon as I dropped him, he took off. After I finished scrubbing my hands with large amounts of anti-bacterial soap, we found him halfway up the living room curtains (he had scaled them like a cat). So Dave used the tupperware lid to shoo him off the curtains and knock him into the container, and I ran him way out into the far part of the yard to set him loose. And as I dropped him off, I told him to have a long, happy life, and to please never come back into my house. I hope he understood me.

Oh, and more cat news: you know the stray orange kitty who comes around our house to eat our cat food but technically isn’t ours? He used to be friendly with all of our cats, but it seems that all of a sudden, our female cats are scared of him – they run from him, and won’t go outside if they see him out there. Beaumont (our one boy cat) is still buddies with him. I know the orange kitty (and yes, that’s the best nickname I’ve got for him so far – if I give him a name, then he’s sort of ours, and so help me God, we do NOT need a fifth cat) is a male because he’s pretty well “equipped”. That’s the other reason why I’m not crazy about him coming in the house – I’ve seen him spraying trees in the yard, and I really don’t want him to do that to my couch. Anyway, I haven’t got actual proof (just a couple of loud fights in the yard where I witnessed shrubs shaking but didn’t see anything), but I suspect that the reason the girl kitties are scared of him all of a sudden is because he’s trying to mount them. And our girls were fixed when they were babies, so they probably have no idea what the hell he’s doing, or they think he’s attacking them. I told Dave, “I’m not sure if it’s a full-on kitty rape situation, or if it’s just some unsolicited humping.” We later decided that Unsolicited Humping would be a great band name. Or even better, as a sign to hang outside of one’s business. Anyway, since he seems to like coming around our house regularly, I don’t know what to do about that, short of trapping the orange kitty and taking him to get snipped, or getting the girls some kitty self-defense lessons. (Meow means meow!) Any ideas? I’m sort of at a loss here.

Is this a good thing?

Posted on October 20, 2005 by Cindy

Either this is a sign that I have completely lost my mind, or it means that unemployment may have gotten to me: I have now left the house, multiple times, without eye make-up. That’s right. I have done nothing more than slap on some powder and a little lip balm before setting foot out my front door, no mascara or eyeliner or anything. I haven’t been doing my hair either, I’ve just been sticking it in a ponytail or a clip and calling it good. What the hell is wrong with me? This is not me, I’m a southern girl who was raised in a good home, and the “au naturel” look is not who I am. I haven’t left the house without make-up since I was 13 years old.* This has now happened three times, when I was going to such glamorous locales as the supermarket, the video store, and our local teriyaki place (mmm… take-out). So I suppose it’s not a sign of my impending senility yet, since I do still make an effort for things like dinner with friends, or job interviews. Maybe, in a way, it’s a positive thing because it means that I’m less self-conscious about my looks. And I haven’t felt “naked” without my make-up, like I expected I would. So it might not be that terrible.

But also? Lately I’ve only been washing my hair every other day instead of every day. Help me Jesus, I fear I have lost it.

* Ok, that’s not actually true. When I was in college, I caught pink eye from some little brat that I baby-sat for, and I couldn’t wear eye make-up for a week while I took antibiotics. Also, when I lived in Wisconsin, a couple of times I made late-night supermarket runs with no make-up, because hello, it was Wisconsin. Even with no make-up, I’m still pretty hot by their standards. **

** I do have friends from Wisconsin who are absolutely beautiful. The buck-toothed, stringy-haired midwestern girl is a very negative stereotype and I apologize if I offended any potential readers from those states. Unless, you know, you are a buck-toothed, stringy-haired midwestern girl. In which case, go get yourself some good salon-quality shampoo and a decent makeover, and I’m sure you’ll be fine.

I don't think this is what the Velvet Underground had in mind when they said "hey honey, take a walk on the wild side"

Posted on October 18, 2005 by Cindy

I learned on Saturday that I married a liar. Dave and I went for a hike at a nature preserve near our house, and he told me that the trail was about 3 miles long. Now, I know that 3 miles may not seem like much to some of you (like my cousin Miss Triathlon), but I am a wuss, and an out-of-shape wuss at that. So three miles in hilly, rough terrain with my bad knee (and dodging enormous piles o’ poop the whole time, because apparently this is also a trail where a lot of people go horseback riding) seemed like a lot. But it’s been a while since I’ve worked out, so I knew that I needed it, and it seemed do-able. I found out over halfway through it that Dave was full of crap, and the trail was actually FIVE miles long. I don’t know that I’ve ever hiked 5 miles in my life. I wasn’t prepared for that kind of distance, I didn’t even bring a bottle of water with me. And lord, the pain I was in afterward. I couldn’t walk up and down the stairs of our house without making little whiny “ow” noises. I’m proud of myself now for having survived, but I doubt I’ll be doing that again anytime soon.

In “this is another reason why I don’t like living in the boonies” news, our local weekly newspaper had a cover story this week about the fact that there have been several cougar sightings in our area recently. Holy sh*t. One anecdote:

On September 17, also near Duvall, a woman reported she was out working in her flowerbeds hwen six deer came into the yard. A cougar ran right past her chasing them.

The article has a reference to a website that tells you what to do in case you encounter a cougar. Do you know what to do if you see a cougar? Me neither. But I do now. Here’s a partial list of action items, complete with my commentary in italics:

* Stop, stand tall and don’t run. Pick up small children immediately. Running and rapid movements may trigger an attack. Remember, a cougar’s instinct is to chase. [Ok, this makes sense, I’m with them so far.]
* Face the cougar, talk to it firmly and slowly back away. Always leave the animal an escape route. [You want me to talk to it? Really? And forget the cougar’s escape route, what about mine?]
* Try to appear larger than the cougar by getting above it. (e.g., stepping up onto a stump). If wearing a jacket, hold it open to further increase your size. [Right. Talk to it and hold my jacket open so I look thoroughly insane, and scare the cougar off that way. Makes sense.]
* Do not take your eyes off the animal or turn your back. [Um, duh??]
* If the animal does not flee and shows signs of aggression (crouches with ears back, teeth bared, hissing, tail twitching, and hind feet pumping in preparation to jump), be more assertive. [Sure thing, right after I poop my pants.] Shout, wave your arms and throw rocks. The idea is to convince the cougar that you are not prey, but a potential danger. [This reminds me of a rottweiler that almost attacked me when I was in high school. I did, in fact, jump toward it screaming, and the dog stopped dead in his tracks and stared at me like I was crazy. So I guess that would work.]

So, this one little article sent me into a tailspin of worry, where I started imagining worst-case scenarios of what I would do if I found a cougar in our yard. I mean, I freaked out last night because I found a raccoon in our kitchen. (Apparently he likes cat food.) But a cougar? I have no idea how to deal with that. And then I start to think that maybe we need to have a gun for these wild kingdom-esque situations. The thing is, I am about as anti-gun a person as you’ll ever meet. I have never touched a gun in my life. In seventh grade, they made all of us take a “hunter’s education” class, because that’s what happens when you grow up in a red state, and part of the class involved going to a shooting range and learning how to fire a gun. I got my mom to write me a note to excuse me from the class because it was against my beliefs. That’s how anti-gun I was when I was 12 years old, so imagine what I’m like now. Yeah. But seriously, if it comes down to a cougar versus my cats, or God forbid, a cougar versus our as-yet-unconceived child? I’d totally be willing to use a gun, in a heartbeat. So now I have to make a decision about that. And the worry spiral continues. Fun! You know, I really like this house and all, but sometimes I miss apartment/city life. Oy.

Cat Portraits

Posted on October 14, 2005 by Cindy

I was bored today, so I thought I would amuse myself by taking pictures of our cats. And now I’m playing with this new WordPress plug-in that lets me put little thumbnails of photos in my posts. (Well, it’s not a new plug-in, it’s just new to me.) So now, for your viewing pleasure… (click any of the images to see them larger.)

This is Teenie, hanging out in my office. She gets in my chair every time I get out of it, which is sort of annoying, but in a totally adorable way.

Here’s Cleo, posing like a true supermodel on the bathmat. She’s my favorite of Dave’s cats because she’s so mellow and sweet. I really love her coloring too, I’ve never seen a cat that looks quite like her. Note those crazy paws with the thumbs. I’m telling you, someday she’s going to learn how to use those suckers and then we’re all in trouble.

Also, you saw how cute and happy Teenie looked up there? This is what she looks like when Cleo comes into the office. See how flat her ears get when she’s mad? I tried to catch her in mid-hiss, but I totally missed it.

This is Beaumont on our deck. I realized later that he had some crusty stuff on his eye and on his leg, and I thought about editing it out of the photo, but I think this is a pretty true representation of what he actually looks like most of the time. From afar, he looks like a lovely and elegant long-haired black cat, but in reality he is a total doof.

We have this little orange cat that sometimes comes inside to get food when we leave the door open. I’m pretty sure he’s a stray because he used to run every time I made eye contact with him, but he’s getting used to me. I was still a good ten feet away when I took this picture, I just sat on the kitchen floor and used the zoom lens to get the up-close shot of him. (He’ll hang out in the doorway as long as I don’t get too close, but he’ll wait to come inside until I’m safely out of view.) I realized just how horrendously filthy our slider door is when I saw this photo. It’s sort of mortifying, I can’t believe I’m showing it to the whole Internet. Ignore the dirt, look at the cute kitty!

Out in the yard, I caught Greta in the middle of her bath. This picture makes me laugh every time I see it.

This is more like what she normally looks like. Not exactly pleased, is she? I think she’s a little annoyed with me for that last photo. But she’s still sitting in her mid-bath pose, which is darn funny to me.

And of course, I have to end this post on a cute little “awwww” note. So here’s Beaumont and Greta doing a little kissy-face action. So sweet.

Have a great weekend!