Birthday Girl

Today is my 39th birthday.

I've had the most kick-ass weekend, with like a little taste of all of my favorite things, well, except a visit from you- but everything else.

As I write this, I'm sitting in this gorgeous New Orleans church (St. Charles Ave. Presbyterian, if you find yourself nearby and need a church), where my dad's chorale group will be performing soon.

A little aside- the director and conductress of this chorale ensemble recognized me at a concert last year.  "I know you," she said.  "We went to LSU together!"  I left LSU in 1993.  Something like 20,000 students go there.  Granted, we were both music majors, but still.  !.  The next thing she did was offer me a spot in the ensemble.  Bless her heart.  The past 20 years have featured a LOT of cigarettes...  Pretty sure she wouldn't want me if she knew how I sound now!

I tend to celebrate my birthday for days- a week even.  This year has been no exception.  I started out on Friday, which I took off from work, so that the baby would see this when he got home from school (on his last ever day of 2nd grade ohmygawwwwwww):

Total kickass mom win.

Friday night, we were lazy and did nothing, but it was nice.

Saturday, I took El Niño and two of his good friends to the beach.  This is them:

Dear beach:  I love you.  Always, Sarah

When we got home, we cleaned up some and went to my folks house for a while, then came home because friends were coming over for trivia night.  Friends who kick ass at trivia, mind you.

Sunday, we had a great church service, then went for a sail, then drank beer and watched little kids swim.  We stopped to eat, then did that some more.  It was awesome.

Today is the actual birthday.  I snoozed a little until I realized my gd baby kitten didn't wake up in a timely fashion so he had an accident.  In my bed.  In which I was lying.  Eff that.

Got dressed, then we went for a boat ride, followed by more swimming.  I went home and relaxed a bit, and now I'm at this concert, after which my dad said he would take me out to eat fancy.  In New Orleans.

I like chorale music but I can't freaking wait for this concert to be over so I can go eat.  Can't.  Freaking.  Wait.  My date- my dad- is in a tux.  FuckinA.

I hope y'all had a good weekend.  God knows I did.  I'm a lucky girl.  A lucky birthday girl!

Pee and Mother's Day

So remember last week, the poop incident?

That's a preface.

At work, I wear a badge on a landyard around my neck.  That badge has a key card in it, so that I can get through locked doors.  Magic.

On Tuesday, we had Big Accounting here to work with us on a new process.  That's fine and dandy, I get it, and so forth.  While she was here, as our Big Accountant of the day was a lady, I had to go make a tinkle (shut up), so I did.  While sitting on the commode, my lanyard twisted around, and there was a plop...

when my key card slid into the toilet.

Nice.

I figured, okay, I can deal with this, but first, let me stand up and fix my britches and what-all.

Only we have self-flushing toilets.  So the minute I shifted my weight, the toilet flushed.

So I go, "nonononononono" and had no choice but to fully immerse my hand in pee to grab the card before it was sucked into the plumbing.

Immersion.  In.  Pee.

It's been a week of waste products, folks.

In other news, with the pending Mother's Day, it's been decided that the boys will get me a (free) kitten.  Which I think sounds like a good plan.  Although I dearly, tremendously adore my girl cat, she's a total bitch and this might mellow her out some.  Maybe.  Or else, she might eat a kitten.  One thing or the other.

In the process, I've been searching for a freebie that is a cutie.  Note, I am fine with paying a little adoption fee, especially if that means the new baby will be neutered and chipped and de-wormed and shot.

At first, I really wanted this baby:

Because, Ohhhh MAH GAH, right?  Right.

But he has already been taken to a new home.  Sad, frownie face.

So today, I started looking at the shelter (nothing, seriously, nothing, but they said they will have kittens tomorrow), and then I called our vet, who has a couple of babies.

Look:

Oh.  Mah.  GAHHHHH.

He's cute, but I would never pick a black and white cat.  I'm used to special kitties with fancy colors.  All black, say, or siamese-ish, like Rosie.

But still, look at his face!  And his smile (which was accompanied by constant MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW MEW) (which I swear is precious since Rosie pretty much never cries, ever.)

Also, he looks like Edgar Allan Poe, thus making it easy to name him:

We will go look again tomorrow.  If I get one from the pound, it will be cheaper because the free babies at the vet come with nothing but one free set of shots.  So that's not totally awesome.  And he still has his little 'nads.

But one way or the other, it looks like we are getting another boy around the house.  Doodle will be happy, because he will no longer be gender-outnumbered.

I love kittens.

Happy Mother's Day!

Don't You Poop On Me...

I like dogs.  I really do.  Like 'em.  Loves 'em.

But I don't have one, which is why this is particularly disturbing.

Let's start like this.  For the last few days, I have occasionally caught a whiff of eau-de-poop in my bedroom, but I checked for cat poop in the bathtub (happens) and all was clear.  Couldn't spot any logical culprit, so I didn't worry too much about it.  Besides, last weekend, I drank a whole pot of Raspberry Coffee, and I'm allergic to raspberries, so it was a quick weight-loss (and water-loss) scheme for me.  But it was good.  So there.

Anyway, so this morning, I got dressed and came to work, where I sat at my computer for a little while, doing worky things, then I got up, and got myself some coffee.  Then I came back to my desk and sat down again for a little while, then I got up and decided to get more coffee.  I didn't even realize that there was an inch or so of coffee still in my cup, which I swung around like a drunk college kid with a party cup full of pink champagne (true story), resulting in a significant splash of coffee on the leg of my pants and on my foot.

Sigh.

So I got to the kitchen and I pulled some paper towels to mop up my foot area, when I noticed a bunch of mud on the side of my shoe, which is weird, since it hasn't been raining.

And even weirder, it wasn't mud.

After much yelling of "EW," and a good scrub of the shoe in question, in the bathroom, it looked like everything was going to be okay.

So I proceeded with my day, and then, maybe an hour or so later, I kind of realized my chair had something on it...

which was poop.

ON MY CHAIR.

(I tend to fold my leg under me while I sit.)

And this means, there was poop...

On my butt.

!!!

Let me repeat - I do not have a dog.  This is unfair, truly.

I still don't know what the source of the dog poop was.  It's been remedied, but I'm still smelling phantom poop, and I really cannot wait to change out of my pants.

I keep telling myself that, if this is the worst thing that happens today, then it's a good day, but still.  Poop.  On.  Me.  Argh.