Gossiper, with my mother. As per usual. Only with more vulgar language.

This weekend, I was sitting at a pool with my mother, my brother, his wife and a friend.  We got to talking, as we do, about people, you know, the gossip.

We got to talking about somebody in particular, who recently got married.  Oddly enough, that same person has become 1,000 times nicer to everybody.  We are shocked, pleased, and feel like talking about such things.

"I always said she just needed some D," said my brother.

"What?"  Said my mother.

"D.  She just needed some D," repeated my brother.

"D?  I don't know what you are saying," said my mother.  "I could understand 'S,' for sex, but "B?  D? I don't understand."

"DICK, MOM," my brother said, pretty loudly.  "I SAID SHE JUST NEEDED SOME DICK."

As the families sitting nearby looked over, I was reminded that I live in Louisiana, now, and they did exactly as they ought.  They smiled or even chuckled a little bit.

Also, I'm glad that person got some D and is now pleasant to be around.

Black Poltergeist Home Owner

My very best bestie in the whole wide world is coming to visit this weekend.  Janetpalooza is imminent, and I am excited, and I am bouncing and starving.  I don't expect you to get that, so here's an asterisk and I will explain later on.  There's something else I need to tell you about right now.  So here:  *

When friends are coming, I generally like things to be neat, so I wanted to sweep and vacuum and what-all, but I've been putting it off because I've been sick and lazy but mostly sick.  So tonight I did do all those things I wanted to do, like clean the bathtubs and the floors and everything.

Anyway, so I got that all done, and then I did the whole ahhhhhhhhhhhTimeToSitOnTheCouch thing, and it was lovely.  Having forgotten that I need to stare intently at CNN and wonder at the fact that I LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW WHERE THINGS ARE IN EASTERN EUROPE AND THE MIDDLE EAST, and oooooh airplane shot down and ooooooooh war???? - wait, where was I?  Oh, yes.  I had momentarily forgotten all of that, so I figured, hey, Jeopardy!

I have lots of episodes.  I watched one last night from May 27.  MAY.  27.  I'm a little bit behind.

Julia is still winning, if that means anything to you.

Okay, so anyway, I sat on the couch, yarn nearby, and I turned on the DVR, and I saw this:

Now.  Let's discuss a few things here.

Thing One:  This was recorded at 9:17 a.m.  I was at work at 9:17 a.m.

Thing Two:  It got the whole episode.  35 minutes.

Thing Three:  BET.  The High Def one.  I did not even think I got that channel.  I've certainly never not once watched that channel.  I obviously don't have time, when I can't even watch my Jeopardy collection.

Thing Four:  Seriously.  38 episodes of Jeopardy.  Also, do you want to judge me for Return to Amish?  Yeah?  Fuck you.  Also, High School Musical is mine, not Caleb's.  I OWN MY CRAZY.

But seriously.  SERIOUSLY.  Moesha!!!

There is no sign of break-in.  I called Sam and asked if he stopped by my house today.  "No," he said, then he muttered "weirdo."  That might not really have happened but kind of it did.  Anyway, I told him what happened, what I found on the DVR, and he agreed that this was, indeed, really fucking weird.

I also texted my dad, the only other person in this town that has access to my house, as my mom is out of town.  He didn't come over, either.

So I called him and told him the deal.

"So no sign of break in?"  Right.  "Could you have accidentally set it up to tape?"  I guess I could have, but I seriously don't think that happened.

Katiebird thinks that my cat did it.  I'm inclined to agree.  Little Hitler likes Brandy.  But even that requires some serious coincidences.  He'd have to have already had it on the right channel.  He'd have to have hit this tiny button the the remote.  It's the smallest button on there.  I'm not sure...

In the end, my dad has decided I either have a black poltergeist or there is a message for me (from God, via Moesha) that I need to experience, so...

I'm going to go watch Moesha.  I'll let you know.



And if another thing records, I'll know it's the real deal.  I've got guests.  They coming fo' me, 'lizabeth!

* Years and years ago, before cell phones, I was going to visit Janie or she was coming to visit me, back when we lived 4 hours apart, and anyway, so she had left me a voice mail at work.  I had a post it in front of me, as one does, where I took a note while I listened to the message:

"Hi!  I'm so excited!  I can't wait to get off work so we can get together.  I'm totally bouncing off the walls!!  Also, I'm STARVING so let's plan to eat..."

I wrote:  "Janet - bouncing & starving"

And a trend was born.

Here we are, a good solid, what, 15?  17???  years later, and I'm here, watching Moesha, and bouncing and starving!

Traffic violator.

I got pulled over today.

It wasn't terribly dramatic, but I truly had a "what the fuck did I DO" moment.  You see, we were jamming to- I kind you not- Vacation Bible School music, so I figured I must've been speeding.

But no.

I had just turned left onto a road, a road with a light, but no turn signal.  As one does, on the green light, I pulled halfway into the intersection- signal on- an waited for a gap in the traffic so I could turn left.  

No gap came, and, again, we were jamming, so maybe I was a second late in proceeding through the turn under red.

At any rate, that's what I was pulled for, for running a red light.

I'm due for a ticket, but even as the cop told me to step out of the car (!), I figured this one was worth fighting.

I handed him my license and insurance card and registration, and smiled ruefully to myself.  Well, hey, thought I.  I just dropped $200 at the vet for annuals for my furries.  Whatever, I will figure this out.

Then the cop came back to me, handed me my shit, told me to be more careful, and drove off.

No ticket.  Fucking SCORE!

But really.  Doesn't everybody pull half early through the intersection on a left turn without an arrow?

Pooper. It is what it is.

This weekend, the baby and I drove to Baton Rouge to watch my nephew's dance recital.  Which rocked.

Before the recital, C said he needed to go to the bathroom.  I told him ok, and off he went.

Moments later, the littlest nephew said HE needed to go potty, so I said, "come on.  Nanny'll take you."  And I did.

(While in the potty, baby k asked if I was pooping, kinda loudly, and then he wanted to look for himself.  Awesome.)

We came out of the bathroom and found my brother, who was laughing, with C.  

"Caleb asked where you were. I told him you were still in the potty, that you must have needed to poop."

"'Thats all she can do,' Caleb said.  'She's a girl, and girls can only go number two.'"

My brother tried to set C straight but he and I both laughed about this for a good long while.

It makes sense, if you think about it.  I do have to sit.

But I don't always have to shit.

:)

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.