Tuesday, March 29, 2011

How Sad Is It?

That I have only two followers and one of them is me??  One is Erma!


I'm so pathetic I follow my own journal.

Don't judge.

So, Kitty Dos has been scaring me.  She's normally a rather grouchy, don't touch me or I will rip your face off kind of cat.  She adores you when and where she wants to adore you, though she does seem to like Saige more than most people.  But when Dos loves on you, you sit still and hope not to make a move that will anger her.  And for some reason, she has chosen to love me today.  All day. I sit down on the computer, and she's there, rubbing her head against my head.  Purring.  Patting me with her razor sharp clawed paws.  When I got up to do some dishes, she followed me, meowing her love.

She has food, so it's not that she's trying to get my attention so I'll feed her.

No, it's just my turn to be loved, I guess.

Normally it's Lil Nocka that loves me.  Unconditionally.  Right now she's asleep, right beside the computer.  I'm not sure where Kitty Dos went now, but she probably went to find Saige.  No, Nocka does not like to share me.  She'll put up with the dogs, but she will whack another cat upside the head of it comes too close.  She particularly does not like Imp, the Ugliest Cat in the World, or Punc, the Cat Who Hid Her Kittens in the Scary Basement so They Are Impossible to Find Now.

Nocka Nocka New!

Imp, the Ugliest Cat In The World.  Unless You Are A 5 Year Old Girl

Cats like to be up high.  This is because they KNOW they are the natural rulers of the universe, and they deserve high perches to observe us, their lowly subjects.  There's a saying that goes, "Dogs think we are God, but cats know they are God."  True.  So true.  Or if not God, then cats are pretty sure they should be running things.

So, I got the day right last night and got the trash out.

I thought you'd like to know that.

You know, because I had my days wrong last week and all.

Saige wants to go to the recruiter's office today to see about taking the pre-test for the ASVAB.  I don't wanna go!   I'm tired of driving people around and going hither and yon, dang it!  I feel like my mother!!!  (At oen time, Mom kept track of how many hours she spent driving us from one thing to another, and as I recall, she spent 43.79 hours a day in the car.)  I had to get up extra early this morning (okay, it was the same time I get up every morning, but it FELT early to me) so I could get out there in the cold, wintry weather to drive all the way across town to pick up Dr. Lampshade, then drive all the way back to my side of town to take him to the courthouse, then back to my house, then back to the courthouse, then back to his house again.   

He has his weekly anger management/probation meetings at the courthouse.  If he misses, he'll be sent to prison, apparently.  However, he's really pretty sick right now, and probably should have been able to stay home.  Time and probation wait for no man, I suppose.

Lamp had a probation officer he really liked, and she was promoted, so now he has, as he puts it, "A mean, bald, stupid, s.o.b. jerk who keeps trying to catch me in lies!"  Lamp was offended that this guy would say things like, "You stole from a store, didn't you?  Just admit it!"  or, "You smoked pot, I know you did. Admit it!"

Lamp offered to take a urinalysis and wouldn't admit stealing, whether he did or didn't.  I'd like to think he didn't, but, well....  motherly love only goes so far, and then you have to step back and see your son, or daughter, for who they are at the moment.

He goes through this beautiful moments where I see the kid I adore.  He makes me laugh, and he's charming and sweet, and so funny...  and then, in a heartbeat, or in the time it takes whatever drugs he's using to kick in...  he changes.  He becomes overly hyper (Which is really, really annoying with a kid who's already ADHD and who is over 6 feet tall to begin with).  He's angry.  Everything bothers me and he hates the world, and me most of all.  I think I'm a pretty easy target for him.

His Dad's dead, or he might lash out at him, too.

I think it's hard for Lamp, because he is sensitive, and he tries to hard to keep things inside. I know he misses Grandma, but it bothered him to cry, and it bothers him because I still cry over missing her.  He loves Britney, but he's not sure how to be a husband, and perhaps he's not sure how to be a man, either.  He is only 19, and he's young for 19, too.  I'm sure many of you know exactly what I mean by that statement.

But, my point is that I should talk more about Saige, because when she reads this, she will point out that I should mention her more often.

Saige is the one who's not that furry, in case you were confused.  

You know, when I was very little, I saw one of my grandmothers standing in the sunlight, and I noticed that she had some fine, blond hairs on her face.  Horrified, and hoping I'd never get a furry/fuzzy face, I refused from then on to kiss either grandmother.  Men had whiskers, not grandmas!

I think I was a tad naive.  

I need to go look in the bathroom mirror right quick, make sure I don't have a fuzzy face!

Wait, I'm not going to be kissing my own face, so what difference does it make if I'm all fuzzy?

None, that's what.

Me and Saige.  I'm the cute one, in case you were confused.  She's the younger one, but it's hard to tell which one of us is younger and which one is cuter, isn't it?


Saige has a great sense of humor, too.  Though it's obvious I'm the cuter one.  (And the delirious one)  All of my kids make faces during photos.  I do not know WHERE they get that!

Wait, he's not mine!  Never mind!

Jethro's expression hasn't changed much in 20 years.

(the caption says, "Reactions to reading. Enough said." I just like their expressions. Oh and the ties hung over Jethro's ears.  I guess those are ties.  They might be socks, or some weird military uniform part like, "Webbed holsters, human, non-locking, wool, basic, AG-49c, ear covers, striped)

Well, I have to go do things more important than writing in this journal. Okay, I'm lying.  I don't have anything much to do, but I want you to think that I do.  

Go in peace, be warm and filled.

Yes, alien masters.  I hear and I obey!  Wipe out the humans.. wipe out.. wait.  If I do that, who is going to feed me?  Let's rethink this...

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