Tripping Over Kitties: How Darius Became a Freeloading Bum in Luxury.

100 Things about Pasada

1. I'm allergic to anything that breathes underwater.
2. I only developed the allergy after pregnancy.
3. I never thought to blame my child, but SHE gets to eat shrimp.
4. I have a chronic back condition from typing too much.
5. If I don't write frequently, the voices in my head start plotting my demise.
6. I've discovered better living through pharmaceuticals.
7. I hate my job.
8. You would, too.
9. Everyone hates my job when the market crashes.
10. I like doing things in threes.
11. I'm the youngest of three girls.
12. My friends think I'm the most sane person in my family.
13. I don't have very many friends.
14. I moved on an average of twice per year for my entire childhood.
15. I hate-hate! scary movies.
16. On last count, I've had five fathers/ stepfathers.
17. I think it's time to stop counting.
18. No, that's not my real name, but it is a long-standing nickname with a lot of meaning bestowed by a very wise person. At least, I think he was wise. Most high-school custodians are smarter than you think.
19. I took the Series 7 Registered Representative exam twice, and passed it both times. I got a better score the second time.
20. Hughie likes to burrow under the covers and sleep behind my knees. I love that.
21. I bug my husband constantly to get home at a decent hour... then, if he arrives after six, I'm cranky all evening. Never fails.
22. I have very wide feet.
23. I'm still very clumsy.
24. I love makeup, especially colorful eyeshadows and black eyeliner.
25. If 30-ish goth chicks could be cool, I'd be one. Until then, I'll continue to hide my fishnet shrug.
26. I visited Mexico once, and it scared the cat-love outta me. I don't think I'll ever go back.
27. I love faeries.
28. I can walk in six-inch heels. I can run in five-inch ones. It hurts like hell though, and if I did it in public my insurance company would have a heyday.
29. I enjoy dressing my six-year-old up as a faerie and taking photos of her playing in the back yard.
30. I've spent the last 15 years of my life trying to un-learn everything my mother taught me in the first 15.
31. She attempts to foil my efforts every time we see each other alone.
32. I still love her, though.
33. I get really upset when I see cats and dogs being neglected in my neighborhood.
34. This happens surprisingly frequently.
35. My husband hates the fact that I will deliberately destroy our peaceful relations with our neighbors to advocate for an animal in distress.
36. I have Animal Control on speed-dial. I also have the names of several rescues and S.N.Y.P. in my phone book.
37. I always wanted to learn how to draw, dance, and operate a braille typewriter.
38. I have a brown belt in Kenpo.
39. I know that I should go back and test for my black, but I haven't found a teacher that I trust.
40. I'd love to dye my hair UV blue, but I'd never hear the end of it from my mother. This wouldn't be so bad but we work at the same place, so she'd get to harangue me in front of my colleagues.
41. I'm left handed. I don't know why every mySpace survey asks me this, but there it is.
42. I'm left handed because I broke my right wrist when I was five, and my mom didn't have the money to take me to the doctor. It went unset for three weeks, and was ultimately re-broken when she grabbed my hand.
43. One of my sisters is right-handed because her first-grade teacher refused to let her use her left.
44. I learned to knit at the ripe old age of 26.
45. I knit in an unusual style that doesn't require me to ever turn my knitting around in my hands. I can knit and purl "backwards."
46. I taught myself.
47. I live and die for Tuesday Morning.
48. Well, not really, but I can find some killer deals there.
49. My favorite colors are burgundy, black, deep green-blue and dark violet.
50. Ironically, my favorite outfit du jour is white and hot-pink.
51. I'm a Capricorn with a Cancer moon. I hate myself, I'm always telling myself about it, and I'm always so offended by my critical nature. I can't seem to back down from an argument with myself, either. And I always have to have the last word.
52. I make excellent, well though-out decisions that are based entirely on emotion.
53.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

How Darius Became a Freeloading Bum in Luxury.

You know what I'm talking about. It's like the heebie jeebies. You start thinking about creepy stuff like bogeymen and poltergeists and suddenly your entire house is teeming with denziens of evil.

Then, there's cats. You start thinking about them. Then, you get one. Suddenly... there are, like EIGHTY knocking down your door. And none of them, fortunately or unfortunately, are figments of your imagination.

It started with Solace. We were ready, as a family, for a new furry family member. Financially, it was a little bit of a stretch because the adoption wasn't timed perfectly... you get them when you can! But then...

Hot Plumber Husband: Hi, Honey! How was your day?

Harried, Driving Me: It was work. How 'bout you?

Hot Husband: Gooood...

Harried Me: What's up, tiger? (Yes. I really call him that)

Hot Husband: Nuuuuthin'. Funny thing happened at work today...

Harried Me: (cluelessly biting) What's that, babe?

Hot Husband: Well, one of the secrataries had the sh*t scared out of her today. She went to toss something in the dumpster at the shop and there was this cat...

Harried Me: (downshifting, in every sense of the word) Oh, dear.

Hot Husband: He's fine now, they let him in the office and he's been there all day...

Harried Me: Darlin', (if there's a pet name, I call him that. I call YOU that too. I am indiscriminate with endearments.)how much time have YOU been in the office today?

Hot Husband: Uhmm, it was kind of a slow day...

Harried Me: We have another cat, don't we?

Hot Husband: (backpedalling), Well, no, not unless you want one but we don't have to but both of the secrataries all ready tried and their husbands said no and...

Harried Me: (Arriving at daycare to pick up SmartyPants)He must be really darn cute for you to be lobbying for this.

Hot Husband: (Seeing his opening and advancing for the kill) He's an AWESOME cat! He's got a purr like a V8 engine and he's been so sweet and happy all day. We've been playing and he napped in my lap...

Harried Me: (Loading SmartyPants into the car): Love, if he napped in your lap, he all ready bought you. My input is irrelevant. I'll make an appointment at the vet and buy another cat box. Do you think Solace will like him?

Hot Husband: I'm sure they'll be fine (Translation: I don't know but I'm sure you can figure it out).

Harried Me: Are you sure he doesn't belong to someone?

Hot Husband: Well, I've seen him around the shop for a few weeks now, he's been eating trash and we all feed him a little of our lunch when we're here... He has a flea collar, but it's really old and cracked, and it rubbed a part of his neck raw...

Harried Me: Oh my gosh! Ouch! (Sympathy creeps in around the edges)

Hot Husband: Yeah, so I thought he would be better off with us. Maybe. If you don't mind...?

Harried Me: SmartyPants and I are on our way to the shop now to meet the little booger.

Hot Husband: Great! Ok, we'll be here... You'll like him a lot, I promise!

When we arrived, there was my sexy plumber husband looking three kinds of eager, and a puddle of black velvet curled up on an office chair, emitting a low-frequency rumble that can only be described as a Harley in a vat of marshmallow fluff. When the cat lifted his head, I could see that his coat was rubbed off between his shoulder blades, and there were raw patches on his neck and under his chin. His skin was dry and flaky, but his eyes were bright and he chirrupped when he saw us. Oh, he was skinny! All angles, and for some strange reason I noticed that his head seemed far too small for his body. I offered a hand, and the Harley shifted into high gear. He rubbed my fingers with his jaw, I suppose he could smell my hot plumber husband on me and knew that I was family. He was polite and playful with SmartyPants, she was immediately smitten. So, I dropped the bomb: "We'll take him home," I announced.

The secrataries twittered with pleasure and made supportive statements. "I have two conditions." Hot husband looked struck, and groaned.

He should have known better, the man. TINSTAAFL (Google it). "Ok, what is it?"

"One, I get to name him." (Otherwise, the poor thing would wind up with either an Egyptian or German name that I either couldn't pronounce or would come out sounding like a bodily function)

"Damn. Fine. What's number two?"

"It's time to buy a house."

Welcome to the family, Darius!