Hi Friends!
Long time, no hear, right?
I just got back from a long Thanksgiving weekend in Nacogdoches a few hours ago. It didn't feel particularly long. By that I mean that I wasn't sitting at Mom and Dad's house wishing I could leave. I always have a great time at my parents house. I think I must have a lot in common with them. For Thanksgiving itself, the entire family was there except for Matt, Melissa and Oliver. Oliver is only a few weeks old, so he is just too young to do a lot of traveling yet. I haven't been able to see him in person yet. But the pictures are adorable.
Jacob and Jeni were there with little Joseph Tex Meyers their newest addition. He is adorable and probably still seeing blue spots from all the flashes that were going off in his proximity. He is just a little over 2 months old and the "new" hasn't wore off of him yet. He's still of an age where you just want to smell his head and squeeze him when you hold him. Although his Mom and Dad would probably not approve of the squeezing part.
After Thanksgiving, Mom and I put their Christmas tree up on Friday. Then Saturday we did a little shopping followed by a rousing game of Moon at the kitchen table for me, Mom and Dad. Then I came on back home Sunday. Before I even came back to my house Sunday I went to Lowe's to purchase a new refrigerator. I have been pricing them and reading reviews for weeks. I got what I think was a good deal on one from Lowe's. It won't be delivered for a few weeks. But I'm in no hurry. I need to find a new home for my current refrigerator in the meantime. I'm hoping that a nephew will take it. But if that doesn't happen, perhaps one of my faithful readers is in need of a beer fridge. It's a good one! It has never given me any trouble in 17 years! It's nothing fancy. Just a bottom fridge with a top freezer and an icemaker in the freezer if you have a hook up. It's a Magic Chef. Back when I bought it in 1996 it was the cheapest one they had with an icemaker at Circuit City in Tyler.
The cats are happy to see me home. Although, I don't know if they missed me too much while I was gone. Their catsitter plays all kinds of game with them. Then just to keep me buttered up so that I wouldn't be too upset about not being missed, she got me a plant and planted it in an empty flower pot on my front porch! I spent half an hour looking for something that had been broken. But no breakage, just a really nice petsitter. Maybe I've been tipping her too much....
My new project is going to be scheduling a family photographer for the day after Christmas. We are going to have the entire Meyers clan here in Dallas on the day after Christmas for a big family photo and it would seem that I am in charge of the picture. I will tell you that this has not been easy for anyone. My sister-in-law, Eileen and I have been trying to arrange this for a while. We have differing opinions on what makes a good family photo. She seems to feel that everyone should be dressed similarly. I think that if we do that, in 10 years strangers will be passing our photo around on the internet laughing their butts off at us. (When the people being photographed range in weight from 10 lbs to 300 lbs, the attire that makes them look good, or even presentable, can be quite different.) Otherwise, we agree on most aspects of this.
Going forward, I have Donny and Marie tickets for this Wednesday night and my friend who was supposed to go had to cancel on me. So, we'll see if I end up at a Donny and Marie concert alone on Wednesday. I'm thinking the kind of single man I meet at this concert won't be one that I am interested in a long term relationship with. (Don't start with me, Katherine!) Well you guys have a great week and I'll try to be in touch a little more often in the next few weeks.
Roatan
Pirate ship?
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Day Five-Forty-Four - Cigar Boxes
Where I grew up there were three elementary schools. I went to Raguet Elementary in first grade. Then we moved to the other side of town so I went to Fredonia Elementary in second through fifth grade. At Fredonia, there was a pencil machine.
Probably all schools had them but I really liked getting pencils out of that pencil machine. They cost a nickle and they had different NFL teams names on them. Anytime a kid got lucky enough to get a Cowboys pencil they held onto it like it was gold. If you were lucky enough to have a Cowboys pencil, you only sharpened it when you had to so that you wouldn't sharpen it down past the silver lettering that spelled out Dallas Cowboys. When I put my nickle in the machine it always dispensed a stupid Cincinnati Bengals pencil. You never had to worry about your Bengals pencil getting stolen out of your cigar box, it was always safe. We didn't have backpacks back then. Some kids had book bags. But usually only girls had them. I had a couple of different book bags over the years. But I never really liked carrying one. Even then, I knew it was a little dorky to carry a book bag.
But we did have cigar boxes. The week before school started we would always go down to Community Grocery and ask Mr. Hucklebee for a school box. He'd have a stack of them under the counter that he would pull out and we would choose the one we liked the best. They were all the same, so I'm not sure why it mattered. But it did. The key to finding a good cigar box was to open it up and smell it. A really good cigar box would keep that cigar scent all year long no matter how much glue spilled in it or was intentionally squirted inside.
On the first day of school you'd arrive with your cigar box, filled with pencils, crayons, scissors and various other supplies. It would then be stowed in your assigned desk for the remainder of the year. When the teacher said "get your pencils out", 30 cigar boxes would be pulled out of the desks storage areas and open up. Once a pencil was found, the cigar box would go back where it belonged and we would get to work.
The first few weeks of school, the crayons were stored in their own little box neatly and possibly even in order based on color and placed in the cigar box. But by October, they were rolling around in the cigar box and the crayon box was a distant memory. Then when it was time to color something, your entire cigar box had to sit out on your desk with the lid open so that you could chose colors to use. If you were trying to decide which color to use, you might color on the inside of the lid to see what it looked like. But that never really worked that well since the lid had a glossy sheen to it and the wax of the crayons didn't do well on a surface like that.
By the end of the school year the cigar box had been colored all over, the lid was probably missing and there were pools of glue in various spots inside. But surprisingly, it usually lasted the entire year without any need to replace it. There were a couple of kids at my school who had store bought cigar boxes that they called pencil boxes (snobs). I'm sure their mom paid a dollar or two for them. What a waste! And they didn't even have a picture of King Edward to draw an eye patch on!
I can't remember if my mom had to pay for our cigar boxes. If she did it was probably a nickle. Back then everything was a nickle. I think I had the same cigar box for 1st and 2nd grade. In those early years, it just sat in your desk all year long. But in 4th grade, we began changing classrooms for some classes so you carried some of your stuff with you. The cigar box took a beating when you moved from classroom to classroom. So in 5th grade the cigar box was replaced with one of those notebook zipper bags. I hated those things. It was plastic and went inside a 3 ring binder and all of your pencils, map colors (because by then you were too grown up for crayons), scissors, glue, erasers and even pens went in there. A few months into the year, the holes would tear and it would start falling out of your notebook as you walked, or it would get a hole in it and you'd be dropping pencils as you walked down the hall. Then you'd have to go to the office to buy a new pencil and you'd end up with a crummy Bengals pencil. The only chance you had of someone picking your pencil up in the hallway and returning it to you was if the one you dropped was a Bengals pencil.
The bad thing about having to buy a pencil that you hadn't counted on needing to buy was that you had to do without milk that day since you had to use a nickle of your milk money which was 6 cents for the pencil! There was no disposable income back in the day. If you needed 6 cents for milk each day, your mom didn't send you to school with a dime. You went to school with 6 cents. So there was no saving that 4 cents a couple days in a row so that you could roll the dice on the pencil machine in hopes of getting a coveted Cowboys pencil. Some kids came to school each day with milk money AND ice cream money. Lucky bastards! Mom gave us ice cream money some days. But that was pretty limited. Now that I think about it, the fat kids were the ones that usually had ice cream money every day. If you had to buy a pencil that meant that you had a penny of your milk money left over. I always saved my penny in my cigar box. So there were usually a couple of pennies sliding around in there by the end of the year. They were in there next to the the two inch long former Cincinnati Benagls pencil that had been sharpened so much that it now only read "gals".
Have a happy Wednesday! I'm going to spend the rest of the day on a Royal Caribbean webinar.
Probably all schools had them but I really liked getting pencils out of that pencil machine. They cost a nickle and they had different NFL teams names on them. Anytime a kid got lucky enough to get a Cowboys pencil they held onto it like it was gold. If you were lucky enough to have a Cowboys pencil, you only sharpened it when you had to so that you wouldn't sharpen it down past the silver lettering that spelled out Dallas Cowboys. When I put my nickle in the machine it always dispensed a stupid Cincinnati Bengals pencil. You never had to worry about your Bengals pencil getting stolen out of your cigar box, it was always safe. We didn't have backpacks back then. Some kids had book bags. But usually only girls had them. I had a couple of different book bags over the years. But I never really liked carrying one. Even then, I knew it was a little dorky to carry a book bag.
But we did have cigar boxes. The week before school started we would always go down to Community Grocery and ask Mr. Hucklebee for a school box. He'd have a stack of them under the counter that he would pull out and we would choose the one we liked the best. They were all the same, so I'm not sure why it mattered. But it did. The key to finding a good cigar box was to open it up and smell it. A really good cigar box would keep that cigar scent all year long no matter how much glue spilled in it or was intentionally squirted inside.
On the first day of school you'd arrive with your cigar box, filled with pencils, crayons, scissors and various other supplies. It would then be stowed in your assigned desk for the remainder of the year. When the teacher said "get your pencils out", 30 cigar boxes would be pulled out of the desks storage areas and open up. Once a pencil was found, the cigar box would go back where it belonged and we would get to work.
The first few weeks of school, the crayons were stored in their own little box neatly and possibly even in order based on color and placed in the cigar box. But by October, they were rolling around in the cigar box and the crayon box was a distant memory. Then when it was time to color something, your entire cigar box had to sit out on your desk with the lid open so that you could chose colors to use. If you were trying to decide which color to use, you might color on the inside of the lid to see what it looked like. But that never really worked that well since the lid had a glossy sheen to it and the wax of the crayons didn't do well on a surface like that.
I can't remember if my mom had to pay for our cigar boxes. If she did it was probably a nickle. Back then everything was a nickle. I think I had the same cigar box for 1st and 2nd grade. In those early years, it just sat in your desk all year long. But in 4th grade, we began changing classrooms for some classes so you carried some of your stuff with you. The cigar box took a beating when you moved from classroom to classroom. So in 5th grade the cigar box was replaced with one of those notebook zipper bags. I hated those things. It was plastic and went inside a 3 ring binder and all of your pencils, map colors (because by then you were too grown up for crayons), scissors, glue, erasers and even pens went in there. A few months into the year, the holes would tear and it would start falling out of your notebook as you walked, or it would get a hole in it and you'd be dropping pencils as you walked down the hall. Then you'd have to go to the office to buy a new pencil and you'd end up with a crummy Bengals pencil. The only chance you had of someone picking your pencil up in the hallway and returning it to you was if the one you dropped was a Bengals pencil.
The bad thing about having to buy a pencil that you hadn't counted on needing to buy was that you had to do without milk that day since you had to use a nickle of your milk money which was 6 cents for the pencil! There was no disposable income back in the day. If you needed 6 cents for milk each day, your mom didn't send you to school with a dime. You went to school with 6 cents. So there was no saving that 4 cents a couple days in a row so that you could roll the dice on the pencil machine in hopes of getting a coveted Cowboys pencil. Some kids came to school each day with milk money AND ice cream money. Lucky bastards! Mom gave us ice cream money some days. But that was pretty limited. Now that I think about it, the fat kids were the ones that usually had ice cream money every day. If you had to buy a pencil that meant that you had a penny of your milk money left over. I always saved my penny in my cigar box. So there were usually a couple of pennies sliding around in there by the end of the year. They were in there next to the the two inch long former Cincinnati Benagls pencil that had been sharpened so much that it now only read "gals".
Have a happy Wednesday! I'm going to spend the rest of the day on a Royal Caribbean webinar.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Day Five-Thirty-Five - Talk Like an American Damn It!
Hi peeps! Yesterday I ended the blog pretty abruptly and I wanted to apologize for that in case any of you got whiplash from the sudden stop. I was thoroughly enjoying the perfect morning and writing away when I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to meet my friend Mary at 11 a.m. so that we could go to this cooking show at the Dallas Convention Center. So, I had to hurry up and get dressed and head out. The cooking show was terrific. I had a lot of fun and I bought some amazing chefs knives that have to be shipped to me. I can't wait to get them.
Paula Deen was the headliner for this show. I've never been much of a Paul Deen fan but I sort of became one yesterday. Here's my deal. I have low or no tolerance for people with heavy accents. Okay, if you just entered the country and have a fresh visa or foreign passport, it's ok to have an accent. If you live in a small rural area and you never leave that area, then it is also ok to have an accent. But if you have been on national TV, exposed to people without heavy accents on a normal basis and travel all over the country speaking to others who speak normally, wouldn't some of that heavy accent just sort of naturally go away? I mean, is it just me or does her accent seem to get thicker?
I know people who have lived almost their entire lives in Dallas suburbs and they speak like the just fell off a turnip truck. If someone asks where you are from and you respond "Play-noe-ah" literally adding syllables to the word, there is something wrong. Plano is not in the boonies. The six people who are actually from Plano do not have thick rural Texas accents. They speak with practically no accent at all. The other 269,770 people who live in Plano are actually all from some place else. The majority are from foreign countries. Several thousand of them are from the northeast, which is sort of a foreign country on it's own. Many others are from the midwest. But I can't tell you how often I talk to someone with a thick Texas accent and find out that they are from Carrollton, Lewisville or Farmers Branch. The thick Texas accent is not a result of listening to others around you speaking that way on a daily basis since most of the people in this part of the Metroplex seem to be from some place other than Texas.
If you sound like Gomer Pyle you are not from Carrollton. But here's my theory. Those people who have lived most of their lives in whatever North American urban area that they live in and still carry a serious accent do so by choice. It's their way of standing out, of being an individual. They are no different than a 16 year old girl dressed in goth clothing or a high school boy with a bright green mohawk. It is just a cry for attention. And that's why it bothers me. Do you want to stand out? Then do something worthy of garnering some attention!
I am sure that Paula Deen really did grow up in a place where everybody talks like she does. But she perpetuates the accent. At this point it has become part of her shtick. If some blond lady with a gigantic smile walked into a crowded room and just began talking with no accent and cooking shrimp and grits, we probably wouldn't pay much attention. But when the same blond lady with a crazy thick accent does it, she's recognizable and for some people easy to identify with. It's endearing on her.
Don't even get me started on the accents of our foreign neighbors to the south. If your family has lived in Texas for more than one generation, then you need to stop rolling your rrrrrrrrrrrrrr's when you say your name. We all get that you are Hispanic and proud of that. The fact that you name is Maria Garcia is sufficient evidence of your heritage. You do not need to extend the pronunciation of your name by thirty seconds making it Marrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrria Garrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcia to prove that you are Hispanic. I get that 37.6% of Texas' population is Hispanic so you are trying to make yourself stand out. But really, it's not necessary.
My worst pet peeve in the world is people who talk completely normally but when they come to one particular word, they feel the need to pronounce the word in a foreign language. This is Texas people. We pronounce the word crow-sant. Don't go getting all uppity and french on us and do that quwaaaaa-sancht thing that makes it sound like you have a french pastry stuck in the back of your throat. When I hear croissant pronounced that way, I get a sudden urge to perform the Heimlich maneuver on the speaker. It's okay to sound like an American even when you are using a foreign word if you are indeed IN America.
Now, with all this said, I must admit that when I go to East Texas, my accent suddenly becomes thicker. You see, living in Dallas, I make a serious effort to hide my East Texas accent. But when you are around other people with the same accent, it just creeps out! I lose all control of my accent as soon as my car crosses the Nacogdoches county line. The weirdest thing is that I don't necessarily have to go to Nacogdoches for this phenomenon to occur. If my family members from there come to visit me, it happens also. So I won't judge anybody if they suddenly start speaking in Wisconsonese when their family comes to visit. But once they go back home, talk like an American damn it!
Paula Deen was the headliner for this show. I've never been much of a Paul Deen fan but I sort of became one yesterday. Here's my deal. I have low or no tolerance for people with heavy accents. Okay, if you just entered the country and have a fresh visa or foreign passport, it's ok to have an accent. If you live in a small rural area and you never leave that area, then it is also ok to have an accent. But if you have been on national TV, exposed to people without heavy accents on a normal basis and travel all over the country speaking to others who speak normally, wouldn't some of that heavy accent just sort of naturally go away? I mean, is it just me or does her accent seem to get thicker?
I know people who have lived almost their entire lives in Dallas suburbs and they speak like the just fell off a turnip truck. If someone asks where you are from and you respond "Play-noe-ah" literally adding syllables to the word, there is something wrong. Plano is not in the boonies. The six people who are actually from Plano do not have thick rural Texas accents. They speak with practically no accent at all. The other 269,770 people who live in Plano are actually all from some place else. The majority are from foreign countries. Several thousand of them are from the northeast, which is sort of a foreign country on it's own. Many others are from the midwest. But I can't tell you how often I talk to someone with a thick Texas accent and find out that they are from Carrollton, Lewisville or Farmers Branch. The thick Texas accent is not a result of listening to others around you speaking that way on a daily basis since most of the people in this part of the Metroplex seem to be from some place other than Texas.
If you sound like Gomer Pyle you are not from Carrollton. But here's my theory. Those people who have lived most of their lives in whatever North American urban area that they live in and still carry a serious accent do so by choice. It's their way of standing out, of being an individual. They are no different than a 16 year old girl dressed in goth clothing or a high school boy with a bright green mohawk. It is just a cry for attention. And that's why it bothers me. Do you want to stand out? Then do something worthy of garnering some attention!
I am sure that Paula Deen really did grow up in a place where everybody talks like she does. But she perpetuates the accent. At this point it has become part of her shtick. If some blond lady with a gigantic smile walked into a crowded room and just began talking with no accent and cooking shrimp and grits, we probably wouldn't pay much attention. But when the same blond lady with a crazy thick accent does it, she's recognizable and for some people easy to identify with. It's endearing on her.
Don't even get me started on the accents of our foreign neighbors to the south. If your family has lived in Texas for more than one generation, then you need to stop rolling your rrrrrrrrrrrrrr's when you say your name. We all get that you are Hispanic and proud of that. The fact that you name is Maria Garcia is sufficient evidence of your heritage. You do not need to extend the pronunciation of your name by thirty seconds making it Marrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrria Garrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrcia to prove that you are Hispanic. I get that 37.6% of Texas' population is Hispanic so you are trying to make yourself stand out. But really, it's not necessary.
My worst pet peeve in the world is people who talk completely normally but when they come to one particular word, they feel the need to pronounce the word in a foreign language. This is Texas people. We pronounce the word crow-sant. Don't go getting all uppity and french on us and do that quwaaaaa-sancht thing that makes it sound like you have a french pastry stuck in the back of your throat. When I hear croissant pronounced that way, I get a sudden urge to perform the Heimlich maneuver on the speaker. It's okay to sound like an American even when you are using a foreign word if you are indeed IN America.
Now, with all this said, I must admit that when I go to East Texas, my accent suddenly becomes thicker. You see, living in Dallas, I make a serious effort to hide my East Texas accent. But when you are around other people with the same accent, it just creeps out! I lose all control of my accent as soon as my car crosses the Nacogdoches county line. The weirdest thing is that I don't necessarily have to go to Nacogdoches for this phenomenon to occur. If my family members from there come to visit me, it happens also. So I won't judge anybody if they suddenly start speaking in Wisconsonese when their family comes to visit. But once they go back home, talk like an American damn it!
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Day Five-Thirty-Four - What's in a Name?
Good morning friends! It's been brought to my attention that I should probably change the name of this blog from Unemployment 101 to anything else since after all, I'm not technically unemployed. I'm self employed. It makes sense to change the name. But it just seems like an unnecessary action to take. If you know me, and most of you do, I don't take unnecessary actions.... EVER! I barely take necessary actions. Nevertheless, let's kick around this name change idea.
It would be kind of fun to come up with a new name for the personal blog. But I'm not all that creative when it comes to titling things. I recently finished writing a book and need to distribute a couple of copies to a few friends to preview before I send it off to publishers but after spending a year and a half writing it and sitting on it for the last 2 months, I am totally unable to title the darn thing. Who would have thought that this would be the most difficult part of writing a book? I probably just place way too much importance on a title. But when I'm at Barnes & Noble browsing through the available romances, I look at two things, the title and the picture on the front. If the title isn't worthy, nothing about the picture will make me even pick up the book to read the jacket or back. Life is too short to read books with less than clever titles. I want there to be wit and substance in the books I read even if they are just cheesy romances and the title should reflect that.
It's the same with a blog. Granted, when I came up with Unemployment 101, it was pretty spur of the moment and apparently wasn't the most original title ever. I think there are several hundred blogs out there with the same title. (But the economy's fine, right Barack?) It expressed what I needed for it to say. This blog was originally created as a method of lighting a fire under myself. On the day I started this, which was day 7 of my unemployment, I had already sat on my couch and read 5 trashy romance novels and done little else. I needed something to make me accountable. So I created a blog and each day I posted a task list of the things I needed to accomplish. I was pretty good at it for a while. But I have to say that the task list hasn't been updated in months now. Even when I do post on this blog, I totally forget about it. Currently, I keep my to do list in a spiral notebook. The list du jours consists of 13 items that I must complete prior to my cruise night which is now less than 3 weeks away. As of this moment, two of the 13 items have been marked off of the list. One was marked off during the day yesterday and then added back on when Zazzle canceled my order because my artwork was incomplete. It has since been re-done and marked off again. Maybe a good new name for this blog should be Holy CRAP! Who Knew Running a Business Was So Much Work? A little wordy, right? But again, it says what I need for it to say....
Most of the items on my to do list really should have already been completed. But I only came up with the list yesterday. That was when I realized with the assistance of the receptionist at my vets office that my cruise night is only three weeks away and I still hadn't even completed the order for the snail mail invitations much less addressed them and gotten them in the mail! Yikes!!!! You might be relieved to know that this is one of the two things I was able to mark off the list yesterday. The invitations will be in my hot little hands in less than a week. Door prizes have also been ordered. That is the order that Zazzle kicked back. Beyond that, the venue was settled on a few weeks ago and I am on their calendar. And I've posted an invite on Facebook that I apparently need to re-post regularly so that people who don't live their lives on FB like a certain travel agent we all know and love does, will see it. Again, Who Knew It Was This Complicated??? Maybe a good working title would be Complications because really, isn't that what it's all about?
I've been kicking this one around for a few weeks.... tell me what you think.... A Day In The Life of A Stay At Home Cat Mom. I know! It's still wordy. But you have to admit it's clever. I mean other cat people would be all over that blog. But they would probably expect daily cat videos and photos.That's a pretty big commitment when you consider that I still have to do all of this travel agent stuff to make a living and someone's got to load cats into carriers and drive them to the vet on a pretty regular basis. This stuff doesn't do itself! Besides, that title would really lend itself to the unsubstantiated but spreading rumors that I have become one of those crazy cat ladies and I don't want that.
I think that regardless of the title that I eventually come up with, I'll always keep the day count as part of each individual post. I like that because it sort of represents the day that everything changed. I mean 535 days ago, I still worked at the employer who shall not be named and went to work everyday doing a job that I hated. But hey, they paid me pretty good money to do it so it wasn't like I was going to quit or anything. Then it all changed and I've been pretty darn happy for the last 534 days. Okay, I have to meet a friend in an hour so that we can attend a cooking show together, so we'll get back together soon to figure out this title thing. If you have suggestions, feel free to share. But don't get your feelings hurt if I say "uh, NO!"
It would be kind of fun to come up with a new name for the personal blog. But I'm not all that creative when it comes to titling things. I recently finished writing a book and need to distribute a couple of copies to a few friends to preview before I send it off to publishers but after spending a year and a half writing it and sitting on it for the last 2 months, I am totally unable to title the darn thing. Who would have thought that this would be the most difficult part of writing a book? I probably just place way too much importance on a title. But when I'm at Barnes & Noble browsing through the available romances, I look at two things, the title and the picture on the front. If the title isn't worthy, nothing about the picture will make me even pick up the book to read the jacket or back. Life is too short to read books with less than clever titles. I want there to be wit and substance in the books I read even if they are just cheesy romances and the title should reflect that.
It's the same with a blog. Granted, when I came up with Unemployment 101, it was pretty spur of the moment and apparently wasn't the most original title ever. I think there are several hundred blogs out there with the same title. (But the economy's fine, right Barack?) It expressed what I needed for it to say. This blog was originally created as a method of lighting a fire under myself. On the day I started this, which was day 7 of my unemployment, I had already sat on my couch and read 5 trashy romance novels and done little else. I needed something to make me accountable. So I created a blog and each day I posted a task list of the things I needed to accomplish. I was pretty good at it for a while. But I have to say that the task list hasn't been updated in months now. Even when I do post on this blog, I totally forget about it. Currently, I keep my to do list in a spiral notebook. The list du jours consists of 13 items that I must complete prior to my cruise night which is now less than 3 weeks away. As of this moment, two of the 13 items have been marked off of the list. One was marked off during the day yesterday and then added back on when Zazzle canceled my order because my artwork was incomplete. It has since been re-done and marked off again. Maybe a good new name for this blog should be Holy CRAP! Who Knew Running a Business Was So Much Work? A little wordy, right? But again, it says what I need for it to say....
Most of the items on my to do list really should have already been completed. But I only came up with the list yesterday. That was when I realized with the assistance of the receptionist at my vets office that my cruise night is only three weeks away and I still hadn't even completed the order for the snail mail invitations much less addressed them and gotten them in the mail! Yikes!!!! You might be relieved to know that this is one of the two things I was able to mark off the list yesterday. The invitations will be in my hot little hands in less than a week. Door prizes have also been ordered. That is the order that Zazzle kicked back. Beyond that, the venue was settled on a few weeks ago and I am on their calendar. And I've posted an invite on Facebook that I apparently need to re-post regularly so that people who don't live their lives on FB like a certain travel agent we all know and love does, will see it. Again, Who Knew It Was This Complicated??? Maybe a good working title would be Complications because really, isn't that what it's all about?
I've been kicking this one around for a few weeks.... tell me what you think.... A Day In The Life of A Stay At Home Cat Mom. I know! It's still wordy. But you have to admit it's clever. I mean other cat people would be all over that blog. But they would probably expect daily cat videos and photos.That's a pretty big commitment when you consider that I still have to do all of this travel agent stuff to make a living and someone's got to load cats into carriers and drive them to the vet on a pretty regular basis. This stuff doesn't do itself! Besides, that title would really lend itself to the unsubstantiated but spreading rumors that I have become one of those crazy cat ladies and I don't want that.
I think that regardless of the title that I eventually come up with, I'll always keep the day count as part of each individual post. I like that because it sort of represents the day that everything changed. I mean 535 days ago, I still worked at the employer who shall not be named and went to work everyday doing a job that I hated. But hey, they paid me pretty good money to do it so it wasn't like I was going to quit or anything. Then it all changed and I've been pretty darn happy for the last 534 days. Okay, I have to meet a friend in an hour so that we can attend a cooking show together, so we'll get back together soon to figure out this title thing. If you have suggestions, feel free to share. But don't get your feelings hurt if I say "uh, NO!"
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Day Five-Fourteen - Cats Galore!
Good morning! It's been so long since I updated this blog! I'm not ignoring it. I just haven't had time to post on this one. I spend most weekday mornings with the other blog. The travel business is busy. After all, if you want to go anywhere during the holidays this year, now is the time to book those reservations. Call me....
Since the last time I posted on this blog I have gotten a new kitten. Her name is Mrs. Beasley. I was calling her a calico but the vet says that she is a tortie since she has very little to no white hair in her coat. Since he said that I have looked at pictures on the internet and I concur. I have a tortie. The first couple of days were pretty touch and go with her. My two older cats didn't seem too happy to have a new baby sister who plays a LOT. But things are finally beginning to settle down.
I think the biggest thing that happened to change things was that Shiner went to the vet for a teeth cleaning on Friday and ended up having 6 teeth extracted. It turns out that he was in a lot of pain that he was not showing. So, he had become a lot less tolerant of everything including hyper little kittens who love to play. Every time Mrs. Beasley got close to Shiner he hissed and ran away. This is very out of character for him. He is usually my very playful cat. Meanwhile Jingle was making progress everyday getting closer and closer to Mrs. Beasley and even actually chasing her on one occasion Thursday when he lost himself and forgot that he was supposed to resent her. Since then he has become almost completely comfortable with her and is playing with her this morning!
Shiner is currently heavily drugged but he has still given me reason to hope that things are getting better. His old personality is coming back and this morning Mrs. Beasley has gone up to him several times and they have touched noses. When that happens he lays calmly as he has been all morning. When she comes running up to him, he still gets up and moves but never hisses. As long as she is calm, he is tolerant.
Shiner will have to go back to the vet in 6 months since the doctor said he has other bad teeth but they aren't as bad as the ones that were extracted. Hopefully, we can get the next ones taken care of before they begin to cause him pain. Shiner got his most recent pain shot yesterday morning. The vet says it will begin to wear off tomorrow. So we'll see how he is feeling about Mrs. Beasley as that shot starts to wear off. When he came home from the vet Friday evening he was very loopy and was apparently hallucinating. He kept seeing things in the strangest places and was chasing them. That's what is going on in the photo to the left. He was certain there was something on that wall and was determined to catch it. Later in the evening he started acting as though there was something under the couch while I was sitting on it. He was so insistent that I eventually started thinking what if there really is something under this couch... and I had to get up and move it to inspect. Sure enough nothing was there.
Jingle and Mrs. Beasley have just spent the last thirty minutes chasing one another through the house. Mrs. Beasley was doing most of the chasing. But Jingle was a big participant. So I'm thinking pretty soon I'll have three cats scampering around keeping each other busy and exercised so that I can write blogs and work on trips. This is good news for you guys because I'm going to start digging for some pretty big fall and winter discounts on cruise ships and all inclusive resorts. You're going to love this. But while I look, here are a few more photos of Mrs. Beasley to keep you entertained.
Have a happy Labor Day and I'll talk to you all soon!
Since the last time I posted on this blog I have gotten a new kitten. Her name is Mrs. Beasley. I was calling her a calico but the vet says that she is a tortie since she has very little to no white hair in her coat. Since he said that I have looked at pictures on the internet and I concur. I have a tortie. The first couple of days were pretty touch and go with her. My two older cats didn't seem too happy to have a new baby sister who plays a LOT. But things are finally beginning to settle down.
I think the biggest thing that happened to change things was that Shiner went to the vet for a teeth cleaning on Friday and ended up having 6 teeth extracted. It turns out that he was in a lot of pain that he was not showing. So, he had become a lot less tolerant of everything including hyper little kittens who love to play. Every time Mrs. Beasley got close to Shiner he hissed and ran away. This is very out of character for him. He is usually my very playful cat. Meanwhile Jingle was making progress everyday getting closer and closer to Mrs. Beasley and even actually chasing her on one occasion Thursday when he lost himself and forgot that he was supposed to resent her. Since then he has become almost completely comfortable with her and is playing with her this morning!
Shiner is currently heavily drugged but he has still given me reason to hope that things are getting better. His old personality is coming back and this morning Mrs. Beasley has gone up to him several times and they have touched noses. When that happens he lays calmly as he has been all morning. When she comes running up to him, he still gets up and moves but never hisses. As long as she is calm, he is tolerant. Shiner will have to go back to the vet in 6 months since the doctor said he has other bad teeth but they aren't as bad as the ones that were extracted. Hopefully, we can get the next ones taken care of before they begin to cause him pain. Shiner got his most recent pain shot yesterday morning. The vet says it will begin to wear off tomorrow. So we'll see how he is feeling about Mrs. Beasley as that shot starts to wear off. When he came home from the vet Friday evening he was very loopy and was apparently hallucinating. He kept seeing things in the strangest places and was chasing them. That's what is going on in the photo to the left. He was certain there was something on that wall and was determined to catch it. Later in the evening he started acting as though there was something under the couch while I was sitting on it. He was so insistent that I eventually started thinking what if there really is something under this couch... and I had to get up and move it to inspect. Sure enough nothing was there.
Jingle and Mrs. Beasley have just spent the last thirty minutes chasing one another through the house. Mrs. Beasley was doing most of the chasing. But Jingle was a big participant. So I'm thinking pretty soon I'll have three cats scampering around keeping each other busy and exercised so that I can write blogs and work on trips. This is good news for you guys because I'm going to start digging for some pretty big fall and winter discounts on cruise ships and all inclusive resorts. You're going to love this. But while I look, here are a few more photos of Mrs. Beasley to keep you entertained.
Have a happy Labor Day and I'll talk to you all soon!
Thursday, August 15, 2013
Day Four-Ninety-Seven - Welcome to Texas
I love my neighborhood. One of the things I like best about it is the cultural diversity of the area. It is not unusual at all to see Hasidic Jews in all their ethnic garb walking down the bike/pedestrian trail. Many times as I walk or ride my bike on the trail, I'll see Indians and Pakistanis in their ethnic garb, as well as others also out enjoying the trail in our neighborhood. We all get along, it's culturally nice and I like it.
But here's the thing that drives me crazy. Every year at about this time the area has a new very large influx of Asian immigrants who don't plan to live in the USA for long. Just long enough to get their relatively cheap education at UT-Dallas. They're here on student visas. This past week, they were arriving in the apartments around the area in droves. Literally, droves! I saw 12 of them exiting a single Super Shuttle at the apartments down the street on Monday with tons of luggage. That's fine. I think it's great that they can come here and get an inexpensive education and then return to their home country to make it better. (Or perhaps to answer the phone anytime I call my credit card company....) The issue I have has to do with their total disregard for personal space and that they are under the misguided impression that the world revolves around them.
I get it. They are young "enlightened" people, who just like young Americans that travel abroad feel that what they are doing is worth having everyone around them stop and observe. Hey everybody!!!! Look at me! I'm away from home for the first time without my parents and I'm an idiot!!!! I totally get it. But it doesn't mean I like it. In fact I am fed up with it.
Since they are just arriving in the country they are stocking their homes and dorms. I went to Target yesterday afternoon for a very painful hour. Normally, I can get in and out of Target in no time at all, you know as long as there is enough money in the bank to cover it. I was slowed quite a bit yesterday by non-English speaking Asians who were trying to figure out complicated things like milk. I waited patiently for more than 3 minutes while two men speaking a foreign language I have never heard, debated milk blocking the entire milk case as they did so. I'm not sure about the nature of their debate. But they kept picking up different types of milk ranging from organic to domestic to even soy and then discussing them. Then once they finally decided on organic, they ran into the issue of whole, low fat or fat free! It was apparently a big deal for them. After 3 minutes, when a line began to form, I decided that I had been polite for long enough and interrupted there milk debate reaching between them to get my fat free organic milk. When that happened they seemed somewhat shocked by my presence and quickly moved aside and let others get their milk.
When it was time for me to check out. I went to the shortest line I could find. Another of the women who I remembered as being behind me at the milk case during the great milk debate was in the process of checking out. The checkout was nearly cleared and there was a young Asian woman behind her but nothing was on the the conveyor belt. She had a basket full of stuff but was just standing about watching what was going on around her. Perhaps at the Target in India, some little slumdog kid comes out and empties your cart onto the conveyor for you so that the young ladies don't have to touch the vulgar thing. But in Texas, you are responsible for putting it on the conveyor yourself. I guess no one told her about this. So, I put one of those bars down across the conveyor and started emptying my cart thinking she would get the message and begin to empty hers in front of the bar I had laid down. To her credit she did finally figure it out but not until after the boy working the checkout had turned the conveyor on moving all of my stuff up to the front so that she kept having to push it back so that she could get more of her stuff on.
It was really enough to make you feel sorry for her. She was clueless. I finally started holding onto the bar so that she could finish emptying her cart. (Little Jose working the checkout had no clue about the struggle taking place and was NOT going to turn that conveyor off to save his life. No, really, I'm not making this up. His name was Jose.) Then she was completely unprepared to pay using American money which she was probably dealing with for the first time. Someone else from her group of students finally took pity on her and came to help with that process. Of course, they seriously crowded my personal space when that took place. But at least they were moving the process along.
When I finally got out of Target, she along with a large group of other foreign students were making their way across the street toward UT-D pushing their shopping carts from Target. (By the way, it is unlawful to remove from the parking lot.) Just as I drove by a Richardson policeman was stopping behind them. I'm assuming he was politely letting them know that removing the carts from the premises is unlawful. God bless him. I'm sure he had his hands full.
The thing is that they come from horribly over crowded and miserable places. Because of that, they have little regard for personal space. They are okay with standing against me in line. This is Texas. We have wide open spaces here. We don't deal well with being nudged in the back by strangers. I particularly don't deal well with it. In fact, I get down right ugly when someone standing behind me continually rubs up against me. Ask anyone. They will tell you. I also don't care how cute or funny all of your friends think you are. When I am in a group of strangers, I prefer that we all remain strangers. I don't want to be entertained by you. I don't want to hear your overly loud conversation either in my language or in a some crazy-ass foreign language.
So my message is this. Welcome to Texas. Please keep your voice down and keep your hands to yourself unless you are handsome, rich and between the ages of 50 and 60 and plan to buy me dinner.
But here's the thing that drives me crazy. Every year at about this time the area has a new very large influx of Asian immigrants who don't plan to live in the USA for long. Just long enough to get their relatively cheap education at UT-Dallas. They're here on student visas. This past week, they were arriving in the apartments around the area in droves. Literally, droves! I saw 12 of them exiting a single Super Shuttle at the apartments down the street on Monday with tons of luggage. That's fine. I think it's great that they can come here and get an inexpensive education and then return to their home country to make it better. (Or perhaps to answer the phone anytime I call my credit card company....) The issue I have has to do with their total disregard for personal space and that they are under the misguided impression that the world revolves around them.
I get it. They are young "enlightened" people, who just like young Americans that travel abroad feel that what they are doing is worth having everyone around them stop and observe. Hey everybody!!!! Look at me! I'm away from home for the first time without my parents and I'm an idiot!!!! I totally get it. But it doesn't mean I like it. In fact I am fed up with it.
Since they are just arriving in the country they are stocking their homes and dorms. I went to Target yesterday afternoon for a very painful hour. Normally, I can get in and out of Target in no time at all, you know as long as there is enough money in the bank to cover it. I was slowed quite a bit yesterday by non-English speaking Asians who were trying to figure out complicated things like milk. I waited patiently for more than 3 minutes while two men speaking a foreign language I have never heard, debated milk blocking the entire milk case as they did so. I'm not sure about the nature of their debate. But they kept picking up different types of milk ranging from organic to domestic to even soy and then discussing them. Then once they finally decided on organic, they ran into the issue of whole, low fat or fat free! It was apparently a big deal for them. After 3 minutes, when a line began to form, I decided that I had been polite for long enough and interrupted there milk debate reaching between them to get my fat free organic milk. When that happened they seemed somewhat shocked by my presence and quickly moved aside and let others get their milk.
When it was time for me to check out. I went to the shortest line I could find. Another of the women who I remembered as being behind me at the milk case during the great milk debate was in the process of checking out. The checkout was nearly cleared and there was a young Asian woman behind her but nothing was on the the conveyor belt. She had a basket full of stuff but was just standing about watching what was going on around her. Perhaps at the Target in India, some little slumdog kid comes out and empties your cart onto the conveyor for you so that the young ladies don't have to touch the vulgar thing. But in Texas, you are responsible for putting it on the conveyor yourself. I guess no one told her about this. So, I put one of those bars down across the conveyor and started emptying my cart thinking she would get the message and begin to empty hers in front of the bar I had laid down. To her credit she did finally figure it out but not until after the boy working the checkout had turned the conveyor on moving all of my stuff up to the front so that she kept having to push it back so that she could get more of her stuff on.
It was really enough to make you feel sorry for her. She was clueless. I finally started holding onto the bar so that she could finish emptying her cart. (Little Jose working the checkout had no clue about the struggle taking place and was NOT going to turn that conveyor off to save his life. No, really, I'm not making this up. His name was Jose.) Then she was completely unprepared to pay using American money which she was probably dealing with for the first time. Someone else from her group of students finally took pity on her and came to help with that process. Of course, they seriously crowded my personal space when that took place. But at least they were moving the process along.
When I finally got out of Target, she along with a large group of other foreign students were making their way across the street toward UT-D pushing their shopping carts from Target. (By the way, it is unlawful to remove from the parking lot.) Just as I drove by a Richardson policeman was stopping behind them. I'm assuming he was politely letting them know that removing the carts from the premises is unlawful. God bless him. I'm sure he had his hands full.
The thing is that they come from horribly over crowded and miserable places. Because of that, they have little regard for personal space. They are okay with standing against me in line. This is Texas. We have wide open spaces here. We don't deal well with being nudged in the back by strangers. I particularly don't deal well with it. In fact, I get down right ugly when someone standing behind me continually rubs up against me. Ask anyone. They will tell you. I also don't care how cute or funny all of your friends think you are. When I am in a group of strangers, I prefer that we all remain strangers. I don't want to be entertained by you. I don't want to hear your overly loud conversation either in my language or in a some crazy-ass foreign language.
So my message is this. Welcome to Texas. Please keep your voice down and keep your hands to yourself unless you are handsome, rich and between the ages of 50 and 60 and plan to buy me dinner.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Day Four-Ninety-Three - Who's Crazy Now?
What the hell happened???? When did dogs take over the world and begin television programming? I went out with friends last night who are mostly dog owners and was informed that there is now a TV station specifically for dogs. Really! It's called DogTV. If you have DirecTV, it is channel 354. I can confirm this because it is currently airing on my television as I type.
Right now it consists of bubbles rushing to the surface of water and underwater bubble sounds. Before this, it was a close up of a lava lamp with classical music. I can't believe that some of you think cat people are crazy. Oh, now they are showing dogs dozing off on the furniture I'm assuming while you are away from home. Way to instill bad habits in your dogs!
The most frightening thing about this, though, is that on the Guide there is a banner that states that this is a free trial from 8/1 - 8/14. From that I assume that this is a premium channel and if your dog gets addicted to it, you'll have to pay extra for a TV channel for your dogs. People, my cats do NOT require premium TV channels. In fact they might be content if the TV was never even turned on. Now they are showing video of a quiet morning in some foreign land and people fishing. By the way, only 6 minutes has gone by since I changed channels to this DogTV and already I have described to you, what? four different doggie viewing experiences that they have aired? Should I draw from this that they must assume that your dogs have remarkably short attention spans???? Doesn't speak too highly of them.
My cats can watch a piece of prey for an hour waiting to see what moves it will make and determining how best to take it down. Of course, sometimes that "prey" is a little red dot from the laser pointer I use to get them moving. But still, they will follow it around as long as my finger can continue to press the "on" button.
I have a friend with whom I go out pretty often. When we leave her house, she leaves her TV on for the dog's entertainment so I'm sure she is loving this channel. In fact she is the one who told me about it yesterday. If I left the TV on in my house when I left, my cats would go to another room to get away from the constant noise.
I like dogs. There have been many times that I wished I could have one. The problem is that I have never really lived in a place suitable for dogs. I don't have a back yard and I don't have the time to devote to walking a dog a couple of times a day since I don't have a yard. Additionally, as it turns out, I am apparently a low maintenance kind of pet person. It didn't dawn on me until today. But an animal that must be taken outside every single time it needs to pee is a problem for me!
Sure, I'll admit that I have people come to feed my cats daily when I am away from home. But if it got down to it, I could leave for a week, set up an automated feeder and waterer and leave them alone and come home to two healthy cats. They'd be a little pissy, but they would still be healthy and all of their waste would be in their litter boxes.
On the other hand, I don't doubt for a minute that if I died in my apartment and it took more than a few hours for someone to find me that Shiner would begin feeding on my fingers by the end of the first day. He's a survivor, what can I say? But you've gotta respect that about him! He doesn't require entertainment or anything else from humans. He'll figure it all out on his own.
So call me a crazy cat lady all you want. At least I'm not paying for premium satellite service for a dog. Who's crazy now?
Right now it consists of bubbles rushing to the surface of water and underwater bubble sounds. Before this, it was a close up of a lava lamp with classical music. I can't believe that some of you think cat people are crazy. Oh, now they are showing dogs dozing off on the furniture I'm assuming while you are away from home. Way to instill bad habits in your dogs!
The most frightening thing about this, though, is that on the Guide there is a banner that states that this is a free trial from 8/1 - 8/14. From that I assume that this is a premium channel and if your dog gets addicted to it, you'll have to pay extra for a TV channel for your dogs. People, my cats do NOT require premium TV channels. In fact they might be content if the TV was never even turned on. Now they are showing video of a quiet morning in some foreign land and people fishing. By the way, only 6 minutes has gone by since I changed channels to this DogTV and already I have described to you, what? four different doggie viewing experiences that they have aired? Should I draw from this that they must assume that your dogs have remarkably short attention spans???? Doesn't speak too highly of them.
My cats can watch a piece of prey for an hour waiting to see what moves it will make and determining how best to take it down. Of course, sometimes that "prey" is a little red dot from the laser pointer I use to get them moving. But still, they will follow it around as long as my finger can continue to press the "on" button.
I have a friend with whom I go out pretty often. When we leave her house, she leaves her TV on for the dog's entertainment so I'm sure she is loving this channel. In fact she is the one who told me about it yesterday. If I left the TV on in my house when I left, my cats would go to another room to get away from the constant noise.
I like dogs. There have been many times that I wished I could have one. The problem is that I have never really lived in a place suitable for dogs. I don't have a back yard and I don't have the time to devote to walking a dog a couple of times a day since I don't have a yard. Additionally, as it turns out, I am apparently a low maintenance kind of pet person. It didn't dawn on me until today. But an animal that must be taken outside every single time it needs to pee is a problem for me!
Sure, I'll admit that I have people come to feed my cats daily when I am away from home. But if it got down to it, I could leave for a week, set up an automated feeder and waterer and leave them alone and come home to two healthy cats. They'd be a little pissy, but they would still be healthy and all of their waste would be in their litter boxes.
On the other hand, I don't doubt for a minute that if I died in my apartment and it took more than a few hours for someone to find me that Shiner would begin feeding on my fingers by the end of the first day. He's a survivor, what can I say? But you've gotta respect that about him! He doesn't require entertainment or anything else from humans. He'll figure it all out on his own.
So call me a crazy cat lady all you want. At least I'm not paying for premium satellite service for a dog. Who's crazy now?
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