La La

I thought you all might find this mildy amusing. God knows my daughter does.

God Bless Ashlee Simpson's little lip-synching heart. I have her new single "La La" stuck in my head. It is not only stuck in my head.. I am singing it.... out loud. Incessantly. No lip synching for me, oh no! Much to the amusement of my husband and daughter. Am I singing only the chorus "You make me want to La La..."? Aw Hell no. Of course not! This is ME here people! Its more along the lines of....

"You make me want to La La, in the kitchen on the floor, I'll be your French Maid, when I greet you at the door, I'm like an alley cat, drink the milk up I want more... you make me wanna.... you make me wanna..... Scream.".

Heh.

Yeah darlings, ALL that I sing, over and over again... out loud.... and more of it too. And it DOES. NOT. STOP. And sometimes? I dance a bit too. My life in musical form. Who ever said musicals are not realistic versions of life? That no one goes through life actually breaking in to song and dance when the mood hits them? I mean, Catrina, come on girl and back me up here... I distinctly remember SEVERAL of us singing and dancing in the back at the restaurant we worked at when I was in college. For the hell of it and because we damn well felt like it. So yeah, it does really happen in real life.

So 'They', whomever they might be,(the ones that said that crapola about musicals) were obviously high on something because it is so very obviously not true. I'd like to walk right up to them and say......

"You make me wanna LA LA in the kitchen on the floor......."

Inquisition Confession – Week 15

Well my darling blog readers, welcome to another Inquisition week and the answers you seek to the questions that burn your collective brains to a crisp. You've all been visiting over and over to see if I posted the answers, didn't you? Waiting with baited breath so to speak, eh?

Okay, maybe not, but let me have a happy thought, hmmm? I could use all the happy thoughts I can get, you know?

It would seem that my darling and beautiful daughter Arianna created a monster this week with most of the questions as most of them are animation/cartoon related save one. That is fine by me! It turns out that Ari's simple statement/question/suggestion/Direct ORDER about me letting y'all know my favorite Disney Princess turned into a poll or meme of sorts. That's ALL good. I like it! I like it. I get to know a little something about you all while I spill my guts.

Well, on to the good stuff.

Cheryl b. asked me:

I'm going to guess Cinderella (evil stepmother-evil MIL, it's all the same). Tell Ari that my fave is Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Mark just got me a Belle porcelain doll dressed like a ballerina. I'm so not a girly girl but I love me some Disney princesses.

Question time! What animated character do you find attractive?.

Weeeel sugar, the animated character I find most attractive is…:

Gaston from Beauty and the Beast. He is hot. Until he opens his mouth, that is. He just needs a personality transplant. But that guy is good eye candy. Gorgeous. The Beast, when he becomes human is pretty cute too, but that Gaston? Num num.

Carrie Jo, in keeping with the animation theme asked:

What is your all-time favorite cartoon character and why?

I love me some Bugs Bunny. I adore Bugs Bunny. I really REALLY do. Bugs is so damn cute, awfully smart, sarcastic as shit, and is absolutely adorable. I also love it when Bugs dresses up in drag, especially as Carmen Miranda. It cracks my ass up. Yes, Bugs is a renaissance bunny!!

Grown woman that I am, and having seen every single Bugs Bunny episode evah countless times, I will STILL sit down and watch that scrrewy wabbit and laugh my tail off.

Mare asked me:

Do you prefer pantyhose, thigh highs, knee highs, or garter belts and stockings?

oh and if we're taking a poll, my favorite Disney Princess is Princess Aurora from Sleeping Beauty. I love that movie. Unfortunately all her merchandise has her in a pink dress and I'm of the "make it blue" persuasion.

Well, practically speaking, I usually use pantyhose but, on special occasions have been known to use garter belts and stockings. But for everyday?? Pantyhose.

I love thigh highs, but, they are a bit uncomfortable because I have quite curvy/ muscular thighs from all those years of dance classes. It's that grippy thing I think on the insides. My skin is pretty sensitive too, so that grippy stuff doesn’t' go over too well.

A little sekrit? I absolutely adore black seamed stockings or hose. Love em.

A little funny fact: I heard once about a study that was done on female drivers that wear pantyhose vs. ladies that wear garter belts and stockings. Interestingly enough, the garter belt/stocking wearers were better drivers.

I wonder what MAN thought up THAT study?? Hahaha.

Now, for my favorite Disney Princess… Cheryl B guessed it. My favorite STORY is Cinderella. Ever since I was a little thing I loved that story. Princess Aurora is my second favorite Princess. (Ari's favorite is Aurora also like Mare "Make it Blue" persuasion as am I.) Our favorite scene is the war of the wands over what color to make the dress. It's a crack up. My MIL laughs just like Maleficent, by the way! Bwahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaa.

For the record… the Princess that gets on my LAST DAMN NERVE is Snow White. The Dwarves, I love, but Snow White? Can you say nails on chalkboard? Ari (who is reading over my shoulder as I type)said that her Grandmonster looks suspiciously like the person in Snow White that offers her the poisoned apple.

Hey! I didn't say it, I'm just repeating!!

Thank you ladies that asked me questions this week. Until my next post, I bid you all farewell!

The End

Three Strikes...

When you read the title of this post, I bet you thought baseball. Well, I'm NOT going to talk about baseball. It has nothing to do with baseball in fact and more to do with a type of Karma. (since I refuse to say clumsiness!)

See, the weekend has been particularly bountiful in the curses hurled at my head by you-know-who. (How about we call her Voldemort? Haha. You Harry Potter fans will get a kick out of that, I bet!) I have not the slightest idea why the upsurge in vehment curses, but an upsurge there was. In fact, the curses and screaming and all within feet of me, at me, made me almost come []this close to losing my temper. (that would be U-G-L-Y) Somehow I managed to hold on to it. I know that if I flipped my lid, it would be a major incident with EVERYONE coming down on my ass and I frankly wasn't in the mood for it. (ok, them)

Tonight a number of things happened to me in a very short amount of time.

First thing: I went into the Kitchen with the intention to get something from the pantry. I walk up to the closed double door of the pantry, right hand on doorknob, left hand in center of doors to push open and BANG, I push the door open and it shuts on the pad of my left hand ring finger pinching the hell out of it. Well, I've gotten my finger pinched in any number of ways and I didn't think I'd done anything to it. In the second it took me to pull my hand back and flip it over for a look, there was blood POURING FROM IT IN BIG FAT RED DROPS. We are talking instant gusher. It hurt(s) like a sonofabitch too. Still. Off I run to wash it clean and patch myself up with a Band-aid and some Neosporin ointment. It bled for a while and still hurts like hell.

Please forgive any screwed up spelling on this post, as it hurts to type.

Second thing: decide to sit on the sofa with a nice cup of tea and my polar fleece blanket and watch some TV with the hubby. Only, he is in the shower. Never mind that. I brought our tea out and placed it on the cofffe table. I thought I'd sit and do some needlework while I waited for him to finish and so, as I stood, I took my blanket in hand and turned to sit down. Somehow a corner of my EXTREMELY lightweight blanket knocked over my FULL teacup ON TO THE FLOOR, where it bounced on the TILE and onto MY PERSIAN CARPET. (Did I mention that this is my favorite Persian carpet of the three I own?? No? Well, it IS! I love it. It is a Tabriz style and done in a majority of light and bright colors and is 60% silk. The background in the center of it is pale CREAM. Yes, hot milky tea with some sugar in it being dumped on it freaked me the hell out. I didn't care that there was tea everywhere, including UNDER the (also) cream sofa, or on my blanket, or anything else. I was freaked thinking that the tea would stain the carpet irreparably (I was most concerned about the areas where colors were cream, pale blue/aqua and a very pale pastel salmon color). Tea stains like a motherfucker.

Off to the kitchen for an obscene amount of dry and wet towels to mop and clean the mess up. Picture me on all fours, tail in the air, cursing under my breath and unable to use much of the left hand for scrubbing since it still hurts like hell from thing no 1, so slight whimpering when the injury is accidently pressed or touched, soaking up tea and mopping and scrubbing gently the carpet.

Carpet seems all right now, but a big ass portion of it is damp, so, I will know more when it dries. *prays*

Third thing: I still wanted tea dammit and I had a nice thermal teapot flask thingie full, so what did I do? I rinsed out my teacup and refilled that sucker. Uh huh. I promptly noticed the tea POURING OUT THE BOTTOM OF IT. Yeah. More fucking tea all over the damn place and no, the cursing is not so much under my breath anymore, ok? Turns out the cup has a crack in the bottom CORNER of it. Well shit. This is part of a set, dammit. Into the trash it goes. More tea clean up. I kinda lost the tea urge after that, you know what I mean?

Three strikes and I'm out, right? So, my ass should be safe for a little bit right? Maybe I should stay in bed just to be safe?

Anything is possible. I mean, jeez. Angel is due to have her kittens in 3 days, her tummy hasn't dropped yet, and she is stuck to me like glue. I walk, she walks, I sit,she sits. I take a shower, she watches. (Oh wait, that's not new!) I think, bless her little (little HAH! LITTLE MY cute ass!) butt, that she has decided to have her kittens under my headboard. Again. I hate when she does that. As is, she's on my "list" today for what she did to my breakfast.

Turns out fuzzy mama likes peanut butter. I had a cinnamon rasin bagel with peanut butter.... I turned my head for a second, looked back and found her going to town licking the peanut butter from the bagel. Cow. Heh. She ate the half she had attacked, bagel, rasins and all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a little reminder if you want to play my weekly Inquisition, please leave or email me a question. I already have one from my daughter who seems to think it is imperative that you all know who is my favorite fairytale princess. (You know, the Disney girls). Yeah, I'm actually going to answer that on my blog to save my ass from her nagging.

I'll give you a freeebie answer early. Like now.

Mayo or Mustard on sandwiches?: Mayo on all sandwiches, not mustard with one little exception: Ham. I like mustard on ham sandwiches, but then again, I don't remember the last time I had a ham sandwich.....

Everything you can think of on a hamburger (make that cheesburger, please) Mustard, mayo, ketchup, secret sauce, whatever.. and everything (ketchup, mustard, e-z relish, onions and/or chili) BUT sauerkraut on a hot dog.

Well hell, I've got the munchies now!

Rain and Rambling

I find that suddenly, sitting here in front of my monitor, hands in position on the keyboard (yes, I type properly!), I have completely forgotten what I had planned on writing about. It was actually going to be a good post. It just kind of… went on vacation I suppose. Wish I could go on vacation. Heh.

Well, when I am at 'War' with life, or trying to work out the best strategy regardless of the particularly crappy hand I've been dealt, whatever the case may be, I tend to do that every now and then. You know, misplace my thoughts. Stress does effect my concentration in the worst way sometimes which really irritates me more than you can imagine. I usually have a frightfully sharp memory; so much so that a number of very dear people that know me very well say my mind is like a steel trap. Even taking that into consideration, why I am surprised about my brilliant (ha!) posts' departure from my mind is completely beyond me. Things are kind of messed up at present.

Perhaps it is the soothing sound of rain falling outside that made my thoughts drift away. The rain is a bit heavy tonight and it is so nice to hear. I've always loved the sound of rain and, well moving water in general. We don't usually get a great deal of rain here- not more than four or five days a year- so this year is a real exception to the 'rule', so to speak and I'm enjoying it for what it's worth.

I was over at the triplets' house when it started. Thankfully I had a big scarf with me to throw over my head, but to be honest? I didn't drape it all that carefully on the way back to my house walking. It was kind of nice feeling the fat raindrops hitting my nose, wetting my lips and eyelashes. I was frankly more concerned about slipping and falling flat on my backside than getting a little wet in the rain the length of time it would take me to walk down the street two houses. Scarlett fall go boom! No. Not if I can help it.

To think that this time last year I had such hope and a bright outlook for the future. I was trying to get over yet another IVF failure, yet busily planning another try, try number 3. I was busily praying to God above that it would work THIS time. Little did I know it wouldn't and IVF 4 would be cancelled after weeks of hell and hope! In the back of my mind, I plan for IVF 5 when better days arrive and things are more stable. Well, I suppose I am nothing if not tenacious. It helps me survive to go on. Well that and, I suppose, the ticking of my biological clock.

Its funny that Z and I both started new jobs, GOOD jobs with great salaries, benefits and excellent potential (or so we thought) within a month or so of each other last year. Both offers were dropped unexpectedly in our laps. I wasn't looking for a job, I was quite content where I was. The salary could have been better, but it was balanced out by a fantastic boss. The new job offer for me was a 62% salary increase with benefits and annual guaranteed bonus with great working hours. I mean make a pro & con list… its pretty obvious I should give it a shot, and so I did. The new boss was a friend of my fantastic boss and literally stole me from him. Six months later they decided to phase out my position entirely in order to cut corners due to upcoming complete privatization. As an expatriate worker (and the only westerner), I was completely expendable, obviously.

What is funny is that that was almost the exact same reason Z has lost his 'new' job.

I've been looking for jobs ever since. The market for Western women in my field is up and down. I have worked my ass off for the last 13 years or so to reach the senior level and gain the experience I have. Now? Now I hear I'm OVERQUALIFIED. *gag, retch* Give a girl a damn break, willya?

Even so, I figured with a little time (hopefully not TOO MUCH) and patience I would find a good job for myself. Thankfully Z was working and had a good job. I didn't have to worry about a roof over my head or food for my child too much. We could manage and squeeze by even without my salary somehow for the time being.

Then on December 16 we found out about the government loan for the house. WOW! I thought perhaps this was the sign I was waiting for. Even without me working, we could still find and get a house. A house was a real goal for both of us. It is one of the many reasons we moved here. For a fresh start.

Three weeks later I find out Z has been given 30 days notice at work and for basically the same reason I had been let go! Talk about feeling like your world is crashing down! Ok, maybe despair is more like it.

We will get back on our feet again, eventually. I'm like a cat that way. Hopefully sooner than later. But sometimes I feel like I've used up waaaaay too many of my 9 lives!

Not that I don't have hopes. I do. If you lose all of your hope, you die. If you don't have dreams, you have nothing. Even if you attain dreams and goals, they need to be replaced by others. I also know that friends – true friends - are as valuable as pure gold or the most flawless and rare of diamonds. Perhaps worth even more. You also find out who your real friends are when you are down, at your lowest point.

I have found this out – painfully – the hard way… several times.

There are people I truly believed to be genuine friends that, when the chips were down, were incommunicado quicker than you could blink. This is doubly painful for me as I pride myself on being a very good and accurate judge of character and the few times I misjudge really bothers me.

It pisses me off too. I don't give my true friendship so easily. I do make friends easily or acquaintances, but true friends? It depends on what I see of the person because when I give my love and loyalty to someone and they are my friend, they are in my heart, and that is IT. I am always there for them if they need me, even if only to make them smile for a minute or two. If I don't come through for someone when they need me, then it was physically impossible for me to do so. I am never too busy for someone if they truly need me, even if only for a little chat or they need someone to listen or advice. I make the time.

In my book friends are friends through thick and thin, through good and bad, rich or poor. A friendship is like a marriage. It is give and take. Not all give on one side and take on the other. It's a damn shame not everyone believes that.

It bothers me when I am judged based on what others might say (same is true for my whole Monster situation when she talks also!) about me without knowing the truth, or at least both sides of things. I tend to confront. I like to get to the bottom of things. And I know when I've been backstabbed, also. I can feel it. If I hear that someone has said this or that, I tend to go to the person and ask why they felt the need to say that. It is interesting to watch people try and squirm and lie their way out of their troublemaking and compounding their lies when confronted with the proof of their actions. I've been accused every now and then of not being genuine in my actions because of how I am by people that are not like me at all. That is just.... lame.

Z tells me sometimes that my problem is expecting of others what I expect of myself. I hate to admit it, but maybe he is right. He also says I forgive too easily, I'm way too nice and giving and I give second chances when they are probably not deserved.

He is probably right about that too. But I just can't bring myself to be a cold asshole. It isn't who I am. I am loyal to those I love and am extremely protective of the people that fall into that category. If you hurt someone I care for, you have just made an enemy of me for life. I'm a helper. I'm a giver. I forgive. But I'm NOT a doormat. I do have my limits.

It doesn't make it hurt any less though.

Perhaps he says that because that is the code he lives by. If someone burns him, watch out. (Catrina knows him and can vouch for what I say!) He doesn't believe in second chances (unless it's giving his blood family a 300th chance. But that's neither here nor there) On his enemy list is a place I would never want to be. He can be devious and vicious in the extreme when he is out for revenge. Hence my nickname for him of Stealth Bomber. He comes in under the radar when you least expect it, and you don't even realize he's dropped the bomb of his revenge on you till it's on your head!

But that is not me. Perhaps my Mama said it best: "My girl is happiest when she is making others around her happy, and she has been that way ever since she was a little child. If she cares for you, you can expect 200% all the time from her and she is happy to give it, gladly. Because if you are happy, she is happy."

That's not such a bad way to be, is it?

I think I'll go listen to the rain a little more and let it hopefully lull me to sleep. I could use some proper sleep.

Good Night.

Feels SO Good

I spent an interesting afternoon with a darling, wonderful male that made my heart sing today.

He is so charming and irresistible with an imploring smile I couldn't refuse, so I did as he so obviously wanted and took him in my arms. He insisted on being right next to me and didn't want to share me at all… with anyone. He gave me those 'sad puppy' eyes until he had me all to himself. Who can resist that, I ask you? I certainly can't, that's for sure!

So there I sat on the sofa, sometimes touching his face, others stroking his soft and silky black hair. For a time, I thought he would be content just to be so close to me as I was content with him held so close to my body, but no. As with most of his sex, it was just the beginning, sort of.

He slowly pulled back ever so slightly, looked in my eyes and smiled. Then he slid down a bit and rested his head on my chest. I couldn't help but smile at this to myself. Next thing I knew, he turned his head and buried his face in my cleavage after having slightly tugged aside my v-neck sweater so that he could rest his face against my skin. It seemed as if he was memorizing the scent of my skin. Every so often he would pull back, stare at my face with the sweetest smile, gaze into my eyes searchingly, then lay back down and adjust his position on my breasts. Sometimes he would rest his cheek there, skin to skin and look off into space, deep in his own thoughts. Occasionally he would sigh contentedly

He certainly seemed at peace resting his head just above my heart, relaxed and pliant and I wondered what his thoughts were even as his wandering hands had already moved from touching my hair and stroking my arms to finally slip inside my sweater's neckline just to rest there on the curve of my breast. We lay like this for at least a half an hour content and peaceful with me occasionally leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

Laying like this with him made me ache for something I'm afraid I might never be able to have, yet that didn't make me enjoy this time any less.

For someone that has had such a rough time of things lately, (one of my best friends in the whole world has jokingly referred to my life at present as a War) I find that I have to snatch moments of happiness wherever I can find them.

Today I found such a moment of happiness with my 7-month old nephew Khalid, the only boy of the triplets I love so much it hurts my soul, nestled in my arms, head resting against my breasts, sighing every now and then and rubbing his footsie clad feet against me softly, listening to my heartbeat for a time.

This time with Khalid was stolen time because his sister Talya demanded her own time and is very territorial with me. I am HERS and she doesn't like to share. I had them almost all to myself since the triplets parents are gone for a week with their big sister aged 3.

I must admit one thing about him. If he is this charming and such a ladies man at 7 months, what in the hell will he be like at 17? At 27?

Oh never mind, I'll just enjoy my time with him and his two sisters while I can and pray that someday soon, when my 'war' with life has finally come to a time of Peace, that I will be able to hold my own little son or daughter (or both if I ended up with twins!) in my arms as much as I want and shower the love I have to give on my own child.

Until then, I must remember to repeat to myself regularly :"Patience is a virtue and will be rewarded".

*Sigh*

Sharing Is Caring

Or so I've been told. What it comes down to is this:

What I saw watching TV last night just HAS to be shared with my readers. Full stop.

See, I had heard that such a thing existed from a fellow blogger on her blog, but honestly? You have to hear, or in my case, see it, to believe it. Actually, in my case, I read about it first a couple of months ago, but couldn't really decided if it was a joke or not, then last week I HEARD it on the local radio station and was, well, astounded. So last night was the final nail in the coffin for me.

See, last night while innocently channel surfing through my collection of music channels (I love the Italian ones best!) on the satellite dish, I saw William Shatner's -that's Captain James T. Kirk of the Starship USS Enterprise or T.J. Hooker for those of you scratching your heads in confusion- new music video. *screams:"My Eyes!!! MY EYES!!!!!!"*

Yeah. A video. For a song. (sorta) It's kind of beatnik jazz and he is basically reciting poetry over it, but still. Dude has a record out, it is getting AIRPLAY on local radio in the middle of nowhere (ie: where I live) and..... AND the video (zzzzZZZZzzzZzZzzzzZZZZZ) is getting airplay on European music channels. Just so you know, his single is called "It Hasn't Happened" and my hearing is yet intact.

While watching the video like a deer caught in the headlights with the most STUPID look on my face I am QUITE sure, I noticed something that kind of tickled me. The woman singing in the background of what was actually fairly decent music ruined by the drone of Captain Kirk, well, the woman.. it sounded JUST LIKE the 'singing' on the themesong to Star Trek. I'm serious. hahahahhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Just thinking about my realizing that cracks me up.

What I still can't belive is that my nice and reliable (and frankly? Most often are damn gorgeous too!) Italian VJ's, who usually play such a fantastic broad range of GOOD (keyword here people: GOOD) music stooped to playing this.

If it were German VJ's or DJ's, then I could totally understand. I mean come ON! The German music loving public dies, absolutely DIES for David Hasselhoff. (I have seen record stores in Germany in person, and I tell the truth. Rows upon rows of David Hasselhoff CD's. His concerts Sell out in minutes. Google it if you don't belive me. Go on.)

First Knight Rider and then Captian Kirk. Who the hell is next, The Terminator? Maybe J.R. Ewing.

Good Lord above. It is sad beyond belief.

Has anyone else heard this? Don't let me suffer alone.. .please!

Inquisition Confession – Week 14

Welcome one, welcome all.

I will cut to the chase today, hmmm? I mean, Catrina sounded hungry if you ask me because she asked this:

Question: Do you know how to cook samboosa?

Funny thing you should ask me that. I was making cheese samboosas last night! Also I made vegetable ones. It's funny because I don't make them all that often so imagine my surprise when I read your question, hmmm? They weren't those big ass Punjabi ones that are HUGE or anything, but the regular small ones.

So, yeah babe, I sure do. And Cat? You just HAD to ask me that samboosa question, didn't you? (private joke)

Now on to Cheryl b. This is probably the hardest question you've ever nailed me with my dear. You know that? Jeez.

Cheryl asked me:

Tell us about the animal that you have loved the most in your life. Not your favorite type of animal, but your favorite animal specifically.

I honestly thought long and hard on this question because that is like asking a mother to choose her favorite child. I love and have loved all of my animals for different reasons. Each one is really like a person; different in their own way with their own unique personalities. So, as I was thinking on your question, Cheryl, I realized I really can't pick just one. If you look at it like this, I have had about 50-60 kids in my life at least. (Yeah, I have a great capacity for love)

To help explain why such high numbers, Z and I were Persian cat breeders back home. We had a lot of kittens come and go. I am also extremely possessive of my 'things'. We stopped with the breeding part of it because, well frankly, I can't keep them ALL, you know? Even though I wanted to and we were always disagreeing on who to keep and who to sell. Not good. I have a soft heart and would cry when they left, Z on the other hand is not so soft hearted like I am.

All that being said. I will narrow it down to the most dear off the top of my head, hmmm? That would be Heidi and Princess. Dog and cat respectively.

I don't think I have ever adored and loved a dog like my mom's (ok, and mine, sorta, but really? Mama's) red short-haired mini-Dachshund , Heidi. She is a beautiful and elegant and extremely intelligent little lady, that Heidi-deidi. (Yea yeah, that's my nickname for her) Mama got her my senior year of High School as a puppy. Heidi is the first dog I actually lived with full time and Heidi and I were and are close.
Mom got another doxie a few years later, a boy, Otto, and while he is cute and sweet and all? I don't love him like I do Heidi. I love him, but, not like that.

Heidi and I are so close. When I was pregnant with Arianna Mom got really sick and was in and out of hospitals a lot. Heidi, if Mama wasn't around, refused to eat or drink. Twice a day I had to go over to Mama's while she was in the hospital and feed her and let her out to go potty or take her for a walk. Otto? He will eat ANYTIME. But not Heidi. I would go over and I could hear he whimpering from the sidewalk as I came up the driveway walking.

As my tummy got bigger as my pregnancy advanced, Heidi would come up on the sofa next to me and rest her chin on my stomach and just stare at me and make that special noise (like a sigh and whimper all rolled in one) that she only made for me and mama when she was happy. I would laugh because there poor Heidi was resting with me and Arianna would kick her so I would watch her head bounce up and down.

When Arianna was born Heidi became obsessed with her. She would go apeshit whenever I brought her over and do happy dances all over the place….. until Otto tried to prance over and say hello. Then she would beat his ass all over the living room then stand guard in front of Ari's carrier growling at him until he got the hint that "This baby is MINE!!! (ROWWRRRRR) Piss off pipsqueak and Don't come near her!". Otto, being the doofus he is, kept on trying.. and kept on getting his poor ass beaten by Heidi.

If Heidi wasn't around Ari and she cried for any reason, that dog would race hell for leather barking till she reached Ari and jump up and check her while waiting for us to jump like trained seals. She looked concerned about the crying, not irritated. Arianna had inherited her own little watchdog.

Heidi is still alive but almost completely grey now. And you know what? If I talk to her on the phone or she smells my scent on something I've sent my Mom? She still makes that "I love you" noise she makes for me.

The same school year we got Heidi, about 6 months earlier I was given a cat Mama named Princess. This was my first cat in about 8 years. I was given Princess by my then-but-not-for-long boyfriend, Bill. Bill got on my last damn nerve (and Mama's too, for the record) and the best thing about Bill was the cat he gave me.

He took me to pick her up from her mother and siblings. Princess was the ONLY black and white cat in a litter of 7 cats. Everyone else AND the mama were grey tabby cats.

I adored Princess and so did Mama, who had insisted for YEARS "NO PETS!" Mom named her, I tried names, but she answered to Princess and so she was named.
This cat and I were inseparable. What I loved about Princess? Was that she was a real talker. She was also frighteningly smart. She knew where her food was kept and every morning, we would find that she had swung the cabinet door open like "hint hint sukahs!" She would wait in my bedroom window for me to come home, meowing her soft meow maow through the glass, then be meowing for me waiting at the door the second my key hit the lock, walking alongside me all the way through the house with her steady stream of conversation.

Every night, we had routine, too. I would get in bed, and then it was cuddle time. She would come and lay between my arm and body and make 'paddycake' for at least a HALF AN HOUR and saying softly, in almost a whisper 'maow maooow" till we both conked out.

When I got married, mama couldn't bear to lose me and Princess in one go, (and Z didn't really like Princess anyway because she wasn't a pedigree cat), so mama kept Princess with her.

Princess never forgave me for that. I would go visit EVERY SINGLE DAY and when she saw me, she would literally turn her back on me and ignore me. She wouldn't let me hold her much either. She was never the same. Sometimes she would sneak up behind me on the sofa and sit, but never like we were before.

It broke my heart.

Perhaps what is the most endearing or ironic is that my Princess developed Ovarian Cysts… just like ME. Yeah, Princess was infertile too. Poor cat would go into a full heat (I mean calling and pedaling and backing up on anything she could, including YOUR ANKLE, a chair leg, ANYTHING-I don't do that tho, for the record!)once a month, every month until we diagnosed her, tried to get her pregnant with a male cat, but it didn't work, and we finally got her spayed.

Even stranger? Is that Heidi has developed Mama's same exact heart problem. (And it isn't very common, either). Every day Mama and Heidi take their heart medication.

Weird, huh?

This week Mare asked me a multi-level question all related to the same thing because, well, she missed out last week, she says:

What do you think about strip clubs? Have you ever been to one for either sex? What do you think about husbands/s.o.'s going, getting lap dances, etc. Would you go to a strip club with an s.o. where women were stripping?

I don't usually consider or thing about strip clubs, actually. I've never been to an actual strip club for either sex, per se. Although, as mentioned in last weeks Inquisition by Catrina, we were at a dance club where gay men would get up on a stage and dance, but it wasn't a real strip club and I was with Z, for whatever that was worth. I'd probably have fun at a Chippendale's type place though if I went with some girlfriends, although I wouldn't necessarily be one to suggest going. (I don't think I would be one of those shrieking types though! That's just not me.)

Don't think I'd be too comfortable going to a strip club with a s.o. where women were stripping or giving lap dances but I guess it's better than having him go by himself and wondering what the hell went on, isn't it? I'm not really one for sharing my 'toys' though, if that's any indication?

I mean, I'd much rather be giving my s.o. the lap dance myself! And yes, I would SO do that!!

Thank you all for reading through my sometimes rather long-winded answers to the quesitons some of you seek.

Until my next post, I bid you all adieu.

A Revelation

Oh yes indeedy. I understand it so clearly now.

I totally and completely get something that I didn't understand before.

See, during my Jerry Springer viewing, I've noticed that some of the audience members, the females, instead of asking a question, ask Jerry if they can go touch -rub-Steve's head.

Steve is a BIG Bald Security guy, for those of you that don't watch it.

Steve always lets them come up and rub his baldness. I just didn't get it.

Until tonight.

Tonight, my friends came over, the guys, one of which -A-was in Phuket when the Tsunami hit last month. It was the first time I had seen him since he returned. I was so happy to see him home safe and sound I gave him a HUGE squeezy hug and a bunch of kisses on his face. For the record, A is bald as an egg. Naturally. I think naturally bald might be different. Anyhow, this guy is one of Z's best friends since childhood and I'm super comfortable with him. He is the guy that ever since he met me almost 10 years ago has said fairly regularly "Divorce this asshole *motions to Z* and marry ME instead!" , always remembers my birthday and takes us out for it or anniversary dinners,or gives me Birthday cards or Christmas cards adressed to "My beautiful wife, love, your second husband-A". He's funny that way. (My Mom knows him too and loves him to bits!)

So, as the night progresses, and we are all sitting talking and whatnot... I'm sitting next to him and I look over at him and I say, "Hon, I've just GOT to do this!" and then I reach over and rubbed the top of his bald head.

For the record? Soft as a baby's butt. Has anyone ever stroked the bridge of a cat's nose? It's softer. Just like a baby's butt or cheek (face).

I did it twice more later on. I couldn't resist. He just chuckled.

Curious little thing, aren't I? To quote my favorite TV character EVER, Samantha Stevens (Bewitched)......

"WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Sweet and Satisfying

Some things make you think to yourself "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?"

You all know I love critters in general and my cats in particular. (Yes, this includes the cats in the yard that have decided I'm their adoptive Mama and stand on the stairs meowing for me) Normally, I wouldn't balk about this, but damn people!! I have had a damn migrane for DAYS now, so bad that I am constantly nauseated. (So bad in fact, that I was gagging/retching in my sleep this morning when Z sprayed on his cologne before heading out the door. Yes, he yet lives.... but it was a near thing.)

For the record, I would just like to point out that when you have a migrane and not feeling too hot in general, plus a sick child that you are carting back and forth to the doctor for injections, it would be a really good idea to somehow manage to disabuse your spouse of the notion that RIGHT NOW some of the cats have to get bathed. Not later.. but NOW. (Not that it worked for me or anything. I just thought it would be nice of me to try to help others.)

Why you may ask? Because, when MY husband gets it in his head to do so, that means that maybe he might wash them (with your assistance, naturally) that translates to ME DOING THE BLOWDRY in addition to helping out with the bath to ensure the cats survive it. (he is heavy handed and forgets that they are, OH, Pregnant.). And yes, they must be blowdried. Long hair not dried properly = tangles from hell + damn cold temps = sick cats= hi vet bills. No ffing thank you.

So yeah, we washed and blowdried a couple of cats last night. Thanksforasking.

Fortunately, I talked him out of all 5 in one shot and down to the two most pregnant instead. Angel was pretty bad off. Whew. Angel is all happy she is clean now, strutting around with her tail held high when not flopping in the middle of my persian carpets for an impromptu grooming session or nap. (A proud one she is. She loves baths! Weirdo.) and Scarlett? Well, she's all clean and fluffy too, but wasn't particulary thrilled with the whole experience. Well! I had a program on Henry VIII to watch so rushed him through it and that was my excuse for only two! Jeez. (btw, the program on Hallmark channel was EXCELLENT!5 stars+!)

Then, I couldn't take seeing Max and Sigfreid, my boys, kinda messed up in comparison, so today? I tackled them. Max? Looks like a TEDDY BEAR. He is roughly the size and WEIGHT of a Cocker Spaniel. It's muscle, not fat. Sigi was a nightmare as USUAL but he looks so cute and clean. Isis is left for a bath, but I am not insane NOR do I have a death wish. When I told Z today that I left Isis for him, he had one reply. "Oh. SHIT." Heh. Vengence is mine for the migrane torture yesterday. HA!

SO. I mentioned that Angel, aka Homeland Security, is very happy to be all clean and fluffy. She is also HUGELY PREGNANT. We are talking GINORMOUS HERE PEOPLE! Hell and she isn't due until around the 28th of this month by our calculation. Ie: gonna get bigger folks! And? She was stuck to Arianna like glue tonight. She knows when Ari doesn't feel well. Even last night. Ari left her blanket on the sofa and went to sleep in her room. Angel came and hopped up, sniffed the blanket, curled up next to it with her head on it and purred loud and hard till she passed out.

Anyway, Ari came to watch tv with us tonight and Angel followed and hopped up next to her on the sofa for a cuddle. Next thing I know, Angel is half sprawled across Ari's lap just staring at her! This is really something to see, when poor Angel is SO DAMN BIG that when she lays on her side, her tummy looks like a mountain of white fur and her big butterscotch eyes show that she is.... weary. Ari was initially petting her head which was cute. But then? I watched my daughter slowly, tentatively, and gently stroke down Angel's most likely sore-as-hell back and rest her hand on her distended tummy.

What was beautiful was the look of wonder and joy on my baby's face when she felt the kittens move against her palm. I know just how she felt. Even me, at 33, *shudder*when I feel the kittens move against my hand or watch her tummy bounce moves me. The look of awe on Arianna's face was something else. Poor Angel just layed there, half on Ari's lap staring at her upside down until something on TV caught her intrest (yes, the cat loves TV.), then back to Ari again.

I'm glad that I have taught Arianna a love of animals.Z likes some animals also, but only pedigree ones. Me? I just love critters, and thankfully, so does my baby. She has no fear of big dogs either (like her dad). She brazenly walked right up and started petting a HUGE English Mastiff at a house we were looking at last week. (Ok. Well, right after I started petting him. I guess she figured he didn't rip my arm off yet, so he was ok!) In fact, he followed us everywhere and ended up flopping on the floor on Ari's feet for a belly scratch.

She didn't like the house at all.... but asked if we could have the dog instead. Heh. That's my girl.

Quarantine

My house should be under quarantine, I think. What began as a nasty attack of allergies and sinus last week for Arianna and I, first went away, so we thought, and has come back in other ways with a vengeance.

I've just been fighting one of my famous migraines for days now-oh yaay- and I've got really severe nausea and, well, let's just say I'm waiting for things to run their course. Ugh. The worst part of it all, for me, is the pain in my head even when I sleep. And the pain in my stomach also. It is decidedly unpleasant. But that is nothing compared with my poor baby.

Poor Arianna has the nastiest hacking cough. I took her to her pediatrician this afternoon after she came home from school. She adores this man to pieces. He loves her to bits too. He was so very busy and was about to go home for the day but I called his cell when his nurses told me on the office phone that he was too busy to see her. Hah. Bullshit. So I called him directly and told him she wasn't feeling well and he told me to bring her right away. You would think those nurses would know me better by now, wouldn't you?

We went and waited… and waited… the waiting room was PACKED with parents and children.. lots of sick children. They took her temp… nothing. Good. The weighed her… she's gained weight. Her height? Has shot up in the last two months or so quite a bit. Finally Doc H got to see her.

The visit started off like it usually does and has since she was 4…. With them giving each other a big hug and him kissing her head. Then, up onto the table where he discovered that her little sinus and allergy problems have gone into very bad laryngitis and a chest infection.

This man is genius. He, in under 2 minutes, talked her in to getting 3 days antibiotic injections instead of taking it orally for a week, starting today. Bless him, he didn't tell her he was going to give her TWO injections today only, one antibiotic and one for the throat swelling which was causing the pain.

He doled out double the candy he does for other patients, because she is his pet, and gave her a massive balloon. More hugs and the like ensued as a goodbye. I wandered off to the pharmacy and then went to hunt down Priscilla to give her the injection. Perhaps you will remember Prissy from my earlier posts during my IVF tries? She gives a good injection, she does. Prissy and Sheila are the only ones Ari will let near her butt with a needle, and frankly? I don't blame her one bit.

Injections given and now it was time for my heart attack. We don't presently have medical insurance (sob, scream) which is really bad considering how much Ari and I use it here. The monthly payment for both of us to have private medical insurance with NO co-pay and full hospitalization costs covered if and when needed is only a tiny bit more than the bill for just today was. (This was my argument for keeping it when Z let it lapse 6 months ago without my knowledge at the time. Payment per month is only about 20 bucks more per month than one visit for ONE OF US including meds and NOT including any lab work or x-rays. So, insurance just kinda makes sense, ya know? ) Did he listen? Um, no. So therefore my coronary today would be caused by the BILL to be paid in Cash. Like, now. It was the equivalent of $240.00. On the bright side, if I keeled over, at least I was in a hospital, right? Heh.

Well, Arianna already her breathing sounds better due to that antihistamine injection she had and I'm just waiting for it to conk her out for a nice long sleep. Then?

Then Mama Cyn is going to grab a cat or two, go curl up in the fetal position on my wonderful snuggly bed in a pitch dark room while my head throbs and eventually explodes. Well either my head or my stomach will explode. It's anyone's guess which will go first.

Daddy Z can do observation duty on Ari while I whimper in the dark. I'm outta here for now.

PS: If y'all want to think up any questions now for this weeks Inquisition, be my guest!

An Observation or Two

While watching Catwoman with Z, he made a couple of comments. One in particular, several times.

During Sharon Stone's scenes, he kept saying "She looks so much like Mom" (my Mama, NOT HIS!) And really, she does, from the neck up. My Mama is a slightly older version of Sharon. Finally I looked at him, grinned, and said "Honestly honey, how many men can say their Mother-in-law looks like Sharon Stone?"

Z's reply? "I knowwwwwwww!" with a cheeky grin.

His other observation pertained to Ms. Berry's walk when in her Catwoman getup. Espscially in the final scenes of the film. Z said "Look! She's doing your walk!" Yeah. She was. That is my natural walk, that sashay thing she does in that black leather. I've had that walk since I was very small. It's genetic, that walk. My Dad has it too. It's a bit disconcerting on a man 6'3 but on a woman, it's nice.

I was wondering when Z would get around to noticing her doing my walk. Heh.

Guilty Pleasure

I think it's time I admitted to another guilty pleasure.

I'm a closet Jerry Springer fan.

Come to think of it, I've just announced it on the internet now, so I guess I'm not in the closet about my love of Jerry's show any more, now am I?

Before anyone says anything about it being staged or what not... I don't belive that it's all real, although I do belive that many of the situations DO exist in the world. I don't give a rats ass if it's staged or not. I like it for it's entertainment value. You know.... stuff like this:

Well, this lesbian was pissed at her girlfriend being a slacker and not working, then hanging out with this BULLDYKE named BUBBA while she is out slaving away working her tail off at work to support said girlfriend. BUBBA!!!!!! What a name. HAAAA as if THAT wasn't funny enough?So, she was pissed that Bubba is eating all her food when she's at work and whatnot.. particulary her potato chips... (this is SO REDNECK DYKES ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY!!Mind you I have nothin against lesbians whatsoever. But this? Is something else.) so... then it comes out the bubba is bangin the girlfriend while she is at work AND eating the food. The hard working lover is really pissed about Bubba eating her food. Almost more than she's upset about her doing other stuff. She kept on bitching about the food, then the sex and cheating in her own house, then back to the food-on and on about the damn food, and the chips, dammit; and then JERRY, BLESS HIM, says: "So? Are you more upset about the eating or the cheating?" then walks off and mutters under his breath" Although it's basically the same thing, now isn't it?"

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahaaaaaaahahahahahahhaahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!!!!!! Jerry!! Jerry!! Jerry!!!!

The audience comments are prime also. It's all for a chuckle. What makes me howl with laughter is when the women attack each other and yank the wigs off and then you see a wig go flying into the audience. Funny.

I mean, Jerry's program is a crack up, and I take a break from watching Discovery Civilizations, CNN,Discovery Channel, The History Channel, E! (for my celebrity gossip! Another guilty pleasure) etc..for a good laugh.

You all already know about my obsession with Survivor, so, add this to the pot.

Jerry is even MORE dear to me now. When I moved here from the States, Jerry wasn't shown here. I couldn't get my mitts on it until a few months ago. (Thank you SHOWTIME!) Now, every night, I can get my Jerry fix.

Oh, there was Rikki Lake, Maury, Montel, and I have Oprah. But no Jerry. Now I have JERRY!

What the hell. It's better than looking at monster's antics.

Y'all still love me a wee bit?

Inquisition Confession – Week 13

Sorry it's taken me a while to post my answers. I'm in a bit of shock today. All right, a lot of shock, actually.

Z lost his job today. They are closing the branch he works in and have decided to do away with that department overall. His last day is Feb 15. No, you are all NOT imagining, we are BOTH without work now.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

So they said "Bye bye" today. The fockers. I've a second interview somewhere tomorrow. Let's see what comes of it.

On to 'more important' matters that I can actually do something about, like, my BLOG and satisfying my darling readers curiosity!

Well I recieved quite tame questions for a change this week. Surprising and refreshing. Let me cut right to them, hmmm?

Cheryl b asked me:

What is your favorite book and why?

My goodness, I don't know how to choose a favorite book. I love to read so much.

But, you make me choose, so, probably Pride and Prejudice or Emma by Jane Austen.

I not only like her books, but I also like Jane's life story and the story behind them. She wrote her books and was published in a time when women did not write published books. It was a man's world. Ooooh, I sound all feminist, don't I?

I love period movies and books, so these really got me but good. She writes with humor, even if it is sometimes underlying and her characters are real (I bet just like some people you know) and could be people from today instead of 120+ years ago.

The author of Bridget Jones Diary, for instance, took inspiration from Austen's heroines, I heard her say in an interview.

By the way, I like Little Women also.

A more modern author I really adore is Diana Gabaldon. She writes historical fiction and, God bless her, publishes HUGE, I mean FAT-ASS books. She is a sucker for detail, and I love me some detail.

Mare asked me:

What is your favorite kitten story?

Much the same ones that you said, Mare. I've had up to 26 kittens of various ages at once, and I love watching them play together.

One would have to be Isis' littermate sister, Princess a Black and white. she was always naughty, and in the apartment we had at the time, right before we moved to Bahrain, we had corner windows. One corner of the living room was all windows, so the curtains were sortof an L-shape. Z and I were watching TV, it was Christmas time, because the tree was up and Isis had been attacking the tree and swiping a santa decoration I had hanging with a cotton beard and strutting around with it like a fresh kill, we would take it from her, and put it higher where she couldn't reach, and she was taking flying leaps at one point. After 8 times, I gave up and hid santa alltogether.

So anyway, from the corner of my eye, I see movement up high. I look up and see Princess has climbed the curtain and is running along the curtain rod from one wall to another and back again. She was about 6 weeks old at this point. Then she did a kamikaze dive bomb off the rail when she realized she was caught.... right onto me.

Catrina, my pal asked me:

Did you get as sick here in the states as you do over there? If not, I think you should move back for health reasons.

Isn't my friend adorable y'all? She wants me back home. I feel all loved, missed and wanted now. SMOOCHY CATRINA.

Well Cat, no, I didn't get as sick back home as I do here. Not by a long shot. (or close shot for that matter) Back home I used to maybe catch the flu once or twice a year, and that was it. I did develop allergies during my pregnancy with Arianna that have stuck with me ever since, but other than that, nope.

When certain members of Z's family remark that I'm always sick, ("must be the cats") and I get pissed off I say, (In my head) "Give me a fucking break, and kiss my ass while you're at it" and out loud: "Well, I've had animals, cats in particular, my whole life, it's not that. Coincidentally, I am the sickest I've ever been since I moved here, so perhaps I'm allergic to Bahrain?"

And a question from Carrie Jo that arrived a tad bit late last week and one for this week too, cause, well, because I want to answer both, so there!

Last weeks: Who were your famous people crushes in middle/high school?

Aha…. Good one. Let's see now. I had massive, I mean MASSIVE crushes on Elvis, John Travolta and Rock Hudson since I was about 8 or 9.

As I got older, ok, well, a little bit older, when I hit about 11 is when I discovered Duran Duran.. and more importantly Simon Le Bon and John Taylor from Duran. Simon is and was No 1 and John, No 2 in my book. Still are for that matter.

I was so bad, (still am actually) in fact, that if you simply say "Duran Duran" or "Simon" in front of my Mom, she will cringe. In fact, I am still amazed at myself that when I met Simon those COUPLE OF TIMES, that I managed to be all cool and collected. I always have been with celebrities, but jeez! Simon? That was some serious lust I was carrying around for years! I also managed to not jump his bod. It was a near thing. Then? I met his younger brother, Jonathan. Who is just as hot as Simon, TALLER, and hee, sings just as good, if not better.. He is a real charmer. Rowrrrrrrr.

I also liked Adam Ant. Poor guy. He's lost his mind I hear. Shame,that. He was awfully sexy. I guess I'm a sucker for tight leather pants.

I'm a very loyal person and once I give my love and/or loyalty, you really have to screw me over big time to lose it. They've been good boys all and therefore still have my undying love.

Well, except for Elvis who went and died on me. I still watch Elvis movies though. It drives Z nuts. Turns out Rock was gay, and then he went and died on me too. At least Mr. Travolta is still around and adorable.

I seem to recall a bit of a crush on John Stamos also. He is still gorgeous.

This weeks' question: What makes you so freaked out by these sweet little creatures (and reptiles too, for that matter)?

Lizards. Well, when I was little in Florida, some jumped on me and freaked me the hell out, I was all traumatized. They are the kind that look like mini-alligators, what we had in South Florida. Tiny little bastards.

I've NEVER liked snakes. Ever. But for some freaky reason, snakes love me. This is not a good thing in my book. See, I always wanted to have a pet mongoose. THAT is how much I don't like them.

In school, even in High School, teachers would bring live snakes in to class for Life Science and walk around with them on their arms. The snakes were singularly uninterested in my classmates, but each and every time they got within sniffing distance of me, it was time to stretch off teacher's arm and say hello to Cyn! Every. Single. Time. Maybe because I am very warm blooded? I don't know. I backed away from them so fast it was hilarious.

That and there was a poisonous snake coming through the tall grass in our backyard towards Mama and I as she was hanging laundry that we didn't see when I was about, 4 or so. All of a sudden, I see my cat, Tiger-shin came flying through the air and going apeshit and doing flips and pounces about 2 ft or so from us. Tiger-shin killed it and dragged its lifeless body to us to show off, then drug it off behind the shed. Dad was all happy with Tiger that day when he got home and saw the snake. Tiger-shin was a very spoiled and loved cat from that day on, even more than before.

Growing up in a house that had a canal waaaaaaay back on the property with a thick 20 ft high chain link fence separating it from us, I was taught a healthy fear and understanding of alligators and crocodiles.

If it redeems me in your eyes, I have discovered a love of turtles. A friend of mine had a particularly flirtatious one in her house that liked me and always tried to get out of his bowl to me. I liked him a lot. I touched him even. So there! Oh wait. That's an amphibian, isn't it? Well, damn.

Well, to quote Porky Pig..... dib bdiiib dib bdiiiiib bdibbb bdiiiiiibbbbbb, that's all folks!

Say WHAAAAAAAT?

I just read something on the internet. Again. Where I usually go, on CNN.com, bless their informative hearts. About rats being bilingual.

What the hell?

Rats? Bilingual? There are HUMANS that can't manage to be bilingual, but rats are? That.is.just. wrong.

But beyond my shock at this amazing find is the thought that rolled through my head next….

What genius decided to SEE IF RATS COULD BE BILINGUAL? Well, His name is Juan, for starters. Imagine the lab conversation between two scientists, hmmm? Juan says: "Hey Jorge! I've been thinking…. I wonder if Mickey, this little rat here, or Speedy, the other one, could possibly be bilingual. I've got 62 other male rats we could play with right over here! Why don't we actually DO A STUDY? Wouldn't that be so damn cool?"

Jorge replies: "Yes Juan, just as soon as I take another hit of CRACK, lets do a study to see if they communicate in different languages. I mean, who needs to find a cure for AIDS or Cancer anyway? Let's check out the rats communication skills! YEEAH!"

Juan: "How about we try, oh say, Dutch and Japanese?"
Jorge: "Muy Bien AMIGO!"

And they went on to do scientific studies of the male rats. (Why no females, fellas?) Look at what they did:


The rats were trained to respond to either Dutch or Japanese using food as a reward

Well, DUH! HELLO???????????? These were ADULT MALE RATS. OF course you could get them to respond for food as a reward. It probably would have worked just as well if you had also showed them rat porn or PLAYRAT as a reward. Give me a break.

Next they will probably check the females and reward them with, oh I don't know, shoes? Pretty jewelry? Very expensive handbags? (Hee heee)

Isn't it nice to know that rats are ranked right up there with humans and monkeys?

Actually, it's kind of depressing.


I suppose next they will say Lizards are bilingual too. Ugh.

Nag, Nag, NAG!

Happy Monday to you all! Yeah, I know, 'Happy Monday my ass!' many of you are probably thinking, since it's your first workday of the week. Still, be glad you HAVE a job, hmmm?

Don't worry, I'm sure I will come up with some zinger posts about work once, if ever, I am gainfully employed again. This unemployed stuff is driving me up a damn wall, is what.

Patience. Or as I heard recently... "Luck is when you have planned in advance for an opportunity that presents itself to you.", or something to that effect. Uh-huh. Since I'm an almost OCD-level planner type person, that little bit of wisdom really struck a chord with me.

For example, I plan to eventually fancy up my blog. You know, go all out and hire some fantastic designers like MOXIE to do something for me and get my own domain name because I absolutely adore their work. I have planned so much that I have detailed ideas about column titles and sections and design ideas written out by hand.

See what I mean? OCD level planner. So. On that note, it is time for a wee bit of nagging.....

because you have until the sun rises on the Pacific Coast tomorrow (that would be Tuesday for the inebriated, heavily medicated, or hung over) to get your darling question in to me.

ME! ME! ME! ME!!!!!!!!!!

I'm nagging at you why? Because I did a vewy baaaad thing. (Elmer Fudd voice) It seems that I missed celebrating De-lurking day! For shame. Frankly? I DO give a damn. So it's Happy Belated De-lurking day here at Scarlett's Haven. Knock yourselves out.

So. A question. Pretty much anything you can come up with. (oooh. I'm kinda skeered.*shudder, twitch*) It can be simple or complex. Innocent or, well, dirty. I mean, jeez, I got asked for a p*nis story last week! Heh. Y'all are funny.

Bring it on! I can take it. I think.


PS: I'm feeling better today, although? The throat is getting to me every now and then and sometimes I am sounding like Demi Moore with a sore throat and I'm still a wee bit congested, but otherwise, fine. *knocks on wood*

PPS: PSA: If you have not seen "Without A Paddle" , please go rent it and prepare to laugh your tail off. If you like comedies, that is. Its. Hilarious. (I couldn't stop saying SCOTTY DOOOO! through the whole movie though.)

The Midwife

I was thinking today about my three pregnant cats.

Yeah. All three are in various stages of pregnancy. It appears that Max has been a very busy guy lately, doesn't it? Between impregnating the females and getting into increasingly more violent Alpha Male fights with his full grown son (Bad move Max. YOU have no front claws, Sigfried? Does. As Max unfortunately found out quite badly last night with a huge gushing blood gash under his chin last night.), I’m surprised he even has energy to groom himself as well and often as he does. Well, I imagine it is easier to groom his HUGE BUTT since his son has snatched him half bald, but still! Sadly, I will have to find a good home for Sigi, cause it is just getting TOO violent. Everyday is becoming a bloodbath here.

I'm thinking, by the looks of Angel, aka: Homeland Security, she looks like she easily has 5 in there and looks like she has maybe 2 more weeks or so to go. Well, hell. Scarlett? (The cat, not me! Don't I wish?), she should be due in 5 weeks or so. She's tiny like her MIA mom yesterday Isis. So, maybe she will only have two like her mom.

Either way, that is one huge load of kittens. (Good thing I love the little critters, isn't it?) A good friend of mine calls me "Ellie May"(Beverly Hillbillies, remember?) for a lark.

That means I had better get my stuff ready, since I usually deliver them. See, I’m a cat midwife of sorts.

Persian cats are usually quite lazy when it comes to birthing their young. They can get them out just fine, but sometimes, the whole cleaning the sac off the babies faces or cutting the cord kind of slips their mind, so that’s where I come in. If that sac isn't cleaned off quickly after birth, they suffocate.

I clean em up if mama isn’t doing it and cut the cord and everything, then put them near her tummy to get a bite to eat.

My cats are so very close to me, they usually wait until I am around. Rarely have I had a cat deliver a litter when I was not at home. In fact, Isis's mother, Cozette, did not like her delivery bed I made all special for her, was in early labor, and prowling my room while I was in bed, reading late at night. I had no idea she was in labor until she hopped on the bed and laid on my lap. I felt shaking on my legs and I thought she was purring awfully hard. I look over my book and notice that she has gotten a kitten half delivered ON ME. )Oh wonderful. Needless to say, I stuck her butt in that birthing bed anyway, and by then, she didn't give a damn as long as I was stroking her head while she was delivering them, one by one.

I love that they are so close to me that they even let me pick the babies up and handle them. I've had cats that come get me and try to get me to follow them, and when I do, they take me to their babies, look at me, lick their 'lips' , look back at the babies, and then go eat and go do their bathroom business while I 'babysit'. If I try and leave the kids, we go through the whole thing all over again, but usually with much meowing on mama cat's part, cause I have pissed her off, apparently.

Once, Velvet, my first female Persian cat, was pregnant same time as her daughters. (Much like now) they delivered the same week. What freaked me out is that she would go to her daughter's boxes, jump in one so her daughter could go eat and go potty, and curl up with her grandkids while her own new kittens slept. Sometimes she would even suckle them. It freaked me the hell out each time she did it. She was the sweetest, daintiest little thing…. With the deep meow of a tomcat. Heh.

I'm curious what kind of kittens I will get this time. Sometimes, it's like a rainbow. But since they all went and got knocked up at virtually the same time, I decided to have a little talk with them and make 'requests' of each based on the possibility of what they can have. It's only fair. Tell you what! I will probably need help finding names, so as they are born, I will describe each litter for you and you all can help me find some fab names, okay? (Seven Dwarfs names not applicable ok wise guys?)

I mean Isis actually listened to me last time *wink* and I got Miss Scarlett, my Tabby Calico. (I'm not being vain. Arianna named her that!) What the hell, it won't hurt.

I hope to God that I get a job soon, because I am going to have a lot of mouths to feed in the very near future!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From Bad to…..

Worse, I think. Well, in some ways.

A medical update. I. Still feel kind of crappy, but in completely different ways. Great, huh?

Fever.. I think under control. Achy-ness, gone pretty much. Congestion/Sneezing/allergies/blocked ear/general Sinus infection crap? Still here, but less somewhat. But as of this morning? I think I am on the road to being truly screwed up.

See, my ENT told me on Wednesday that my sinuses were infected (which explains the hellish pressure and pain in my ears nicely, doesn't it?) and he gave me a shitload of antibiotics to help combat it from going to my throat and vocal cords and voice box.

I think the infection has hit both places overnight last night because when I woke up? My throat was swollen and extremely painful. Other than that, a good way for me to tell on my own is to try and sing. If I have pain when I sing, I know the infection has reached that area, because it lessens my range considerably. * La la la la la la laaaaaaa*(Well, that and I sound like a singing frog, but anyway..) I also feel like I am choking and suffocating on the phlegm that I can't seem to bring all out, painful as it is. It is a bit scary.

At least some of it is clearing up while other things are acting up. Whee. I found a bright side.

I think I'll blame Isis on the throat thing since I was out looking for her furry ass till 4 am last night in the cold because she went AWOL when monster 'accidentally' left the front door open, so Isis decided to take off because she is sneaky that way, the little hussy. Usually she comes when I call her but last night? Nothing. I was really worried about her. So Isis, that bitch, decided to go gallivant out around Lord knows where on the COLDEST NIGHT IN BAHRAIN, dammit. Plus wind chill. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr. Then late this afternoon, I left the kitchen door open for a bit in case she got hungry and wanted to come home, and all of a sudden, she strolls on in. I SO told her little self off…….as I was hugging and kissing her head and telling her not to make me worry. She was looking at me, and then, gently pressed her little paw to my cheek twice almost like an apology.

So then this morning? Throat. Yeah, Isis. It's all your fault, cat.


A little reminder, or my weekly nag as some of you might call it. But. Well, I just want to remind you about, well, you know, any little question you might want to ask of me for The Inquisition get it in before the sun rises on the West Coast of the U.S. on Tuesday. I will get Cheryl B's late question in this weeks answers. But if she wants to give me another, be my guest.

Oscar-Worthy Moments

It has happened again. Yet another circumstance where I thought to myself: I should blog this. I have to blog THIS!!!

As my regular readers are aware, there is usually some serious drama in my house courtesey of my MIL, Monster. (By the way, that whole "Monster In Law" name? I thought of it. I should sue whomever made that film, dammit!) I'm just the cNN news service that reports it. Think of me as your occasional online news and drama reporter,hmmm?

Now where was I? Oh yes. Oscar-worthy moments.

You see, it would seem that, well, apparently,she is telling everyone that will listen that I'm trying to kill her crazy ass.

What a load of crap. She is not worth the price of my immortal soul, belive you me! Let me start from the beginning.

The other night I was at Az's (the triplets) house with Z visiting and chatting when his mobile rings. Az and Daddy J immediately say "Grandma" since she usually has complete hissyfits when we go ANYWHERE and calls with something or another shreiking and going basically bonkers till Z toddles on home like a good boy. Ugh. Anyway, they were close and half of a cigar. It's Arianna who is at home with Monster and Ari tells him "Grandma fell down in the hall, Siony picked her up from the floor.". So he says " Is anything broken? No. Ok. Good. She's back in her room? Ok, I'm coming". then jumps up saying "My mom fell down" and runs down the street to our house leaving the rest of us staring at each other.

Forgive me (and Az and Daddy J for that matter) for being highly skeptical here, okay?This is an almost nightly thing. She has called with such other Oscar Moments as "I'm seeing black... I'm dyiiiiiiiingggggg..... waaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh*click*" etc... (Go on get creative. I'm sure you can all imagine the possibilities. Then again, perhaps not!)

So, left alone together, we are all staring at each other wondering, just what the hell she is up to this time when Az, monsters firstborn grandchild of 14, says looking at me and full of mirth:
" I've fallen,AND I CAN'T GET UPPPPPPPPPPPP" which makes all three of us burst out in laughter.

I just know you are all on edge waiting with baited breath to know if she is ok. So. Yeah. She's ok. Nothing wrong with her. (other than mentally, as usual)

So. Guess how she fell down! Guess where and on WHAT she tripped?

Go on.... guess....

Here, in the hallway where I sit and type to y'all emails and blog posts and do my blog surfing.

She tripped on the inet line that stretches across the hallway into my bedroom on the tile floor. The very same wire that has been here for ONE AND A HALF YEARS that no one else has managed to trip on (and this is with 6 preteen girls playing tag in my house, too!). It is tight to the floor and not something that can be 'tripped on' easily.

Funny thing is... if she tripped on the wire, which runs between and under my computer table and sofa(there is a 3 seater sofa here right next to my computer table and my hallway is not THAT wide-maybe 5ft 3in wide or so) so if she tripped on my end of the sofa, how, may I ask, did she end up on her ass at the far end of the hall at the other end of the sofa AND on the tile instead of tossing her ass on the big comfy sofa right next to her? This is a move worthy of a baseball player sliding in to Home if she's telling the truth, distance wise.

I don't. think. so.

So, basically she is sore and moaning a bit (Az went to go observe and return with a report) but nothing broken or swollen. Just a red mark on her upper arm. So, since her son stayed at home instead of coming back to us, she was generally happy. ie: she got her way.

The best thing is Monster's Oscar performance. Grabbing her hand and arm and limping around.... When Z is around. much moaning and groaning... limping and the like...
when he's not around? she is wandering around FINE.

Anyhow,next morning I wake up and as I exit my bedroom, I notice that MIL has taken my scotch tape and taped the wire to the tile...a really crap job.... putting long lengths of tape every 1/2 or 1/4 inch along the wire. ACROSS THE WIRE, not lengthwise even. HOW CREATIVE. (I should be happy that she didn't find my stash of duct tape, huh?That would look like absolute shit on my eggshell colored tile, now wouldn't it?)

SO, as I'm staring in disbelief at this bang up tape job, Angel the cat comes traipsing by. Yes, if you saw her walk, you would agree that 'traipsing' is the appropriate term, and now she is pregnant, so it's even MORE pronounced.

Angel is pure white, very big, and has big beautiful butterscotch gold eyes and is one of the most intelligent cats I have ever seen. She is the cat I have nicknamed "Homeland Security" because if there is anything or anyone different in the house, she will inspect it in her rounds before she settles down. She is also highly protective of Arianna, much like a guard dog and shadows her incessantly.

Therefore on her rounds, she walks over said wire and past it. Then screeches to a dead halt with her ears cocked, looks back at the floor, turns around and goes STRAIGHT TO THE WIRE AND TAPE. She begins sniffing madly much like a coke addict trying to get a hit and stares at it like "what the HELL?????" looks at me whereupon I tell her "hell if I know!", back down again and then starts..............

TRYING TO RIP UP THE TAPE frantically. I SHIT YOU NOT!!!! (I also believe I told you she is a very intelligent animal, no?)

I collapsed ont the sofa laughing my butt off. (see? It's not that hard to aim for the sofa. I mean, it IS right next to you, not even 6 inches from your body!) I said in between gasping breaths watching Angel's continued efforts to rip the tape up "Even the cat knows that is fucked up and WRONG!WAAAAAAAhhhhhhaaaahahahahahahahahaha".

So, ever since that day, I have watched Monster literally run around the house and lift things and walk perfectly fine (all the while cursing me under her breath, or very loudly) but the nanosecond her son walks in the door? 'Ooyyyyyyyy!!!!! My ARM! MY LEG!!!! Owwwwwww!" with much limping and grabing of arm to hold it close to her body and wincing and whining. I watch this all with utter amazement. Not only I watch this, but Arianna watches it, but the live in Aupair -Siony-we have watches as well. (She is a wonderful lady we have to be here when I'm at work (Yeah, peanut gallery, WHEN I have a job!) or if we want to go out at nights or whatever so Monster is free to go and do what she wants when she wants since she doesn't like watching her grandaughter. The poor lady also helps out watching over Monster and gives her massages for her arthritis and cleans her room for her). So,we all watch this drama unfold in front of our eyes daily with gaping mouths and much shaking of heads. Siony saying quietly to me: "How she is around Z is completely different when he isn't here! I tell you! Neither Arianna nor myself saw her actually fall. And why she didn't land on the sofa? She just started moaning and telling Arianna to call her father."

Z home= Much acting and near death experiences
Z not home= not a damn thing wrong. Even dancing and singing (along with curses)

Siony is very bright and so funny. She also made an interesting observation. She said to me "It's funny, isn't it? She has many children and grandchildren, and they know she 'fell' and even before that, but NONE of them come by or call to see how she is. Even the grandaughter two doors down doesn't come. Only one daughter, N, will call every now and then. Hmmm. Odd." Yeah Siony, no kidding hon. Yeah, funny that.

Now? It has come to my attention that she has told pretty much everyone-yes, that includes Siony,the triplets nannies-all 3 of em!- the neighbors, their housemaids and cooks and gardners, her children- that it was deliberate on my part and that I'm trying to kill her. All this shit for some attention and sympathy that is NOT forthcoming? Sick.

(for the record, no, my spouse does nothing to dispell this rumor and says nothing to her of her incessant slandering of my reputation. He laughs. I even heard him tell one of his friends on the phone that said to him "so, I heard your wife shoved your mom on the floor" and he said 'heh. yeah probably". to which I became higly offended and appalled and said to him as he hung up "How can you let ANYONE joke about me that way? I was not even in the same freaking house when it happened!!!! I was WITH YOU!Why couldn't you just say that?" He just laughed and said "so what, let people think what they want." So, for the record and here on the internet for anyone to see, I say this: NO. I am not trying to off this crazy old bat. ok? I'll let her croak on her own and answer to God, or try to, and I think we all know where this evil thing will end up in the end anyway.)

Oh for Christssake! If I was going to do it:
a) I would have done it ages ago and
b) I would do it RIGHT.

Give me a little credit here, jeez!

So, without further ado, drumroll please!



And the Oscar for Best Actress goes to....................................................................................... MONSTER... for "I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up!"

Inquisition Confession – Week 12

Hi everyone! I'm here with Miss Scarlett, my cat, keeping me company laying sprawled out on my computer and I'm STILL high on Dimetapp and now running a fever and my poor bod is achy. Ick.

I know for a fact I have a few male readers, but for the life of me, I have no idea why they won't come out to play with us ladies! Oh well. I'm ready to answer your questions darlings while I still can.

I had just swigged my Dimetapp fix before I read this from Cheryl B. She cracks me up! I absolutely adore her Castle (p*rn shop) stories! I just HAD to share!

My question will follow, but first, to cheer you up....When I worked at Castle there was this guy who worked at 24 hour fitness and he had to put little boxes in all the local businesses for monthly drawings for free trial memberships. So he came in about once a week to collect them. He was very nice and we talked a lot (I thought he was gay!), and he had a big crush on me. I found out that he stripped in his spare time for extra money (like at bachelorette parties). Did I mention that he was wicked hot! So he comes in one day and wants me to help him pick out something new to ware to his stripping gigs. I gave him a black leather thong and a pair of chaps. He asked me to wait by the dressing room to make sure it looked good, I was more then happy to oblige. When he was done he opened the door and WAS ONLY WEARING THE CHAPS! I'm telling you, no matter how many pictures and recreations of cocks you see there nothing so shocking as the unexpected sight of one waggling at you.

Question time.....What is your funniest penis story?

My funniest penis story involves a rock star. Is that cheesy? Well, the fact remains that this has to be best penis story I can come up with.

It was the summer of 1996. My then friend (I thought) Kathy was seeing a guitarist who, at the time, was a member of Duran Dur*n and touring with them, but had previously been a member of Missing Per*ons, named Warren.

Before I go any further, I would like to say that with the exception of this one incident, he was always kind, considerate and such a sweetheart to me when I was around. So he slipped up once. Maybe he was testing me, I don't know and don't care really, cause he is such a darling.

Anyway, we, Kathy, Rebecca and I were up in his hotel room visiting him and watching a movie. He was on tour and honestly, wanted some friendly faces around and some chit chat. I thought it was nice of him to include Rebecca and I when he could have dumped our asses just to be with Kathy, you know? (Mind you, Kathy was the one trying to dump us!)

Anyway, Kathy got it into her head to take a shower and left the three of us sitting around talking and what not. I was sitting closest to Warren, literally not even a foot away, in a chair, Rebecca to my left and Warren sitting on the bed.

Becca was preoccupied with channel surfing and Warren and I were talking about God knows what when I noticed he had a naughty grin on his face and was looking into my eyes. I still don't know why I glanced down, but I did and….

I almost fell out of my seat. He was fondling himself right in front of me! He had whipped out the BIGGEST PENIS I've ever seen in person or on film (even till now). I kid you not! (If you ask me all pretty like, I will tell you how big he is. Well enquiring minds?)

I guess my eyes must have bugged out and I'm damn sure I blushed and looked over at Becca (who NATURALLY happened to look over right at that moment) and then, naturally back down to his lap and back up to his grinning face as I said "Warrennn!!" and he immediately apologized to me and put himself away. He mumbled something about keeping his hands limber and occupied when not playing guitar and asked me with a big wink "Sorry hon. Forgive me?" and I did.

He never did it again and thankfully Kathy never found out. Becca and I both swore not to tell her so as not to hurt her feelings. She would have had a hissyfit and a half too.

I have to say, thinking back on it, I'm still extremely impressed with Warrens endowments. According to Kathy, he knew how to use it too!

Ahem!

Now we get to Carrie Jo's tamer question:

How much of a bitch does one have to be to get their money back from a company that took it when they weren't supposed to? And a bonus question of: I wonder if you put some vodka in the Dimetapp if it would have the same effect as Nyquil?

Well Carrie since I don’t know details I'll speak in general terms, all right? At first, hold back the bitch. Save the bitch for a later stage if being nice doesn't work or if staff you are dealing with get shitty with you and you need to go to management. I would file, politely, an official complaint with the management in person and also in writing (proof). Then, do follow up's if they didn't refund the money right then. Take notes of who you spoke to, and when (day, time,etc.) and any promises made if any. If after, say, a couple of days you hear nothing after your follow ups, then ask for a manager higher up , name names after explaining the problem. At this point, get bitchy if you have to.

Threaten to sue (God, but I love America! "I'll sue your ass!"), if it was taken from a credit card, before you do anything, REPORT THE MISSCHARGE. Then, take steps to have it reversed and tell the management. Tell them you will file a complaint with the Business Bureau, etc… That should get some asses in gear. Just don't cuss. If you cuss, you put them immediately on the defensive. But get loud if necessary, show you are upset, as is your right. Fight them with logic. "Calm down? Tell me, if you were in my place, after trying to take care of this mistake and dealing with Mr. XYZ, would you BE CALM? I don't think so!"

If this doesn't work? Give me details…. And I'll give you detailed responses. Asshats. I hate when this happens.

Carrie Jo asked me the vodka and Dimetapp question cause I told her Ny Quill isn't sold here because it has alcohol in it so therefore cannot be sold over the counter in drugstores. A pity that. Honestly. (and I am a walking/blogging NyQuill commercial here people!)

Frankly darling, I haven't the foggiest idea. Anyone out there know? Man but I miss NyQuill.

Here comes my long time friend Catrina with this entry. I am posting most of the whole freaking entry for two reasons. 1) Because some of you may NOT have seen her comment on the previous post and 2) because some of you DID see it, and, well, Cat, bless her (reeeeoooowwww pfffft!) probably got you all itching to ask me more questions as a result. I aim to please.

Anyhoo, Cat asked:

Hey Cyn, remember when I was pregnant (and no one knew) and we went to that gay bar with the male dancer and I put cash in his g-string? AAAAHHH.....the good 'ol days. And then that lezbiana asked if I would put money in her panties? Sorry this comment is so gross. Hope it made you smile.

Question: What colors are your walls, or what color do you want to paint them...or are you a wall paper girl?

First things first. Yes Catrina, you not only made me smile, but you made me laugh my ass off! (how can I be congested AND have a runny nose? I don't get it)

In the omitted part, she recounted some of her penis stories. I just have to mention that my Mom's friend, who is also a nurse, told her this funny story of a big guy that came into the ER back in the 70's.

They rolled the guy in on the gurney and then the nursing staff had to cut his pants off to get at the injury.

Now please remember, this is back in the late 70's when all the dudes wore tight polyester pants so you could see their package. Well, it would appear that this particular guy looked SUPER endowed. Then once the pants were cut off, everyone started sniggering to themselves. This guy had strapped a big sausage to his leg so it looked like he was big! Isn't that funny?hahahahahaaaaaaa.

Yes Cat, I DO indeed remember our trip to the gay club that had male dancers on a stage in g-strings.

Talk about a can of worms. Readers, Cat and I went to the gay club with my BIL, whos gay and Z was with me-us- as well. A bunch of friends went together. What can I say? It had the best music. The DJ was amazing! A very non-threatening atmosphere if you just want to dance and have a good time, really and not worry about getting hit on. Usually. Cause, well, a different lesbian grabbed my ass that night. Cat and I must have been on a roll or something! Heh. On to Cat's real question for the day…..

What colors are your walls, or what color do you want to paint them...or are you a wall paper girl?

I paint them actually. Never been much of a wallpaper girl. (Runners are nice though) Can't really have wallpaper here with all the humidity that we have most of the year. I also am really super anal about wallpaper and I hate to see improperly installed wallpaper, and also how it tends to peel and bubble later on. I much prefer paint.

Lets see. Most of my walls are painted Magnolia. It is not white and not cream. More of a beautiful off white. It is not stark like pure white and I find cream to look dirty, really and it darkens the house also. Magnolia is very welcoming and goes with pretty much all color schemes.

I said most of my walls. In my living room, which is a rectangle. I have two walls in an L-shape with two window apiece. On those windows I have beautiful turquoise drapes hanging. On the walls with windows, I have Magnolia, a nice neutral color. On the walls opposite, they are painted a very pale salmon color. I mean PALE and sheer. (trick for this later) In this room is a huge custom made sofa set of a 4 seater (but we've had 5 on it comfortably) and 2 jumbo loveseats in cream brocade with throw pillows the same color as the curtains. Opposite is a single seater in a deeper shade of turquoise set against one of the salmon walls. I've been told the room effect is soothing and welcoming at the same time.

The entrance hall and hallway are Magnolia. Ari's room has pale yellow walls which pick up the color in her matching drapes and bed clothes. The bed clothes and drapes are this vibrant Crayola blue-green (yes, like the crayon) with big flowers in Fuchsia ,Lavender and Bright yellow on it. (fuchsia jersey sheets!) The yellow walls balance it out tremendously. My room? Pale, very sheer lavender walls. The drapes and comforter at present are called African Violet, but I don't think that is perhaps the best description of the color. It is a beautiful medium violet color. but I have a few different comforters/ duvet covers that I alternate that all go well with this. Don't forget my new jersey sheets that I adore!!!! Popcorn yellow. Ahhhhh. There is a cream loveseat in my room too and the furniture is white, so the room is bright and airy.

Now, my painting tip. Most people I know (back home) slap paint straight on the walls from the can. Um, no.I know I used to. But here, I learned something easy that is really nice.

This works well on matte or semi-matte finishes for INTERIOR water based painting. Add water to the paint and mix well.

Yes, I'm serious. Not a lot of water, mind you, but a bit, a little at a time. By a bit, I mean a maximum of a couple of cups. It will give you a lovely finish to the paint and enable you to get a lovely sheer color on your walls. Also? Dries in about half the time!

Another hint when buying paint. (I miss Home Depot too!) When looking at paint swatches (you know the strips with about 5 colors on 'em from light to dark.) if say you like the second color down on the swatch? Tell the paint guy to give you No 1. Why? Cause the paint in the can is always…. ALWAYS a couple of shades darker or brighter than the swatch you're in love with. (ie, option 3 or 4) If you like Color 1, the top color on the swatch, then tell paint guy to adjust the mix ratio in the paint drum. (you know, the enter a number in the computer, put it in, and the computer drops color into white paint and shakes the hell out of it) They CAN and will adjust it. Alternately… buy some pure white paint to lighten it with if it's truly hideous when you get home.

On that note, I want to run an idea by you all…

I've been toying with the idea of an 'attached" blog of Scarlett's Haven for advice. An offshoot if you will where I give advice. I'm curious what you all think about it.

It could cover a wide range of subjects even something like, well, painting. But with a disclaimer of course, since I don't want any Jenny Jones episodes due to my advice and I think I'm a lot NICER than Dr. Laura (who I DO listen to, btw). It's just that I find myself asked for advice often about all sorts of things from tricks for bringing up baby, to romantic things, (It's a joke that I'm like Dr. Ruth) or, well, anything. When to be a bitch and when NOT to be. Etc…. like so.

Drop me a comment below or email (Scarlett.Cyn@gmail.com) and let me know what you think or any ideas you might have.

Until my next post, adios my darlings!

Elixir of the Gods

Look I think that used to be what they called wine or sommat back in the day, you know, during the Roman Empire or some such.

But today?(tonight) my Elixir appears to be Dimetapp... and in copious amounts.

I am rapidly feeling like absolute shit, my friends, burning runny nose, itchy watery eyes, sneezing like HELL, runny nose (did I mention that? well, it's bad) burning tight throat.... and... feeling a bit achy and warm.

I broke down and opened the new box of Dimetapp Elixir. I haven't taken this in ages. So. I like a good responsible person, read the doseage instructions... and then stare at them like I'm seeing things for a good 3 minutes. Check it out.

Adults and children 12 years and over: 4tsp every 4 hours

4 tsp? Every 4 hrs? Aw HELL YA! But with a 4oz bottle, how long will this actually last me? another thing. I just read the fine print.....

*do not take more than 4 does in a 24 hour period.

Is my math wrong, or did they just fuck with their own instructions? cause, to me, every 4 hrs = 6 doses a day ie: a helluva lot of Dimetapp. Right?

Whatever, I'm just waiting to feel better.

Think on the possibilites of the crazy ass answers you could get from me while I'm high on this stuff and writing my Confession!

If that doesn't tempt you, I don't know what will.

Ta for now darlings... I'm waiting to feel loopy!Cheers! *chugs*

Hrumph.

Hiya! Wanted to remind anyone that wants to play, cut off is tomorrow for the Inquisiton questions. I have to say, I'm awfully curious as to what y'all will come up with for this first Inquisition of 2005.

Ari was sick and vomiting over the phone in my ear yesterday. This is NOT what a mother wants to hear over the phone when she is out of the house for 40 minutes. Jeez. Then she slept for about 14 hours and didn't go to school today and is fine now. WTF?

Me? My throat kind of burns and my sinuses are being funny too. I'm a grumpy butt and kind of down today. Z set my mood off yesterday by reiterating that I should be kissing Monsters ass and that I'm a jerk for not doing so and that all my bad luck is deserved for not being an asslicker for her. Asshat. (Gee, and how was YOUR day?)

I'm so OVER that crap. No more of the asskisssing for her. Nuh-uh. My reaction was to stare at him in shock with my mouth gaping open. *shakes head in disgust* Mood is still shit. (mine)

So go on, make my day. Cheer me up. Ask me something good, will ya?