Wednesday

Things That Have Happened This Week... So Far

Please bear in mind that at this point, I have scarcely had more than 3 hours sleep on any given night since the beginning of the month.

1) Cats playing/fighting all night long. Every night. Ear plugs don’t work. Nor does gravol. Or a bottle of red wine.

2) My basil package fell out of my cupboard and straight into the sink full of soapy water and dished. There was basil everywhere. All the basil was completely ruined and needless to say, I had to empty the sink and start over. This may not seem like a big deal but if you add the fact that I am so exhausted that I cry at the drop of a hat WITH the fact that are all soon to experience a basil shortage of global proportions (it’s true, I read it in the paper), well, one word. DISASTER.

3) I found out my uncle has been addicted to crystal meth for the last couple of years. Suddenly his antics at Christmas last year make much more sense. Oh, and he might also be going to prison. Oddly enough the “Affair of the Basil” was much more upsetting.

4) A guy who has dissed me not once, not twice but thrice told ME to feck off when I had the nerve to ask him if we could switch the dvds we had swapped. Call me crazy but Dude, my first season of House is worth far more to me than your crappy second season of Da Ali G Show. Note to self… do not lend strangers ANYTHING. Oh, and I might have accused him of faking a broken ankle and some other stuff. But let’s all remind ourselves that I am running on about 24 hours of sleep for the entire month. But he was a big meanie to me. Next.

5) I am covering for 2 other people at work this week. I am not a machine people!

6) This hasn’t happened yet, but a work colleague invited me to a private concert for tomorrow to see… wait for it… Hootie and the Blowfish. Now, only really my old school uni peeps will know this about me, but if there is one band that I truly cannot stand in the world, it is Hootie and the Blowfish. They rank right up there with Richard Gere and raisins… But a free ticket is a free ticket I suppose. Between the two of us, it should be a fun outing: Me counting down the minutes until the concert is over, trying to do my best not to slap the person beside me just so I can take my mind off the fact that the song currently being played sounds exactly like all the other songs that were and will be played and my friend… who has never even heard of Hootie and the Blowfish.

7) Hugh has taken to peeing directly down the bathroom drain. I know, ew, but I have to hand it to the little bugger. It actually took a bit of brains to understand that liquids drain through the little hole through the tub. I think he has been studying this for a while now because for about a week he has been completely fascinated with watching the water in the shower. At first I thought he was just a little pervert, but it seems he was conducting a little bit of scientific observation. Am I ever glad he doesn’t have opposable thumbs because I think he might just have the smarts to take over the world. And a world run by cats is not one that I care to live in thank you very much.

Somebody please tell me that it's not just Wednesday...

Thursday

Rest in Peace


PlutoKu:

Ninth orb from the Sun-
How they disrespected you.
A planet no more.

Wednesday

Have you ever seen a cross between Mr. Bean and Sylvestre Stallone?

No?

Well I have... Ergo, I am better than you.

Monday

Free to a good home...

I’m still in Kitty Hell. The following are a sampling of the things that have happened thus far - week one of a month long stay:

1) Hugh has peed in places, some of which do not include his kitty litter. Luckily he has since stopped, but still, not a fan of kitty pee in the bathtub.

2) The kitties murdered my laptop. It somehow took a nose dive from its secure position on the coffee table to the parquet floor at some point while I was at work last Thursday. It needs a new hard drive. If I ever see the “Error 174” ever again during the rest of my life, it will be too soon.

3) Hugh has forgotten that he has no reproductive capabilities anymore. He is also apparently homosexual and I am pulling him off little Tartine ever 2.5 seconds. Gay Kitty Love is not as appealing as it sounds folks. Especially at 4am, when it is happening on my pillow.

4) Little Tartine is a puker, as most long-haired cats are. This would not be a problem so much if he were to choose to NOT puke on my natural wood coffee table. A table which pretty much serves as my everything table which, like, ew.

5) I hate emptying kitty litter 50 times a day. I may make the decision to stop feeding them.

6) Everything I own is coated in white Persian fur.

7) Best $4 I ever spent was on a red laser pointer. Hours and hours of laser pointer fun for all three kitties = a couple of hours of interrupted sleep for Bea.

8) I was walking past my “everything” table yesterday, upon which sat a full glass of raspberry crystal light… which is a delightful bright pink colour… when said glass literally exploded without being touched in any way. Ok, so may I can’t blame the kitties for this one… but I am SURE they must be somehow responsible, so blame them I will. My only consolation was that because the kitties had previously murdered the laptop, it was not on the table when the glass exploded and was thus spared from being doused with a glass full of bright pink liquid.

Is the summer over yet?

Thursday

Yet Another Internet Discovery

I feel compelled to share this with anyone and everyone who like to have a good chuckle.

So long story short… I got a call at work yesterday on my cell. It was from Calgary so I figured it was from my friend KS. When I got home I checked my messages and here was this message from KS, doing what I thought was the bestest freaking impression of Samuel L. Jackson that you could ever hear. About 15 seconds into the message I realized that it was not my friend KS but was actually Samuel L. Jackson… telling me that if I did not go and see Snakes on a Plane he would hunt me down and kill me. I was scared.

If you would like to give your friends a good laugh, as I have done, check it out for yourself: www.snakesonaplane.com.

And yes, I will be going to see Snakes on a Plane when it opens in theatres everywhere on August 18th. If you value your life, so will you.

Tuesday

Internet Discoveries Are Fun

My confession du jour is that I am probably the last person on the planet to discover My Space.

Oh, I had heard of it... A great breeding ground for pedophiles. I was even on it a while back but never really appreciated it for what it was... A really cool place to discover new music.

Anyway, sticking close to home over the weekend to make sure that Hugh didn't kill our guests gave me a bit of time to play around with it.

Check it out: www.myspace.com/beatricepetty.

Laters.

Sunday

The Arrival of D-Day...

As I start this posting it is just coming up to 9am on Sunday morning. I have been out of bed for about an hour.

But what time did you wake up? I can hear you all asking.

Why, I woke up at 9:30am...

... Yesterday morning.

Yesterday afternoon saw the arrival of Tartine and Couscous, two very adorable Persians who had come away from the groomers looking like little mini lions. Pretty adorable.

To make a long story short. Hugh loves them. I think eventually it will be to the death, but at the moment he can't seem to get enough of them - the little Tartine especially, who is about half the size of Hugh.

And so throughout the evening and as the night wore on, the "playing" got more intense. It went a little something like this:

1) Hugh meows, signaling his eminent pounce. Sometimes one meow, sometimes several, but always loud.

2) Now forewarned of the attack, Tartine turns and lets out a screech loud enough to wake the dead... which is comforting to know because another night of no sleep will surely cause such a calamity.

3) Hugh, quite nonplussed about this howl, goes in for the pounce anyway.

4) Tartine, with yet another screech, this time louder by ten-fold, hits back with a force that only a tiny little "fur shaved in the style of a lion" kitty can muster when faced with a very insistent foe.

5) Hugh jumps back, startled at the ferocity of the defence. He responds with a little chirp as if to say "Ok, you got me. Totally didn't see that coming."

6) Feeling that the little exchange is over, Tartine turns away to go about his business of survival.

7) Repeat steps 1 through 6 over and over and over again for 12 solid hours.

In the end (middle of the night) I broke down and put the two visitors in my hallway/closet/bathroom, along with all their necessities. I wanted them to be able to do their feline duties undisturbed by Hugh. They seemed OK, but not impressed with their tight quarters I am sure. But what of Hugh?

About the only thing putting the cats away so that he could not get to them solved was that I was able to skip through steps 2 through 6 and just had to contend with #1. Over and over and over and over and over.

Putting him outside seemed like a lovely idea, until I did that and in 2.5 seconds proceeded to peepee all over the one chair that I have out on the patio. Ew. So in he came and howled and howled and howled until I could no longer take laying in bed with earplugs in my ears that did crap all. 29 decibels is apparently about as loud as as octogenarian shuffling their slippers as they walk down the hall in the retirement home. And not two cats duking it out right under my bed and howling at the top of their lungs. Just an FYI...

If I don't post for a while, you can assume that one of three things has happened.

1) I have dropped dead from exhaustion,

2) I am on the run from the animal welfare authorities, who do not look kindly at people who agree to look after co-workers pets and then turn around and sell them to the Carnival,

3) These cats seemed destined to consume the better part of my life for the next month. I shall spare you the gory details of daily life in the crazy house.

Goodbye

Friday

The Creature from the Black Lag-womb

I spoke with my Mom last night… blah, blah, blah… she loves me and is proud of both my brother and I… how we never needed anti-depressants growing up. You know, the usual parental gushing stuff.

Somehow we got turned on to talking about when she was pregnant with me and how much I did not want to come out. I was two weeks overdue and apparently that was quite irritating to her. She just wanted me out. But I didn’t want to come. I was cozy. I was safe. She decided that the best way to make me pop out would be to engage in a rigorous house vacuuming session which she proceeded to do. I guess it worked because said vacuuming did induce labour and off to the hospital Ma and Pa went.

Sadly, there were also a lot of other babies who decided to make that appearance that fateful February 15th. My insistence on staying inside my nice cozy womb had meant that of those expectant Mothers to be, my Mommy arrived last and there was no room at the inn. So, not unlike the biblical story of old, Mr. and Mrs. Petty were put in the manger… or broom closet…

29 hours later and I still did not want to come out. I guess my Dad got bored of my Mom being in labour so he left the manger/broom closet to take a quick nap in the cafeteria. My mom wasn’t impressed. After all, my Dad was the one who had gotten her into this mess in the first place and god dammitt he was going to suffer the consequences along with her. So back my Dad came.

Shortly thereafter I arrived and was promptly whisked away to the nursery. A while later Mrs. Petty felt well enough after her ordeal to take a trip to the nursery to have a look at her new darling baby girl. When she gazed upon her new daughter, tears began to flow. Partly due to joy. Partly due to the hideousness of the creature that lay before her.

Skin peeling, scaly, blotchy, red and hairless…

Mrs. Petty had given birth to a Lizard Baby.

“All the other babies are so beautiful”, Ma Petty asked the nurse. “Why is my baby so repulsive to look at?”

The nurse proceeded to explain “Well Mrs. Petty, didn’t you know? When babies are two weeks over due, their skins start to react to the liquid in the womb, so your baby will be scaly and shed her skin for quite some time before it returns to normal”?

“Yes, but why is she as red as a tomato?” inquired the new mother. “All the other babies have a beautiful golden hue, as if the goddess herself had smiled down upon them and blessed them. Why, why does my baby look like such a freak of nature?”

The nurse laughed, “Hahahahaha Mrs. Petty, why, don’t you know? Most babies are born with jaundice which causes their skin to turn a yellowish hue. Your daughter, unsightly as she may be, is the healthiest of the lot. At least she would be,” paused the nurse, “if she was not molting.”


And that, my friends, is the story of how I came to be.

The End

Bea “LizI AM the Lizard Queen” Petty

PS. And I do peel. To this day, put me out in the sun for 5 minutes and I will burn. It’s probably due to the fact that I lost more skin within the first 2 hours of being born than most people do in their life time.

Wednesday

TTC Doing its Part

OK,

So further to my mini-rant yesterday about the hottest day EVER, which literally turned into the hottest night EVER… literally. I read that in the paper this morning… which makes total sense because my antique AC could scarcely keep up and I sweated all night long. But seeing as how I have been sweating pretty much solidly for the past two weeks, what’s an hour or two or eight here and there?

Anyway, on my way home yesterday I spotted a bus that was parked in front of the subway station. It was one of the new buses where you can program pretty much anything into the message thingy on the front. Here is what it said, in its fancy schmancy scrolling manner:

SMOG ALERT

TAKE TRANSIT....

Not in Service

SMOG ALERT

TAKE TRANSIT...

Not in Service

SMOG ALERT

TAKE TRANSIT...

Not in Service

SMOG ALERT

TAKE TRANSIT...

Not in Service

I giggled all the way home… tee hee.

Tuesday

Axes and Furnaces Suck

The past few months at work have been kinda sorta interesting. A while back I might have mentioned some of the following that:

a) I had been offered a full-time position here but then
b) That had been reneged upon and I was not been offered anything but then
c) Due to a lack/complete absence of communication it had been presumed that I would not be interested in the position, which was due to be changing slightly and then
d) The higher-ups decided to completely re-structure the entire organization and
e) Yes, they were happy to have me but that
f) I was only going to get a contract extension of 3 months because due to the above mentioned re-structuring that the position might change within that time and they wanted to make sure it was going to work before they committed to hiring me on full-time in that capacity but that
g) I was to be rest assured that I would have a job at the end of those 3 months, they were just not sure exactly in what capacity and finally
h) I signed my contract yesterday.

Well sadly, there is more to add to this alphabet story for on the very same day that ‘h)’ (please see above) occurred, ‘d)’ (please see above) completely kicked into high gear yesterday which resulted in:

i) A few people losing their jobs including a very good friend of yours truly and some others that I never though would be a result of ‘d)’ (please see above).

I felt sick to my stomach yesterday and only decidedly less so today. Coupled with the fact that it is about 50 degrees outside and you get the kind of ill-humour I am in today. Also contributing to my ill-humour is that I was fortunate enough on the weekend to be reminded about how great cuddling is and really how much I have missed it… Of course we all know my luck so this particular cuddling session is likely destined to be a one off, but it was nice nonetheless.

Actually, now that I think about it… the cuddling… not the weather… or the “restructuring” , I do kind a feel a bit warmer and fuzzier inside… the good kind of warmer… not the “I could step out to grab a bite to eat but I think I would rather starve than walk outside to grab food” warmer.