May 16th, 2002

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(no subject)

These are just two of the, Top Ten Signs Your Cat Is Trying To Kill You, that I remember from David Letterman tonight.

To tune of meow mix song, sings kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill.

He's been hanging out with the dog who wants to kill you.

You'd have to know how nutty my cat situation is to understand why that's funny to me.

Beau just took pity on his hungry sleepy Mother and went downstairs and got me some olives and a bit of cheese. He brought me a knife and a teenie tiny cheese shredder that I think is a fridge magnet, it's that small. The knife though, is one of those huge, butcher knifey jobs, the kind you'd be afraid to leave out on the counter before turning in at night, just in case some bad guys happened to stumble in looking for something convenient to kill you with.

Mmmmm, I'm feeling attraction vibes for Alec Baldwin. He's on Dave tonight. He was doing a really good Clinton and damn, suddenly I felt that tingle. I have this sneaking suspicion he's a scary dude to be involved with, volatile, controlling, maybe. Scotti, may I please have sex with Alec Baldwin, just once, cause I'm feeling lonely and sleepy?

God, these olives are so salty I feel like I just swallowed a pint of seawater. Olives, the olive, Jen, heh.

Gotta change the channel, Dave thinks it's funny to cook squirrel and rabbit on TV. I so want to swear right now but I've been trying to rein it in, seeing as I've said Fuck on my journal quite a bit lately.

Anyone planning on joining the class action lawsuit against the manufacturers of phen fen?
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(no subject)

My Mom used to say this to me when I was little and would sit on her lap. I had forgotten it until I stumbled across it as a quote on Brujita's journal.

This is the version I knew, and I always thought it was Mother Goose.

There once was a girl
Who had a little curl,
Right inna middle of her forehead.
And when she was good she was very very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid.

But it turns out it was written by Longfellow to his baby daughter, and the very very line is a mistake. Here's the original.

There Was a Little Girl

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

-- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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(no subject)

What kind of idiot goes on Jerry Springer, when their partner asks them to, without thinking they're in for some big bad surprise? You know what I mean? If Scott asked me to go on Jerry Springer, well, I'd say no of course, but I'd certainly start wondering if he was a woman, or if he was sleeping with a guy, or my Mother, or something surprising. I mean how can these people go on this show thinking, dope de dope, this'll be fun, free hotel, woohoo.

Jerry: "So Big Boobed Linda invited you to come and be on the show right?"
Stupid: "Yup, thas right Jaaaarey! Ah luv her. She's mah woman!"
Jerry: "And you don't know why she invited you?"
Stupid: "Well, ah guess for the free food, and cause we like to do it in a hotel shower instead of the car. Oh damn, one of mah teeth jes fell out."
Jerry: "Well, then, let's bring her out. Please meet Linda. Linda has something to say to Stupid."
Linda: "Stupid, darlin, you really piss me off. You make me so damn mad. I hate you! I hate your guts! I wish you'd keel over dead right now. You'ze bad in bed, you don't pay fer nothin, and yer breath stanks. Baby, I'm fuckin yer sister, and yer Mama, and yer Daddy, and I'm a man, and I been strippin, and hookin a little on the side. I don't ever want nothin to do with a pig like you."
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(no subject)

Oh yeay I finally found the missing cord for my camera so I can charge it up and share some pictures with you. I still owe you a picture of the spider and some other things. I can't remember what they were.

My vet has come with her mobile vet hospital and is looking at a couple of my cats. She's going to take Myanmar to the hospital and we're going to try to save her but I don't think she's going to bounce back this time. Every morning when I get up I think that she will be dead and am surprised that she's lived another night. We have her on antibiotics, appetite stimulants, subcutaneous fluids, antacids. There isn't anything more that we can do for her here. I was ready to put her to sleep this morning when Valerie (Dr. Talleyrand, love this woman) came, but she doesn't want to give up on her and that's music to my weary ears. She thinks we should at least try putting her on an IV and warming her up. She wants to check her blood and urine again and see if we can get her back up again and then see if we can do a dental. I don't think she'll ever get well enough for that.

I'm feeling pretty numb about the whole thing right not so please don't worry. I am getting very used to my older cat friends dying. I'm sad of course, and I was crying last night, but over the course of these last few years I've developed a thicker more protective skin.

I was thinking about older people, like my parents, and how they always seemed so immune feeling-wise to the kinds of things that would just tear me up and leave me in tears. I never understood why my Mother got so angry with me when I took her to see a sad Australian movie that I loved. Afterwards she was livid and really told me off for taking her to see it. "How could you take me to something so sad? I like happy films, musicals, comedies, things that make me feel good, not horrible depressing miserable movies where everyone dies in the end!" I was so hurt at the time and judged her for being so self protective and closed minded. Of course it was totally unreasonable of her to get mad at me. I was just a kid, I didn't know the movie was about the Boer War. I wouldn't have know what the Boer War was anyway. But now looking back I am beginning to understand her kind of toughness and her not wanting to experience anything sad. Life is sad enough, and I think once you've experienced enough of it, the hurting becomes less acute and you develop a sort of calloused emotional shield. I think you have to in order to survive. Either that or these antidepressants are really doing their job.

I've finally decided what to put on my Father's grave, a personal epitaph for him and then this beautiful poem that you've probably read a million times;

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumns rain.

When you awaken in the morning hush,
I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there, I did not die.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there, I did not die!

Text by Mary Frye
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(no subject)

Okay well we're off to join the fray at Star Wars in Westwood. I ordered the tickets by phone so I hope it works out. I'm picking up Shayan, Steven, and Stephen from school and we're going to see it at 3:30, then I'll take everyone out for pizza and then home. I hope. Then at eight Scott comes over and I am going to grab him and make him my pretty princess, hunh? No, I mean I'm going to ravage him and make him my love slave. I can certainly tell a difference in my sexual energy since getting off the pill. I told Scott that having acne is a small price to pay for the return of my sex drive. He said, "It depends on how bad the acne is." Damned cynic.