Disorganization Frustration, 100% On My Driver's License Test, Twinkle Cat, National Kid's Day, Falling Tree Branches, More Crap With Rosa, Mother's Tropical Birthday, and a Brand New Boston Terrier Puppy.
I'm not getting down with my bad disorganized self today. I can't find my USB cable that connects my camera to my computer or my floppy disk adapter. We couldn't upload any of our eBay auction pictures or my Hawaii pictures to share with you, so I have to go buy another one, or ask Scott too. Much pouting. Oh and I gained one pound back making my weight loss two pounds away now from the exciting number of eighty-five pounds lost. That's it man I'm going to walk that treadmill like nobody's treadmill business. Did I tell you that I walked on it for ONE HOUR the other day? For those of you who are not super strong athlete peeples, that is a major achievement for a little Wacqui girl like me. Fifteen minutes was a big deal for me before. An hour, I couldn't believe it, I was so excited and proud of myself.
My beloved white and pink Oriental Shorthair cat Twinkle is in here with me for a rare office visit. He was merowrowing at the door so I let him in, but he just won't stop talking and it makes me think he's in some kind of need when really he's just talking about this room to me. He even let me pick him up and kiss his neck for a little bit, but no nail trimming, I'll just have to go on allowing him to rip up my neck, shoulders and legs because he won't go for that, ouch, like right now he's clawing my knees.
Last night as Scott and I were going out to my car to get some Sobe Elixir, (This is my latest fave drink, it's orange-carrot flavored. I'm pretending not to notice that there's a ton of corn syrup in it, and I water it down by more than half and add a mountain of ice. This way I get to feel like I'm still drinking a sugary drink like everyone else, only I'm not getting the same amount of calories, about forty-five if you're curious about that kind of thing, argh more scratching from Twinkle and a newly discovered mosquito bite. I'm so allergic to them. I feel like one of those actors in a show about the body on the Discovery Channel where they show a digitalized rendering of the inside of my body and my mast cells and whatever cells and histamines zooming around and making a mess of things. One little sting and I get a lump the size of a http://www.pbs.org/lewisandclark/inside/saca.html">Sacagawea</a> dollar. I could have said fifty cent piece but it's so much more fun to say Sacagawea. BTW did anyone see that bizarre show about the body where this man found out that he had a conjoined twin stuck in his stomach, and was this the longest parenthetical digression ever?) we heard this loud cracking/munching sound that I thought was the sound of someone driving over shards of glass and Scott thought were fireworks. Then right in front of us this enormous limb from our neighbors tree came crashing down. It was like a scene out of The Ice Storm, that terrific movie with Joan Allen, Kevin Kline, Sigourney Weaver, Tobey Maguire, Christina Ricci and so many other wonderful actors.
The main limb or branch that fell crushed my neighbor's picket fence and it was so big and heavy we couldn't possibly lift it, but we moved all of the little branches that came down with it so that cars would be able to pass. Of course one of my elderly neighbors happened to be driving by just as we were doing this and nearly took my foot off by driving right by me while I was trying to help -- his car dragged some of the tree limbs and pulled me along with him for a couple of feet, scary. Scott got mad at him in this protective way and that made me feel happy. Sadly I have to admit that there is definitely something to be said about limiting the rights of certain elderly drivers. Especially after the tragedy we had here recently at the outdoor farmer's market in Santa Monica.
I took my driver's license test yesterday and guess what I got, well, you already know from my heading, 100%. I'm so happy about this! I don't really know why something so small should make me feel so great but it does. I didn't even study so I was sure I would miss at least a couple. In fact just before taking the test I asked the gal giving it how many I could miss and still pass and she said three. Then I asked her how many times you can take it and fail in one day and again she said three. So essentially I could miss four questions out of eighteen on two separate tests, miss three on the third and then still get my license. Sounded like good odds to me. But like I said yesterday, I'm pretty competitive and since I got 100% last time and got to crow about that for a few years I wanted to do as well this time. So when she wrote 100% on my test I was elated and bragged about it to Beau. My secret ulterior Mommy's motive was to show him how good it feels to do well on a test, not that you can do well when you don't even bother to study. Of course then I went right out and broke three traffic laws right off the bat. I don't remember what the first one was but I used a gas station to turn around in and I made a left hand turn across two double yellow lines. Yes, I'm irresponsible and Wacqui that way.
Oh my God the naughty, loudly mewing twinkle allowed me to trim his nails. I just had to ignore him long enough for him to demand that I let him sit on my lap. Then while I was kissing his naked little neck and he was busy purring I quickly whipped out the scissors and snipped off the prongy parts of his nails, woohoo, yippee, ha ha ha, I win, and so does my ripped up skin. Now he's looking at me with that give me more cheese expression on his face.
Yesterday I took Beau and his friend Shayan to the Army Surplus Outpost so they could buy some camo pants, jackets, masks and gloves for paintballing. There is a new camouflage pattern out that I'd never seen before. It's called digital camo and our guys are wearing it in combat. It looks kind of digitized, the print is smaller, and it's supposed to hide them better. I don't know why I would find that so interesting but I did. I watch a lot of war movies even though I hate war. The night before last I finally saw Tears of the Sun with Brice Willis on cable. I've had a crush on Bruce Willis ever since I first fell in love with him on Moonlighting. Shhhhh don't remind Scott, I don't think he likes it, and then he'll have to remind me that he likes every young, skinny, action, fantasy, and sci-fi chick he watches on TV.
This is exactly what our new puppy looks like, and our papillon Alley.
After we went to the army surplus store we headed over to the pet store to buy some accessories for Beau's enormous empty fish tank and wound up falling in love with ANOTHER dog. We are so the Osbournes times ten at this point. She's a little four month old Boston Terrier and I think we're going to name her Lola after my Grandmother Louise on my Daddy's side, Jack Osbourne's pooping bull dog, and Madonna's daughter Lourdes who she supposedly calls Lola. The names that were in the running yesterday were Lulu (Mine) Peggy (for my Grandmother on my Mom's side) Lola (Beau's idea) and then Scott added Susie because he said she looked like a Susie. We welcome your input.
I got a phone call yesterday from my Mother's Palm Desert golf club resort association. They told me that when my arch nemesis Rosa had gone down there to clear her son out of the house that she had brought three cars, a truck, and around six or seven people to do it. This happened over a month ago so I was wondering why they were letting me know now. Plus it sure seems weird that she needed to take that many people to pick up two kids and some food. Anyway it turns out that since that time there have been some break ins and a car theft and that there may be some connection between the guy in the truck who gave his name as Alex to the guard at the time, and the person who has been breaking in to the houses. Lo-o-ovely!
Of course I called Mom right away to let her know and she just blabbed it all to Rosa who said, "I don't know Missy Hyland. I no know no Alex. Thes crazy." When I asked to speak with my Mother's secretary to fill her in on this latest Rosa weirdness, I made sure I could hear Rosa speaking in the background so I knew she wasn't listening in. Then last night when I called my Mom to talk to her about something totally unrelated to this, Rosa answered the phone and told me she doesn't want any more trouble and that she had told her thirteen year old son, Jose Junior, who speaks English, to listen in to our phone conversation and to tell her everything that we said. This whole thing is really making me sick. She's conniving, manipulative, greedy, scary and stupid, all wrapped up into one package.
For those of you who have recently added me to your friend's lists please don't think I'm prejudiced or anti Latin in any way. My son is half Mexican in heritage, we are both bilingual, and unlike my Mother who won't even allow Rosa to sit at the same table with her when she eats, I treat the people who help us out, Esther and her family, who are from Mexico, and Irma and her family, who are from El Salvador as one big happy extended family.
The night before last was my Mother's eighty-seventh birthday, (you know I never get her age right, she was born in 1916 but tells everyone she was born in 1917 so you do the math), so we took lots of presents over to her house for her to open and we all went to her favorite restaurant Trader Vic's to celebrate. I love the old naughty hula drink menus and the tropical atmosphere. Although there isn't too much I can eat there. They had one tofu appetizer and I had a couple bites of that and a few sips of this enormous bowl of rum punch called a Scorpion that they put in the middle of the table with great big straws that we all drank from. Beau had a virgin lava flow and played with our straws. Then after dinner they bought out a ball of ice cream rolled in coconut and covered with chocolate sauce with a candle and we sang happy birthday to her. Last year before her cancer surgery I really didn't know if she would be around for another birthday so I felt happy and grateful to be able to be with her. I love my little family, Mom, Beau, and Scotty.
Tomorrow is National Kid's Day, Scott of course had to cynically add the one thing that everyone but me seem to be thinking, "Isn't every day kid's day?" But I don't think so. Kids have it tough. I haven't forgotten what it was like to be this raging little hormonal she beast in a big people's world. I felt so controlled and bossed and pushed around. I was always on the lookout for whatever punishment would be coming my way for whatever small mistake I might make, whatever thing I inadvertently overlooked. I certainly did my share of stupid and dangerous things, but for the most part I was a loving kid who just wanted to fit in and be loved and happy in this great big confusing world.
We have a Mother's Day and a Father's Day so why shouldn't we have a Kid's day? I'm all for it. So tomorrow we are all going to pitch in and begin work on cleaning out the garage so that Beau will have a nice big creative space where he can paint and build and create things to his heart's content. It'll be fun for all of us when we get it together and I'll even try to put a mini gym together out there so we can work out. Then tomorrow night we'll let Beau pick a movie and the three of us will go out. I think I'll even get him a little gift or something.
I'm thinking that this has got to be one of the longest posts I've ever written and I hesitate to bore you with any more, especially since I can't include pictures to go alone with the stories since my link cable is missing, but I just wanted to tell you a couple more stories. The saddest one is that the kitten we have been working so hard to save, our little Baby Cat, who we have been giving antibiotics, injecting with subcutaneous fluids twice daily, giving liquid vitamins and nutrical to, and hand feeding round the clock, died. We've all been crying, well those of us who know about this. We haven't been able to break it to the littlest kids because they'll just fall apart so we made the decision to fib and break it to them by degrees, "Baby cat is in the hospital... Baby cat isn't doing so well... Baby Cat might not make it... Baby Cat is going to be with the angels in heaven... Baby Cat had to go."
I think this will be easier for them than what I went through. I fed him his little syringe portions of his last meal and had him lick a few bites of Nutrical off of my fingers. I made sure he was warm and cozy, snuggled and kissed him a bunch and went to bed. Then when I woke up early in the morning he was laying dead next to me, already stiffening up, with one paw extended and his mouth and eyes open. I held him for the longest time, rocking him and crying and kissing his sweet baby face. Then I wrapped him up in my nightgown and put him down in my closet to wait for Irma to come so she wouldn't find him before I had a chance to tell her. She freaked.
I know it was meant to be in some way. He just wasn't strong enough to live no matter what super human efforts we made on his behalf. Something might have been wrong with him congenitally. I just pray he didn't suffer when he died even though I fear he did, and I pray that he will come and visit me in my dreams and tell me that he is happy and peaceful and that I will get to see him again along with all of our other beloved pets who have crossed over, big sad sigh.
I just want to add that if you have ever posted to me and not had a response from me and are feeling hurt by this will you please write to me at the one e-mail address where I actually get mail (email@example.com) and let me know so I can apologize and reassure you that I do care about you. With all of these children, people, and pets, the running of our lives and this house, caring for my elderly Mother and dealing with her abusive housekeeper, maintaining loving relationship with my partner, keeping up with the few friends I see, and the floods of phone calls, snail-mail and e-mail that I get, to say nothing of my desire to express myself creatively as an artist, is more than enough to keep a distracted ADD gal like me super busy. I promise that I read all of your kind posts and I try so hard to respond to all of them. They all mean so much to me but sometimes I just have to read them, thank you for them in my heart, and move on. Please hang in here with me just a little bit longer while I attempt to organize my life and adjust to the many changes I am going through as my body shrinks in size and I learn how to deal with my own reactions to the physical and emotional changes I am going through and the many comments and reactions of the people around me.
Much love and support,
PS: I realllly want this dress but I can't afford it, sigh.