goody two shoes

Happy Birthday, dear Chelsea!  I hope you have a wonderful day today and Mim doesn't give you shit for once in her life.  The boys want you to know that they had a gift all planned out, but since they're too busy fighting over who is getting replaced by the new kitten, they didn't get it put together.  Enjoy the spectacular day!  See y'alls tomorrow.

Turpentine Creek is a big cat sanctuary nestled into the Ozark Mountains just outside of Eureka Springs, Arkansas.  They are not a zoo, they are not breeders, they simply rescue big cats and take care of them until they pass.  Most of the cats we saw were rescued from defunct breeding facilities or owners that could not longer take care of them.  Some of them, however, were rescued from absolutely deplorable living conditions.  Several of them have permanent injuries that keep them from walking normally, living normally, being able to take care of themselves.  One has malformed hips because he was kept in a 4 ft/6ft/4ft box during his formative years.  One has a permanent limp and hops around on his back legs.  Some were left in horse trailers.  This is the box where some of them lived day after day:

They don't live like that anymore, thanks to these people.  And while they don't get the large enclosures that they should have, they get cared for by loving handlers (who don't get paid, BTW) and have the opportunity to live out their lives in relative peace.  Thanks to Tyson Chicken and WalMart, they get all the meat they want, and thanks to local business owners, they get all the toys and materials they need to have fun and live safely.  If you ever have a chance to go there, please check it out.  These cats are awesome, and even though you know they've been abused in the past, you know they're happy now.  Check these kids out and you'll realize why Craig and I are 2 seconds away from dishing out the $200 to sponsor them and keep them going for years to come.
                     

                     

 These are Hercules, Spyke, B.B. King, Willy and B.B.'s dad, Ziggy.  Love them, go see them, be awed by the fact that Ziggy is bigger than a moose.  We had fun and we hope you guys like the pictures.

We're back.  It took some coaxing, but Craig managed to get me away from Turpentine Creek without a tiger in the back seat.  I had my heart set on Ziggy, but he was a little big for the car.  Oh well.  Everything else was great, except for the Crescent Hotel ghost tour.  That was $36 of suck.  It could've been soooo much better if they'd had tour guides who could #1 Speak and #2 Keep the tour moving.  We left after an hour of it, because it was just too lame.  Oh well, life goes on and we ended up having dinner at the Rowdy Beaver.  Fun times, I tell you.  Okay, I will probably have a picture or two or a hundred to post.  Talk to you kids later!

I have the most wonderful husband in the entire freakin' universe.  I had been hearing about this Star Wars: In Concert thing from several sources, Nick, coworkers, internet, etc.  And I had DVRed a 30 minute program on PBS about it, so I watched it today.  I was left rocking back and forth on the couch, repeating "I have to go, I have to go, I JUST HAVE to go," over and over to the cats.  Not only is a live orchestra playing the greatest songs from the Star Wars canon, they are performing in time to a video being played on one of the biggest high def screens available.  Everything on stage is made to look "Star Wars-y".  There is a video screen made to look like a star destroyer, complete with afterburners, the conductor's podium looks like a hologram podium and there are going to be lasers.  LASERS people!  And as if they couldn't have made it anymore necessary for me to go, they'll be displaying props from the movie, museum style, in the areas around the arena.  Luke Skywalker's lightsaber, Queen Amidala's wardrobe from Ep. I, C-freaking-3PO.  December 9th, at the Sprint Center, I will be bouncing up and down like a kid high on too many pixie sticks and crying my eyes out from the overwhelming emotion of hearing that exceptionally crafted music played live.  Craig is the greatest person I have ever had the honor of marrying.

Before:



After:

Looks like we will be having a Nuthouse Family Outing to Shaake's Pumpkin Farm on Saturday, October 10th, around 3 or 4 pm.  We will get that time whittled down further for you.  I figure we can meet up at the Annex Prime here on Maple, truck on down to 15th, and take that right out to Shaake's.  If you have a better idea of how to get there, please let me know.  And if we're late coming home from the game, you all have keys to the house, so let yourselves in, don't mess with our stuff and keep our cats company.  :)

Okay, so it looks like everyone is on board for the pumpkin farm outing, which is awesome!  If we go on Saturday, we'll need to go in the late afternoon, around 3 or 4, so's Craig and I can go to the football game.  Or in the morning, before 11.  If we go on Sunday, we can go whenever people are available.  So, let me know when is better for you, and we shall get this mutha organized.  I might even send out fancy announcements and make it all official.  YAY!

NUTHOUSE!  ASSEMBLE!!  Or something.  Craig and I were talking a long time ago about doing something akin to forced family fun times with the Nuthouse.  Seeing as we are now scattered to the four corners, it would be great if we could have days where we all get together and be the happy...um...well, I guess functioning at a certain level family that we once were.  So, I have come up with the first Nuthouse Outing, if you would like to do it.  On October 11, or 10th even because I got the day off for the football game, whaddya say we all go out to Shaake's Pumpkin Farm and have a little fun scaring other people as we look for our usual 12 pumpkins for carving this Halloween?  It's just a thought, no one has to go.  No, wait, you do.  You have to go, because Goddamnit, I miss you guys and we need to get together again.  Anyway, let me know if this is feasible.

What would help me get over the horrible death of my poor little fishies?  If someone bought me these:



Or maybe these:

Just saying...

Something, sometime last night came into MY backyard, onto MY patio and ate every single last fish in my whiskey barrel tub.  Every single one.  It was a massacre.  There are fish scales all around the back door, and this afternoon, after one last ditch effort to find something, I discovered a bunch of scales surrounded by blood smears.  All 6 fish.  Even the little ones.  The beautiful white one, with her billowy white tail waving behind her.  The bold black and orange one, always first to the side of the tub for food.  And all the little ones, rescued from the pond at work, reared for a year in a one gallon tank with nothing else to look at other than my ugly mug.  One of those was a butterfly koi.  I was looking forward to seeing it and the white one swim around, waving their beautiful long, flowy tails.  All of them gone, with no idea that it was even happening.  I'm severely bummed, people.  I was hoping one day to have to make them a bigger pond, because my love and devotion had caused them to outgrow a standard sized whiskey barrel.  I don't know what it was, but it's got blood on it's hands, paws, beak, whatever, and vengence will be mine.  If I ever figure out what it was and catch it.  God, this is depressing.  I'm going to go cry now.

Happiest of birthdays to you, dearest friend Paul.  Does this mean I spank you today?

Goodbye Sen. Kennedy.  You were...interesting.  You made the state of Massachusetts, well, let's just say special.  I feel I should say something since I lived under your rule for 15 years, but I can honestly say that you really did nothing for me that I can point to and say, "YES!"  Um...let's see...your gin blossoms were something to behold.  The way the sunlight on the Cape captured their peaks and valleys was breathtaking.  Hey, I can at least thank you for giving me one of my favorite sayings: That's more fake than a Chappaquidick neckbrace.  Too soon?

Happy birthday to Mr. Brimer.  You old fogie, nevermind that I'm not that far behind you.  Think of it this way, 30 is the new 20.  Actually, things like that mean absolutely nothing...so, back to this: you old fogie.

My grandmother died today.  She was only a few years away from a century.  She died peacefully in her sleep, a nurse holding her hand as she faded away.  I know I should feel relief that she isn't suffering anymore, but I'm still really sad.  She loved travelling, organ music, Wheel of Fortune and she doted on my brother and I.  Ada Ernestine Boss was not really the coolest person in the world, but she still saw more, did more, and knew more than I will ever see, do or know.  Favorite story:  When she was attending teacher's college in Chicago, at the age of 16 no less, she snuck out one night to go to a speakeasy with her friends.  They had to cross a farmer's field, almost got stuck in the barbed wire, but still managed to make it to his rundown little shack.  While there, she met up with her 30 year old, divorced Catholic (!!!) boyfriend.  If I recall correctly, that wasn't the only speakeasy she had been to.  She once told me that she had been in another one in the city with a friend when it was raided by the cops, but she was let go because she had only been drinking a soda.  She lived through the worst times this country has ever seen (screw you, world, this is nothing compared to the hardships she'd known) and managed to raise two of the coolest people I know.  My mother is my absolute best friend in the world and my Uncle Eric is infinitely cool.  Rest in peace, Grandma, rock out with Bach and have a great time with Grandpa.  See you on the flip side.

Well, I could start by saying that it was interesting to say the least.  Craig, Paul and I went into KC last night to go to the Reel Big Fish/The English Beat show at the KC Crossroads.  Outdoor venue on a hot day?  Sure, why not, it was later in the evening, around 8ish, and things would be cooling down.  So we get to the first act, a group that call themselves The Supervillains.  They called themselves reggae but did a very good job of going between reggae and ska.  I think I would've liked them better if they hadn't been such vulgar stoners, but they did a wonderful ska version of Billy Joel's "Movin' Out", and I will be downloading that in the near future.  Now we come to The English Beat.  I had reservations about it, because I know the original setup broke up and had been performing as two separate versions of the Beat.  So when they ran on stage, I thought, hey, I think that's the white guy...shorter hair, bigger belly, but it could be him.  And then he starting singing and I knew it was Dave Wakeling, because that's a voice that's hard to imitate.  About fifteen minutes in, the lightning starting picking up from the glorious cold front that pushed through right after The Supervillains got off stage.  Theeeeeen, about a half an hour in, the rain just starts coming down.  The wusses and posers in the crowd immediately hightailed it for the bar in the back or the drink huts, but WE the strong, the few, the proud stuck it out and got completely soaked.  It was awesome.  We're just standing there, skanking, enjoying "Save it For Later", "Tears of a Clown", and even though it wasn't a Beat song, "Tenderness", which Wakeling dedicated to John Hughes.  All the rest of the band ran for the back of the stage, but Wakeling did everything he could to stay out front, and got soaked just like the rest of us.  Their set ended on a high note, which the owner of the Crossroads immediately smashed into pieces.  The reason why we were even at the show that night, Reel Big Fish, was not allowed to take the stage because of some code in Missouri that says that a band can't perform if the stage is wet.  That didn't go over well, to say the least, with chants of "Bullshit!", "Fish can breathe in water!", and "Rain OR Shine!" which didn't seem to make the staff very happy.  Everyone left angry and upset, which was a shame because we really enjoyed the Beat.  So needless to say, it was a nice show, could've been better.  Craig and Paul wouldn't let me knock on the door of the RBF bus and demand a free concert, but we'll see what happens.  They don't seem like a band to TOTALLY shaft their fans, but really, what could they do?  It was fun, for an hour at least.

Well, like DUH!

www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32178794/ns/health-pet_health/

Well, first thing I should say is that my grandmother is a tough old lady.  Since I last posted about her dying soon, she has rallied, not once, but at least 3 times by now.  Enough so that they were able to get her dressed and wheel her up to her apartment (that my mother and uncle recently emptied) to get some things she would need for her stay in hospice.  Good times.
I have not had internet for what has felt like forever (more like 3 or 4 days) and it's pretty much killed me.  I've wanted to look stuff up, see how my friends are and the like, and not having the ability to do so was torture.  We still don't have a dial tone at the house and we can't for the life of us figure out what the cable jack in the living room is connected to.  After waiting for an hour here at Java Break, I was able to get a few things done, with my free internet pass like getting the photo of Ollie (the cat) that my brother sent me, find out that CM Punk's real name is Phillip (how cute, it's been bothering me since Craig & I had the conversation while watching the PPV), get my fill of past I Can Has Cheezburgers that I've missed (funny photos of cats keep me from killing people), find out that the government screwed itself with this whole Cash for Clunkers thing, and almost puked when I read that the Patriots are considering going after Michael Vick if he's reinstated.  Yes it's a publicity stunt, but one that I just can't agree with.  Looks like the Patsies have lost a fan, GO BRONCOS.  God it's sucked not being able to do this.
Sean & Chelsea, I miss you, it's been so quiet in the house.  Thank you for all your help with moving and such, I'm sorry your apartment was a disaster and if you need anything, let me know.  Chelsea, you rock for painting the trim in the bathroom when you absolutely didn't have to.  I will take good care of your furry children until such a time when the landlord stops dicking around with you and gets you a place to live that won't kill you with black mold.  Okay folks, take care.  I might get to do this sometime soon, if they fix the internet at the house on Monday, IF.  If they don't, I might have to live here at Java Break.

My mom called me this morning to let me know that my grandmother has been moved to the 3rd floor of her retirement home from the hospital to die.  She stopped eating and refused to be fed, has been unconscious for a while now and the only thing keeping her alive is the IV, because legally, the Meridian can't just let her die, even though that's what she wants.  I've known this was coming, it's been in the back of my mind for a few years now, but now it's happening and I feel awful.  I realized this afternoon that the last time I actually spoke to her was my wedding day.  And the last time I sent her a note was a thank you for my birthday gifts.  I kept thinking about sending her a note about the new house with a photo, but always forgot about it and now she wouldn't even see it if I did send it.  Why does it always seem like you've never had enough time when you've had all the time in the world?

Alright kids, as of this time tomorrow, I will be participating in the rehearsal for my best friend Melissa's wedding.  I will be in the warm, inviting world of Southern Hospitality for four days and will love every minute of it.  My husband will have the whole bed to himself, and will continue to only sleep on the left side only.  I'm looking forward to being away from work for a few days, I'm really getting sick of the place.  Take care of my husband, please.  He will get bored, and when he gets bored, he gets bad ideas.  I will be back on Monday, relax for maybe one second before I realize that at nine the next morning, I will be signing my life away into a house.  AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH...ahhhhh...ahhh...