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Saturday, October 24, 2009


Paul and I got stuck in a bit of a traffic jam on the Embarcadaro on our way home today. When we passed the ferry building we saw why: protesters. Global-warming-if-you-love-your-kids-you'd-be-a-vegan protesters. Who were taking their sweet, sweet time walking back and forth inside the crosswalks.

I was not a happy camper.

I hate traffic. And I REALLY HATE holier-than-thou protesters who are getting between me and my dinner. Which yes, involves meat, oh-so-delicious meat.

Anyway, there was this monster-truck style tricked out red pickup a couple cars ahead of us, right in front of the crosswalk and I saw some people talking to the dude in the pickup. I figured it was probably not a friendly conversation since this guy clearly wasn't overly concerned about carbon emissions and then something AWESOME happened.

The light changed and the protesters finally cleared the crosswalk and as the truck pulled away he gunned his engine and blew a cloud of dark exhaust into the crowd as he sped off.

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wingless was still breathing at 6:56 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, October 08, 2009

retail therapy

I am not a girly-girl. In fact, I pride myself on not being a girly-girl.

I don't wear high heels, the last couple times I have put them on I was scolded by my husband who reminded me how they give me blisters and make my arthritis flare up in my feet. My favorite outfit is pajama pants. I have no idea how to accessorize, I don't even own a single belt or bracelet, and I rarely take the time to put on makeup.

And yet...

I love buying makeup. It's instinctive or something, like a cat burying it's crap in a litter box.

Today I received a recent order from Sephora and I was SO excited and yet I still have no idea what even drove me to buy this stuff because honestly? I work at 5AM, I'm not waking up even an extra 10 minutes earlier to doll myself up.


wingless was still breathing at 6:12 PM - 0 comments

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I should have been a vet

Taz is spending the night in a luxury oxygen cage with lots of soft blankets under her and bags of IV fluid.

What's wrong with her you might ask?

So far the answer is: nothing. Bloodwork? Normal. Ridiculously expensive chest x-rays? Normal.

Not normal: breathing too fast (100 breaths per min) and a mild cat fever (103.8).

So it looks like I may be spending thousands and thousands of my hard earned money to realize that there is nothing wrong with my cat other than that she might have eaten something that didn't agree with her.

And that her owner is cuckoo.

Why do I do this to myself. I hope it makes me feel better though, just to know that she IS okay.

And when will my sleeping pills finally kick in.

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wingless was still breathing at 9:42 PM - 0 comments

Thursday, October 01, 2009

fending for myself

In our house, Paul does the cooking.

But with it being quarter end and all, he has been putting in long days and so, many phone calls later (and much whining of "when are you coming hoooome? I'm huuuuungry"), I finally decided to fix myself some dinner.

As you can see, it wasn't pretty.

(But in all fairness to myself I did make some rockin' bacon on the foreman grill to go along with my sad looking eggs.)

(Yes, those are eggs. Who knew it was that hard to flip them in the pan? Not me.)

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wingless was still breathing at 6:51 PM - 0 comments

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