linky-blogs
KittyKitty
Thursday, October 03, 2002
For some unknown reason~~~I got to thinking about my prepubescent days and how different the world was then. I really need to share this tender slice of innocence, c. 1943. Two of my girlfriends had started their menstrual periods and were strutting around like they invented the ovulating egg. I was jealous, 13 and no sign of this passage into "womanhood". My mother had told me about this awesome situation and bought a "belt" and a package of Kotex, to be prepared for the momentuous day.Well, I grew impatient. One day I took my new belt and a Kotex pad, spritzed a load of ketchup on the pad, put the gear on and went to my friend's house..........where I loudly proclaimed that I too, was now a woman. And even showed them the evidence by pulling my virginal white cotton panties down and displaying "proof". I wore that mess for a couple of hours but even I couldn't take it anymore and the Big Revelation was dumped into the garbage.
posted by Lorraine 7:10 AM
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Wednesday, October 02, 2002
Wanna see some pictures?~~~I put a couple of big kitty pictures on my home page that a forum friend sent, at my request. Dayle had posted the pix on our forum discussion site a year or so ago, and I lost them. She was kind enough to forward these to me again. And no, I'm not talking little puddy-cats, but little Siberian tiger puddy-cats. Dayle had family who managed a Siberian tiger sanctuary a while ago, but which has since closed.
posted by Lorraine 3:58 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Oh dear, Oh dear~~~Am I doing the right thing? I am taking the weirdo tabby with the missing eartips and an attitude to the Big Veteranarian Doktor next Wednesday. The BVD is yanking out Rambo's front toenails, or claws as they are called in the animal world. I had to make the decision now because the BVD said it's harder on the cat when it is over two years old. I know I have to do it, but the thought of his pain and suffering is more than I can bear. Waahhhh..........On the other hand, it is more than I can bear paying $32 to replace two of my window screens in their frames. They're full of holes. (He liked to climb up the screens to catch bugs, the bugs and/or a fallen leaf were on the other side of the screen but he never really grasped that concept) The windowsills are a mess, all scratched up. While he's at the hospital -- snif -- I suppose it would be a good opportunity to varnish them. Poopie.
I guess I won't need the scratching post anymore, he really liked that post. Our Humane Society volunteers construct them and sell them in the gift shop. I think it may have helped keep the apartment from total destruction, not to mention the back of my recliners (his technique to gain attention) "Stop it, you miserable beast " He thought my yelling at him was a loving thing to do. Told ya he was a weirdo.
posted by Lorraine 12:39 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday, September 30, 2002
The hell with the cane~~~I tried one last time yesterday. I put my stuff on the counter at Walgreen's, hung the cane on a shelf one foot away, paid for my stuff and walked out. Walked back in and retrieved the cane. OK, that's it, I'm done. No more, my painkiller and I are going it alone and we are just fine with that.Had an interesting little interchange between one of the tenants and myself yesterday, too. Parked my car (left the cane in the trunk, hell with it), noticed a bag on the trunk of the car in the space next to me. I know it's "Florence's" car so I bring the bag upstairs with me. The bag has a pair of brand-new fuchsia leather flats in it, still has price-tag (sale) stuck on bottom. Then I stop at the first apartment on our side of the 3rd floor wing, it's Jack's place and Florence is his mother. I give him the shoes 'cause I don't know what apartment his mother is in. (I could walk over to the other side of the 3rd floor and find her, but I'm too lazy)
Jack: "These aren't my mother's shoes"
Me: "They were on the trunk of her car, so I think they could be her shoes. Could you give them to her?" (I waited in the common room, or "parlor" as the old ladies call it)
(Few minutes later) Jack: "No, these aren't hers, maybe they're Grace's or Mary's."
Me: "I don't know who Grace or Mary are but they sound like a prayer of some kind"
Jack: "ha-ha. I'll check with them" (I go home, down at the other end of the hall)
(Few minutes later) Knock-knock---Jack: "Hi Rambo, how's the kitty? Oh yeah. Someone left the shoes on the table down by the patio for anyone who wants them to just take them".
Me: "Well I'll be a somofabitch"----What goes around comes around. The shoes are mine. And they are my size, which is what makes this stupid story all worthwhile. Well, to me, anyway. And since I'm the most important person in my life, that's all that counts. Þ
posted by Lorraine 1:45 PM
--------------------------------------------------------------------