Friday, March 07, 2003

Hey, Who Snuck~~into my blog the other day and published such a dumb downer? Oh, that's right. It was me. But not really me, know what I mean? I must be feeling better, I am Mad as Hell and I Ain't Gonna Take it Anymore. AAw right! I am back in pissy mode again. Yay! Wednesday's pity party is history......Whew.

For those who can't get enough of puking about Michael Jackson's adventures in La-La Land, today's gossip news offered another "Whaaaa?" tidbit about this freak. A condensed version of the column said----------

"The news from Neverland is again quite strange. Vanity Fair reports in its March issue that Michael Jackson was so upset with certain Hollywood types [Steven Spielberg, David Geffen and 23 others] that he paid a witch doctor to put a voodoo hex on them. The mag said Jackson paid $150,000 for the hex. [snip] As part of the hex deal put together by a West African voodoo chief named "Baba", 42 cows were sacrificed and Jackson bathed in sheep's blood.

[snip]......"Other tidbits from the Vanity Fair report: Jackson wears a prosthetic tip on his much-altered nose. Without it, says one insider, he resembles "a mummy with two nostril holes". Vanity Fair also says Jackson bleaches his skin (shocking! who knew?) and paid off no less than 10 young boys for their silence regarding his relationship with them.

Oh, you're having your lunch now? Bon Appetit!!
posted by Lorraine 8:57 AM 
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Wednesday, March 05, 2003

I'm bored~~I schlepped around in my nightgown and robe all day, didn't do squat. Of course, since I was hurting so bad I could hardly walk at all, housecleaning was out of the question. Like I care? I am sure it will wait for me, but just in case I forget, I wrote a message in the dust on the top shelf of the bookcase "Clean Me". Reminders are good.

There's one hunk of the late afternoon when it's too early to crash into the recliner and surf the TV channels, and too late to start any kind of a project. I could mend two lounging gowns that have split seams here and there. Nah. I could move the buttons on an old black coat I have, which is a little tight across the tum-tum for some reason (?), but it's almost Spring, why bother with a winter coat now............

I'll just go now. There's a carton of ice cream calling my name......OK, that sounds pretty good to me. Then tomorrow will be a better day, I'm sure. I really hate when days like today happen. *sigh*
posted by Lorraine 6:42 PM 
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Sunday, March 02, 2003

Nightmare on Elm Street~~Actually, the terror transpired in the morning. It was a bright, sunny Winter day, cold but not too bad. Rambo had left for Uncle Jack's place and I was immersed in my machine, doing important stuff like checking mail and reading forum posts.

Some small hint of disquiet flashed thru my mind. I looked at my watch and discovered it was 9:45 a.m. Holy Batcave Robin, Rambo has never stayed at Jack's this late! I shuffled on down to Jack's apartment, the door was closed. That ominous flicker of fear intensified. I knocked on his door. When he answered I said, "When did Rambo leave your place?" He said, "Well he left about 8:30, he's not home?".

I told myself not to panic. But I did anyway. I rushed back to my place and looked all over, even under the bed. No sign of Rambo. It was TOO quiet. His glitter balls and wing-dings (bottle cap circles) were scattered all over. How lonely his little toys looked lying there! I had to extend my search beyond the door of our hallway. I got dressed, sort of, and checked each wing, the laundry room, then opened the patio door and called his name. There were footprints in the snow on the patio that could have been kitty prints but there was no response to my panicky calling of his name. He wasn't outside. I really didn't think he would have gotten outside........

I went back to the 3rd floor common room, where Jack was just coming back from the garage. We talked about what to do next. Then there was a faint, little "meow". We both heard it. Then a little louder "meowwwww". Jack said, "He's on the first floor!" We dashed down there, I went one way and Jack went to one of the couches next to the security window to the foyer. He pulled the couch up and out and Yippee, there was Rambo, crouched in the farthest corner under the couch. He tried to run away as I came towards him, he was scared. Then he smelled my hands and let me pick him up. His eyes were as big as saucers and he looked SO scared.

When we opened the door to our hallway, I let him down and he ran like a bat out of hell down to our apartment door, jumping up on it, so excited. When I came in and closed the door, I could swear he sighed contentedly and in cat talk said, "Aunty Em! Aunty Em! I'm home, I'm really home". It was a three-Kleenex moment. *snif*

Just like the time he stayed overnight at the vet's place when he had his fingernails ripped out, the apartment had the biggest, loneliest feeling in the world! It is absolutely the most incredible feeling. It was that same feeling when he was lost the other day in the bowels of the apartment building............so quiet, so empty. Very funny sensation of loss. But of course, in typical cat fashion, he shrugged off his experience and pranced around like the King of Kittymutz that he is. Gosh, I really love that little freak.
posted by Lorraine 2:55 PM 
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