My roommate moved out to go to grad school in Texas. This means that my cat now feels it is safe for her to leave my room during daylight hours. She comes hopping down the stairs as soon as I come home because she is hungry and has eaten all her food. It is her belief that if she is cute enough I will feed her before the designated time; thus far that has proven to be false, but she persists in her efforts. She is a fat cow and would eat until she burst if I ever filled her auto-feeder. Thus, she attacks me whenever I try to use my computer. Her favorite is to try and rub her face on my hands as I type on the keyboard; this is evidently nearly as good as me actually petting her. Also, my cat sheds like she's trying to win some kind of international competition that I was previously unaware of; I hope that she is winning.
I was trying to quickly cover AJ's chair with this plastic bag on Wednesday when I heard Travis chuckling. I looked up and saw AJ calmly watching me struggle with the too small bag. "How long have you been there?" I asked. "Long enough." Long enough indeed, I am a huge dork some (all) of the time. Well played, AJ, well played.
Don't ruin the magic!
This is what happened this afternoon when Bryan and I were left alone in the office for our lunch hour. I cannot watch it without laughing.
Oh, and an update on our word tax: we collected $3.35 at 5 cents per utterance of the word "Crazy." Next week's word is going to be "like."
A few weeks ago, AJ was going to engage in a challenge: 52 Dates in 52 Weeks. It sounded impressive and I was considering joining him in participating. So I made a profile on a free online dating site and looked around, which was what AJ was doing for his challenge. I decided not to do the challenge, mostly because I didn't think I could come even close to succeeding. However, I did message a few people and end up going on a date. It was this evening and I would say it went OK. We went to Simon's and AJ did not stalk me like he threatened to. The food was good, but she seemed super nervous.
Hobby Hoedown: I've been clearing some blackberry bushes on the back corner of my property. There is a rusty old swing set buried underneath them so it is slow going and I have no idea what I will do with the swing set pieces when I am done; they are quite unusable.
I've been playing Heroes of Might and Magic, mostly as the Necromancers because I love zombies.
The Pokemon challenge is moving along slowly, I'm training up a dark pokemon for funzies. I believe I'm up to 80 pokemon (of 256 *cringe*) and have 10 of the 16 badges
I'm rereading the Harry Potter books. Well, actually I'm rereading the first three then just reading the exciting parts of the last four. Cheating, I know. I'm on book two right now, which is definitely the winner of the "What children's book title could most easily sound super dirty?" question: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
Story Time: The Story of My Parents' Marriage
To this day none of them will admit which of them did it. It's as though they all four took a solemn vow in the back of that station wagon as they drank copious amounts of booze, to never, EVER reveal which of them did it.
What is "it" you ask? Either my Uncle Larry (my dad's older brother), Uncle Jim (dad's brother in law), or Brian (his college roommate) wrote the word Why on my father's left shoe and Me? on his right shoe. We are fairly certain that it was not Brian because he is a math teacher in Shelton and we don't think he can spell that high. Anyway, when my parents knelt towards the end of the wedding ceremony one half of the congregation chuckled in hushed amusement and the other gasped in horror.
Now, my grandmother would likely have murdered her new son-in-law and all his kinfolk if it had not been for the SIX CASES of champagne that had been purchased for the reception. Uncle Larry made certain that no one's glass was ever empty. Everyone was drunk. It was THE party of 1985. Even my elderly great-grandparents. My Great Uncle Glen, who has never been heard to utter more than five words at a time, was found passed out in a hallway with a lampshade on his head.
The only sober person was my mother, mainly because she was under 21 and would be driving them to their honeymoon in Oregon. Thus, when the time came, they helped my father into the car where he promptly fell asleep in the passenger seat. Now, my mother has this issue with deciding which direction of the freeway she should be getting on. To this day she will have to ask my dad or whoever is navigating, "Do I want to go North or South?" Only for this trip her navigator was sleeping off a God's Own Drunk. Dad woke up from his little nap just south of Seattle where he promptly informed my mother that she was driving them the wrong way. They arrived safe and sound, though somewhat later than anticipated, at the hotel in Oregon that night.
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