Let The Season.....Begin!

When I typed that heading, I heard it in my head like "Get Ready To Rumble!" Didn't you? No, just me then.....

Anywho, tomorrow I'm off to the North for Thanksgiving. I haven't been to my parents in months, which is unusual, and I just can't wait. It's my Urban Detox, and boy do I need it now. I'll have to come back to reality on Friday, as I am scheduled to work at the retail job. Should be an interesting day.

I've been listening to the all Christmas music station, so in a weird way I feel like I'm going home for Christmas. Oh great, I have a sneaking suspicion that I know what my nightmare is going to be tonight--going home for Christmas and forgetting to buy presents.

Yeah, did I mention I've been having nightmares? The kind that only I find scary. When I tell somebody about them, I just get this blank, "you call that a nightmare?" kind of look.

Do You Hulu?

If you have not checked this site out, you absolutely must! It's become the replacement to the DVR I gave up when I moved. They have all seasons of The Pretender, and you can watch them. For Free! Except CBS shows. CBS can Suck It!

http://www.hulu.com/

It's a little like YouTube, but as far as I've seen, you can't upload your stupid home movies to it.

And speaking of home movies, I'll be visiting my Sister for Thanksgiving and begging her to let me post the video of her wedding during which her new hubby drove a snowmobile. Into a pond. In his tux. In August.

The (Other) Cat Has Something To Say

So, I've hit a little roadblock in regards of what to post. I could go with the ol' standby of pictures of Pickle, but I'm sure you are all tired of that shitck. So, I was sitting at my desk, staring at the screen, when Lula offered to write something for me today. And without further adeu, making her debut, I give you LullaBelle (aka Louie)---

She Who Feeds has been spotty in her quest to complete NaBloPoMo. Since I do not want her to become a failure, I must step in. I do adore her, as She is the one Who Feeds, and she understands that a lap is my rightfull napping place. But sometimes she is a little lacking. As in the area of giving Treats. Also, she does not allow me to lick her. This sometimes hurts my feelings.

No introductions should be necessary, but since she has only ever written about that knucklehead...Booger...I, LullaBelle Catterina, am very pleased to meet you, Internets. You may address me as "Tsarina". Or Princess Kitty. That will do nicely.

Despite what she says, she doesn't like you. I like you. Bring me treats. And CatNip. She Who Feeds is also She Who Rations The Happy Cat Weed.

To the One Who Lives In The Room I Can't Go In: You have, on occasion, brushed me. And that is nice, but I know that you know where the CatNip is. I am holding you just as responsible for the rationing. But I will sit on you, as you are warm and you sing to me. And this is what I deserve.

As for The Booger, I am the Special One, he is the "Special" one. But he is my best friend, so only I am allowed to say mean things to him. Because he is bigger than me and he chases me, and words are my only defense. Words and sneak attacks.

And to the One Who Occasionally Visits. I sit on your lap and I allow you to pet me. You let me lick you even when She Who Feeds says "no," and that is nice. But you smell funny and should bring treats.

Jigga What....

...Big Pimpin' all Christmas style. It begins tomorrow.

I've set my mind to start the holiday decorations. The Brit is setting up the outside lights very soon, and for once we might have the cutest house on the block. Snow is wonderful in that you don't have to mow or rake it.

I want a Pink and Gold tree, but I think The Brit wants to go with something a little more traditional.
Speaking of traditions, I'm hoping she will bring a Little Bit of England to our house this year.

Did I mention she has Style? Hip, British Style.

I may be the Queen of Obsessive Thinking, but at least I'm not the First Lady of CrazyTown!

Dear First Lady of Crazy,

I'm not sure if you are aware, but delusions are not healthy. Harboring them doesn't imporove their chances of becoming real.

I have had enough of watching my back, checking what I say for fear of escalating a "situation." I didn't want to provoke the Crazy.

Well, I am done. Do whatcha gonna do. Cause, Bee-otch, I'm just too tired.

Letter To The Management

To Whom It May Concern (not me, cause I don't give a shit anymore);

I appreciate the fact that, in retail, I must sit through a Holiday Meeting. The fact that I get Paid to listen to you talk is a bonus. What I do not appreciate is the fact that what you are talking about is shit everybody in the room should know. This ain't their first disco, they should know this stuff.

The fact that they don't know this stuff makes my head want to spin and spew green vomit.

Seriously. Gross, but so true. I've spent the last two hours trying to dig one shred of viable new information out of the tripe I was subjected to and all I've come up with is this: A coworker, when asked for a way to improve our "customer service," replied----Oh my god, this is just so beautiful it deserves it's own paragraph---

"Frosted Flakes!"

And just for a little contrast, the "holiday meeting" at the office goes a little something like this, "Want the whole week off? Take it! We don't have much going on anyway."

Ho Fucking Ho Ho

Too Much Cute....Must Share

Pickle has discovered his hands. And he giggles. Talk about a cute overload.