The too much information musing (i.e., you were warned):

I don't know why I bother masturbating when I'm drunk. It's rarely, if ever, satisfying. :P

OMG, updated the Whore's Boudoir a week after I updated it last time. Could this be a new trend?!

Bask in my semi-return, my poor audience. At dinner last night, JJ seemed disappointed that I wasn't updating more often, so now you must all suffer the wrath of my brain ramblings.

Also, for those of you who are curious, the truth is out -- Carl is only 16 years old. But he's a cute 16, so it's all okay.

I've gotten totally addicted to a number of the songs off the Scrubs soundtrack (or at least from the show) lately. In no particular order, I highly recommend:

* Lazlo Bane, "Superman" (the title theme)
* Eels, "Fresh Feeling"
* Incredible Moses Leroy, "Fuzzy"
* Colin Hay, "Overkill"
* Colin Hay, "Beautiful world"
* Leroy, "Away"
* Tricky, "Over me"
* David Grey, "Please forgive me"
* Leroy, "Good time"
* Erasure, "A little respect"
* John Cale, "Hallelujah"
* Francis Dunnery, "Good life"
* Josh Joplin Group, "Camera one"
* Everything, "Hooch"
* Nina Simone, "Sinnerman"
* Jeerem Kay, "Have it all"

I think that covers most of them. Lately I've certainly been enjoying the last one, "Have it all" (as well as "Good life") -- and I think I'm going to try to use a line or two out of it to springboard into a story... I just haven't decided what yet. My creativity is not at its highest. :P

And on that note, I leave you with an utterly boring, irrelevant post. Enjoy!

Well, I had a nice dinner out with JJ, since I'll be missing his goodbye dinner on Friday. Part of the evening included a drunk guy passing by, telling us through the open windows (the whole front of the restaurant was open to passers-by) telling me that my breasts looked very good in my shirt.

Even funnier was the fact that I'm fairly certain he started saying this before he even really saw me. But hey, I'll take the compliment, I guess. :P

I also saw a guy on my way to work today that at first glace seemed to be UBFM. Fortunately not, and the guy was too young anyhow, but it was a bit of a jolt.

I was working on a post earlier today; it should appear tomorrow, depending on how busy the day is. I'm going to bed shortly, so that I actually get a decent night's sleep (in theory) for a change. :P

Sometimes I am amazed at how small this world is.

We vaguely remember the paramedic, yes? He went to skydiving school with a guy I knew from high school. I saw pics of the group of them at skydiving school, including them suspended from the ceiling in a harness, learning.

Fast-forward to now.

I meet a new guy through cupid.com. He's cute, we chat (though mainly email, since we're not often online at the same time), he sends me a pic of him at skydiving school (two, actually). Huh, this set-up looks familiar.

I ask him if he knows the guy I went to high school with. He does. I mention he might've gone to this school with my ex-. We talk about that a bit, he sends me a group pic of them at the school, and sure enough, there's the paramedic.

I shake my head, 'cause there's nothing much more to say about it. My life is strange.

Well, Venus is officially named my cat of frustration. Argh. For the squeamish, you might want to move down to where the bolded text is – this is going to discuss kitty bodily functions, though with fairly mild terms.

A little while ago, her coat started getting oily, especially in her armpits. I called my vet, they recommended changing her food – which I kinda figured would be what was suggested. I bought some TechniCal, a good quality dry food, and slowly started introducing it into their food (basically pouring out about the regular helping of their usual stuff, and sprinkling some of the new on top).

As far as I could tell, Venus was avoiding it like the plague. However, she can be challenging to get trying new foods, so I gave it some time.

I came home from work on Friday to find her dragging her little fuzzy bum down the hallway, and with a messy hindend. I’m sparing you guys the gory details, but honestly, if you’ve ever dealt with pets or children in any capacity, it’s not that awful. Then again, maybe I’m more immune because of my time at the animal hospital and the fact that I was often the one commissioned to deal with the gross stuff when I was still living at home. Anyhow…

I got her into the bathroom, cleaned her up as best as I could (a task better accomplished when she was cradled on her back in my lap, rather than standing in the inch of water in the tub), and dried her off a little. She was still dragging her bum somewhat, but I figured it was probably due to still being a bit dirty (and now, to heap insult upon injury, soggy), and perhaps a little irritated from the indignity of having her bum washed. I also dumped out the mixed food, and replaced it with a dish of their regular.

After I finished washing her, she headed on to my bed and looked as if she was going to go to the bathroom there. I popped her back into the bathroom and changed her litter box. Once I released her, she went into the litter box and strained a little, but didn’t seem to do anything major (which would have been a side effect of me washing her; mother cats lick a kitten’s bum in order to stimulate it to go to the bathroom when they’re wee – the same effect seems to hold true when they’re older), though I think she did dirty herself a bit more (which I subsequently tried to clean). I figured that she’d spend some time washing and everything would (hopefully) be resolved. Sometimes things work out that way. As the rest of this tale will prove, such was not the case this time around.

So I went on to my evening of dinner and stitch and bitchery with my girlfriend N (who actually came over to get some DVDs and books from me) with a fairly clear conscious. I came home Friday night and found my poor wee one with some new dirty on her bum end, which I did my best to clean up. Given that it was nearly 2 a.m., I decided that it was time for bed.

I woke up just before 9 (I had set my alarm for 9) on Saturday and found my wee one still dragging her bum around. I was trying to decide if I had enough time to get her to my vet before my hair appointment (at 11:15) and back, or not – and I figured not. My vet closes at noon on Saturdays, and I knew it would be a few weeks before I could get back in to see my hair stylist, so I decided that I’d see how long my appointment took, and if I could, I’d try to squeeze in to the last regular hours appointments at the emergency vet. If that didn’t work out, I’d go and see them as an emergency appointment – because I didn’t want to leave my little girl unchecked until Monday, and Sundays are always unlikely for this sort of thing.

So I went to get my hair done, fairly conflicted, but I talked about it with my hair stylist (who is also a devoted pet owner, and whose long-term boyfriend is in school to become a veterinarian or technician, I don’t remember which), and she said, as I suspected, that if I’d had to cancel for pet-related issues, she’d have totally understood. She even offered at one point to call her boyfriend to ask him if it was an emergency-worthy issue, or not. I thanked her, but said it was okay, that I didn’t mind paying the extra.

On my way to my appointment, I had called Stefan to see if he could provide chauffeur service, and he said he could. I could easily have taken a taxi, but sometimes it’s nice to have a friend along.

I got home around 3:30 (yes, it took 4 hours, but I’m no longer a redhead – snuck that in on you), called Stefan, and found out he was naked and in need of clean clothes, so it would be awhile. I’d already called the emergency vet, and thought of calling them back to say it would be awhile, but didn’t bother. I am a bad pet owner/appointment person. I played some Katamari Damacy (still don’t know if I like this game or not), dozed off a little, and then when Stefan arrived a bit before 5, went to find the kitty.

She was missing.

Now, I knew I had seen her when I came home, and she hadn’t snuck out when I let Thena out or anything like that, so I was at a loss as to where she would be. I checked her various preferred hiding places, and some I invented, and wound up finding her tucked in one of the storage spaces I have, where her litter box resides, behind boxes and cabinets and so on – in short, in an ideal location so as not to be reached by me.

I tried to convince her to come out, I poured some food into the dish, I shifted the boxes around a bit, and she eventually came out on her own. She fought me when I tried to put her in the carrier, which isn’t typical for her, but I got her in and we were off.

There was a bit of a wait at the hospital, which was fine, and I explained my delay as being a result of her hiding. There was a very whiny, barky Husky in the feline lounge where we were hanging out, but he didn’t seem to bother Venus – at least, she didn’t seem any more stressed than she already was. I had my arm in her carrier and was patting her the whole time. I’m fairly certain she purred a little, but she might’ve just been tense and shivering. Sometimes they do both.

We got escorted into a room, and I brought her out to cuddle her on my lap. She stayed fixed against me and didn’t move – again, not her normal behaviour. She seemed to start purring at one point, which I was glad for.

After probably ten minutes of waiting, I hauled out my book and started reading, still patting my tense kitty. I leaned back in the chair at one point, and she seemed to lean with me, so as to keep pressed up against me. My girl.

It was a solid 25 minutes of being in the room from when I started actually keeping track (around when I got my book out) before the doctor arrived. She checked Venus’ eyes and mouth, and commented that she’d never seen eyes like Venus’ before, and that they were absolutely gorgeous (they’re a golden brown colour) – I mentioned that I’d thought of naming her Van Morrison when I first got her (a cookie or gold star to whoever can figure out why!). The vet felt her ears, saying she thought she had a temperature, and was going to take it. When we spun Venus around, the vet said that she was fairly dirty – I felt guilty about that, and said that I’d done my best to clean her up – so she took her into the back, where she was going to check her anals, take her temperature, and shave her fur a little. She told me the bum-dragging was likely a result of being dirty, which she repeated when she brought Venus back to me – one side was very full, the other had a little bit of fluid in it.

I got my kitty home, and she started dragging her bum again, and had a bit of something clean trailing her (possibly Vaseline, possibly some leftover fluid). I picked her up, and noticed that either they hadn’t done a very thorough job cleaning off the fluids they’d expressed, or there had been some more seepage. I cleaned that up, had Venus kinda freak out a bit about it (understandable when the last person that had been at her bum had been very very rude), and then headed over to the birthday dinner that I was quite late for (not mine).

I arrived when the cheque did, but had had a late lunch, so I wasn’t especially hungry. Later in the evening I ordered pizza. I’ll skip over this portion of the evening, since it was fairly uneventful, and I’m telling the epic tale of Venus’ Dragging Bum.

I got home again around 2, looked at Venus and she seemed okay, and went to bed. I was sleepy.

I woke up around 10 on Sunday, and was greeted solely by Thena. This isn’t usual – even if it’s not my alarm clock summoning the pair of them, they usually turn up and prance and demand attention when I’m in the washroom, especially Venus. It’s her domain, sometimes. After I finished up, I went looking for her, and found her once again hiding in the crawl space, though tucked behind the cabinets, so even less easily seen.

This time I moved the boxes out of the place entirely, semi-wedged myself into the back where she was, and she came out, dragging her bum. She was dirty again, so I trucked her into the bathroom to try to clean her up some more. She would tolerate it for a bit, then freak out, then tolerate it a bit, then freak out…I wasn’t trying too hard with the cloth, since I didn’t want to hurt or irritate her any more. I also grabbed the scissors to try to trim some of the dirty fur out, but she’d freak sometimes just as I was about to get the main source of the mess. In the end, I managed to do enough trimming so as to remove the mess, without doing too much more damage to her poor coat.

I let her go, and she headed into the living room. I opened her preferred window (because of the foot stool in front of it, she can reach up and peek out, or jump up onto the ledge and sit in it), and went and grabbed the brush I have to try to brush some of the spiked fur. She seemed to really enjoy it, contrasted with her usually attacking the brush, and I was able to do some serious brushing. At one point, she was standing on the stool and looking at the window, so I was able to even brush some of the fur around her bum. Her coat felt rather nice when I was done. :)

I went back into my bedroom to straighten out my sheets or something and discovered that she had messed on my bed, likely right beside where I was sleeping at one point (about chest-height). I can’t get mad at her for doing it, since she was sick, and this does beat her doing it someplace I won’t discover for months because it’s hidden away (which is common for cats to do – they hide when they’re sick, since it’s a sign of weakness to predators), plus I was up early on a Sunday with plenty of time to do laundry. So I did.

I also cooked up some chicken for Venus to eat in order to try to get her system back on track. The baby food I had in the fridge was not good anymore (or at least, I didn’t want to serve it to her), so that was all I set out, along with a tiny bit of wet food. I kept Thena outside most of the day so that she wouldn’t be poaching Venus’ food, and when I went to work, I kept Venus shut up in my bedroom with the dishes and a litter box. She spent much of the day, once I rousted her from the storage nook, hiding in my closet – so it meant that when Thena came in and patrolled, I was able to just close the door with the food inside, and Thena didn’t get any. She did, however, use the litter box a couple of times in order to assert her dominance – she can be a real jerk now and then. :)

Anyhow, I came home from work to find that Venus had eaten some of the chicken, and I was glad to see that. I let her wander around a little while I was on the computer, and got her some fresh chicken to dine on (the other had dried out a little). I shut us up in my bedroom and Thena stayed outside playing “toes under the door”, and Venus stayed just out of reach. Really funny to watch. She kept going over to her dishes and eating the chicken, and drinking water, so I was really pleased to see that. She also seemed more herself, though still a bit subdued.

I eventually went to bed around 1, and she went into the closet and started pawing at my laundry hamper. Since it’s made of plastic, this is a very very annoying noise, and it’s a habit she picked up from Thena. I put the laundry hamper up on the shelf, and got back into bed. She started meowing around 20 after 1, and jumped up on the bed for some cuddling, which I provided. Once she’d had enough, she headed back down to the floor to sleep there, I assume.

I let them wander together this morning, gave her more chicken, and once again shut her up while I was gone. I figure this way I can be assured that anything appearing in the litter box is hers, which allows me to better monitor when she’s back to normal, and it gives her some more time to rest and rejuvenate without those weighty political debates her and Thena engage in when I’m not around. She was meowing when I left, which lets me know she’s definitely feeling better – and not impressed with being shut up again. :)

Kitty story concluded.

So, there ya go, that was my obsession this weekend. In other news… the news guy from last week was being kinda flirtatious again this week, which is curious. I gave him a pseudo-hug as I was leaving, just from behind (kinda around his shoulders, and only one of my arms – definitely not what I’d consider a proper hug, but works well when you’re just joshing around). No idea what’s going on with that – boys are inexplicable.

However, this week I also had two dates with two different boys, and they both went fairly well – both of them expressed interest in repeating it, and one of them seemed to be showing through his body language that he liked me (standing close to me when we were waiting for the bus, asked for a kiss when I was nearing my stop, since it was his birthday). That boy and I went out Wednesday night, and he called me Friday while I was at N’s – I called him back Saturday afternoon, and we chatted for a bit before booking the next Friday for plans to be determined later. He then called me Sunday night to ask if I wanted to do something sooner in the week (in addition to Friday, it seems), and so we have a date for Tuesday, as well. Nothing has been set up yet with the other boy, but he did ask if I was interested in arranging a second date, and I said yes, so we’ll see when that takes place.

What else was exciting this week? Well, as I said before, I’m acting for my boss. So far that seems to be going okay – as far as I know, I have yet to screw anything up. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I’ll be able to put down that I have managerial experience on my resume, so that’s kinda cool now – it means that I might be able to apply for managerial positions down the road. I was actually offered the chance to apply for my boss’ position, which I turned down; I don’t want to have my name in too many competitions that I haven’t a hope in hell of actually winning.

Today has been a very quiet day. I’ve taken one media call, and now one wrong number. In a few minutes I’ll go deal with the media interview (taking notes while someone else goes through it), and then I’ll be leaving around 2:30 to head out to see my doctor. Given Venus’ improved state this morning, I don’t think she needs to go to the vet.

I had an odd moment this afternoon when I went down to get my can of pop for lunch. I was walking back from the cafeteria, heading towards the elevators, when I passed by a member of the custodial staff. I gave him a small smile, and as I passed him, I heard him say, fairly quietly, ‘T’es vraiment belle’ – which translates to, “you’re really pretty.” I kept walking a few steps before my brain processed what I’d heard, and I turned back and said a half-laughing, “Merci.” Then I came upstairs and shared the story with the admin staff, and we traded notes a bit on stories about boys. :)

I seem to have hills and valleys in my dating history. Apparently now I’m into a bit of a hill again, so this’ll likely continue through a few dates with the two boys, until it becomes a valley one more – or until I connect with one of them or someone new and go from there. Either that or boys are just teaming up to confuse me, as is their way. :)

Time to run… I’ll have rants about bra shopping and other subjects later, I’m sure.

If World War II was an RTS.

Top Ten Web Fads. Pretty cool, and I remember 'em all. :)

Updated the Whore's Boudoir. Play along at home, at work, or in your car!

From today's IMDB.com movie news:

"Jessica Simpson fears her new movie The Dukes Of Hazzard will flop because people see her as a singer and not a movie star. The pop sensation is one of a growing number of young stars following in the footsteps of icons like Madonna and Jennifer Lopez who want to conquer all aspects of the entertainment industry. Simpson plays sexy heroine Daisy Duke in the big screen adaptation of the cult series and desperately hopes there will be no critical backlash concerning her acting skills. She says, "I don't want people walking out of a movie thinking I was trying to act or be some movie star. I want them to think, 'That might make me like Jessica a little bit more.'" "

Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point to being in a movie -- as a major character and not just a cameo -- kinda maybe sorta to act and be a bloody movie star!?

Okay, so, is it bad to threaten to beat someone up on your first date with them? 'Cause I think I might've.

I'm pretty sure we're going out again, though, so it might be okay.

OMFG. My manager is on vacation from tomorrow until the 15th of August, and yesterday afternoon he told me that I would be acting for him during that time.

I'm now the "manager" of a guy who's probably at least 10 years my senior, and has way more experience in the agency and the government as a whole than I.

But I'm also going to a conference in September in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, so that's kinda cool. Who wants conference swag? :)

I promise to update soon.

Poor little website...

Sometimes I get mad at you.

You'll never know, since we don't speak, but sometimes... I get mad at you.

You can do so much more with yourself and your life.

You're smart, you're generous, you're nice, you sometimes have a good sense of humour... you have a good heart.

But you let your past so dictate your future, and I think that you could be happier. I really do.

I know, that happiness isn't going to be with me, and I accepted that a long time ago, but sometimes I still get mad at you. Not just for what happened or didn't happen between us, but because ... because you can do so much more.

But, who am I to say anything? I guess I just still care a little, much as I know I shouldn't. But at least I keep it to myself, right?

So, anyone who wants to help send me here, for my birthday, you're welcome to donate to the fund.

I promise lots of happy pictures and so on for those that help to contribute. Or something else exclusive that I can offer people for incentive!

*sobs* I know, I'm pathetic. But I started watching season 6 of Buffy again and my lust for James Marsters has been re-awakened. *cries* I'm sorry...

But I'm turning 25 this year! I need pity! And so on!

Okay, secretly I just need to lick James Marsters. You understand how it is.

I don't understand guys.

Have some fireworks.