37 Going On 90

I saw my new next door neighbour the other day. I had developed a bit of an initial hate-on for her as the first few days after she moved in she thoroughly and consistently annoyed the hell out of me by letting her front door slam shut in the early morn, all day and well into the night. Slam , slam, slam, slam, slam…and every time I jumped a foot in the air. I do not like loud and sudden noises and I just couldn’t understand why she didn’t hear and feel the shock waves every time that door flew shut. As suddenly as the slamming started it stopped a few days later. I now think it was either friends or relatives helping her move and unpack or somebody beat her ass down teaching her a much needed lesson. I am betting it was the former as it turns out she is a Professional Old Lady. You know one of those somewhat hunchback types who have carefully set blue hair and fancy coloured coats with matching hats. Basically she looks like The Queen. Outside her door she has a spiffy brass umbrella stand filled with several umbrellas. Probably one to match each of her hat/coat/hair combos. She also has fresh flowers in a nice pot which seem to die within 3 days since there is no natural light in the hallway. She is obviously very good at her profession and has been An Old Lady for quite some time. There is a lot I could learn from her.

I am going to re-enforce my Curmudgeonly Stinky Bum status by crapping on the obvious joy many people are experiencing over the upcoming The Police reunion. I admit I am not a huge fan of The Police but that is not why I think this is a very bad idea. I love The Rolling Stones but totally wish they would retire because it is getting a little embarrassing, frankly. Kinda like watching your parents dance to that new fangled Hippy Hoppy music. I think Mick looks like a caricature of himself is no longer even remotely rock and roll. More like sit and snooze. I loved them when they were young and nasty. Not wrinkly and arthritic. I find Sting fairly creepy (in a ‘He Is Old Enough To Be My Dad But Thinks He’s Sexy’ sort of way) and the horrifying contrast one will witness watching him sing songs he sang as a much younger lad promises to be sad and unsettling. There is something noble and wonderful about letting sleeping dogs lie (or letting aged pop singers lead tantric sex filled existences) and remembering the band the way they were at the height of careers. When they were sexy as hell, totally fashionably current and had all their hair. Band reunions or bands that just won’t go away are a recipe for disappointment. I am dumping on your pleasure for your own good.

Yoshi (presently named The Ungrateful Shit) has totally abandoned The Snoozen Housen. All of a sudden she will sleep ANYWHERE but there. Anywhere being the hard wood dining room chairs, awkward high traffic carpeted areas, where I like to sit and my lap any time I am still for more than 10 seconds. I have heard parents say that there is some sort of divine karmic irony where their children have the same annoying characteristics that they had themselves as kids causing them bitter regret but providing much glee to the grandparents. So I wonder if this is some sort of cosmic cat reckoning for my childhood behaviors and idiosyncrasies. Apparently being childless does not let me off the hook.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-More Vintage Yoshi

Back when Yoshi was less than a year old she used to get time outdoors to explore her inner beastie. This is her 'Fierce Feline at Rest' imitation.

Ring My Bell

I have one of those telephone numbers that results in a great deal of misdials connecting total strangers to my line. And an especially large amount of long distance wrong numbers at that. When I was given my phone number I thought it was going to be soooo great as it was very easy to remember as it consists of a repetition of a very simple series of numbers. Apparently this very same repetition of numbers is exactly what happens when somebody starts dialing and then loses his or her place and starts over again.

I literally get 2-4 wrong numbers every day.

As a result I have become somewhat of an expert on how one should not deal with the unfortunate realization that one has, indeed, dialed the wrong number.

1. Do not slam the phone down when you hear my greeting. Especially don’t do this if you have dialed me in the wee hours. I have call display and I am not above calling you back at an ungodly hour in the near future to return the favour.

2. Do not argue with me. I am not fucking with your brain. I have no hidden agenda. I would know that Steve does NOT live here. Trust me. I’d know. I’d probably smell him.

3. In reference to # 2. Seriously, I don’t care if this is the number Steve gave you and that you wrote it down right. STEVE DOES NOT LIVE HERE!!! Why would I lie? Stop smokin' the herb.
   

4. Almost as bad as #1 do not hang up the phone on me after I kindly and sweetly inform you of your misdial. It puts me in a grumpy mood and when I am grumpy EVERYBODY is grumpy. Somehow it will trickle down to you and you will pay.

5. Do not flirt. I am not going to meet you for coffee. I am not charmed by your spastic fingering that brought you to my world in the first place. Romance only starts this way in movies featuring Meg Ryan. In real life this is how serial killers find new fodder.

6. And NO! I am not cheating with your boyfriend. I am not answering his phone and then trying to cover my tracks. I live here and live here alone. Maybe you should address those trust issues in a more appropriate forum. Like an insane asylum.

7. Do not hang up and then immediately hit redial and then act surprised when you hear my slightly peevish voice again. I mean, DUH!

8. Do not just stay on the line after hearing that you misdialed and mouth breathe in my ear. Think on your own time, Neanderthal Boy.

9. Do not laugh manically when you discover that you have the wrong number. It is likely you have disturbed my very important TV watching or a much anticipated nap or, God help you, my blogging time. This is in no way funny, fucker.

10. OK…DUDE!!! No need to get pissed. I understand you are calling long distance but this whole thing is not my fault. I will not reimburse you. I don’t care.

If you have misdialed I highly recommend apologizing to your wrong number victim. Even a charming, “Ooops!” will suffice. Then say goodbye and hang up. So simple yet so rare. I wonder why.

Sadness...

A very sad time in my city’s recent history is prominently in the news today. This date marks the first day of the trial against Robert (Willie) Pickton who is charged with murdering 26 women at his pig farm in a nearby suburb. These women were for the most part living high risk lives of prostitution and/or drug use. As a result the fact that they were missing was not really acknowledged by the police for many years. The families are angry and our police force has been criticised a great deal over this issue. I can honestly see both sides in this situation. Most of these women were from the Downtown Eastside, Canada’s poorest neighbourhood. They lead dangerous and transient existences and I can understand why our already overtaxed police department were unable to dedicate a great deal of time to tracking down people reported missing who were perhaps not in regular touch with their families and not in a position, due to their lifestyle, where they really wanted to be found anyway. Yet I totally know that society in general doesn’t place the same importance on the rights and safety of women like these and as a result they are often pushed to the wayside and suffer for it. It is a lose/lose situation for everybody and that is further emphasized to me by today’s newscasts.

It has taken several years for the prosecutors to amass all the evidence needed to go to trial and during this time our media had to follow strict black-out regulations so the evidence wouldn’t be tainted and a jury could be successfully gathered. I believe that some information is still off limits but I heard details today I had only suspected in my worst nightmares. They found body parts in freezers. Human bones in manure piles. Boxes of victims’ clothing. They confirmed rumours that neighbours of this pig farmer were warned they may have received meat from him containing human remains. I have always heard that pigs eat anything and that appears how he disposed of many of the bodies. Truly horrific things to hear about.

At this point I believe there are over sixty missing women and Pickton admitted to an undercover cop he had killed 49 women. I doubt we will ever know the true figures. What they do forecast is this trial taking over a year to complete and that means more and more terrible details and further questions about how this could have happened. The TV news program I watch vowed to try to offset the horror of this situation by presenting a ‘feel good’ story every night. For this I am grateful.

My city, that I love, is one of shocking contrast. We are a place of beautiful people and locations. It is a place where evidence of the good life is all around you. It is very easy to get caught up that everything is perfect. A dangerous delusion. It is also a place with a terrible drug problem resulting in prostitution and crime and poverty. It is very easy to drive around and never see anything that might offend your senses but if you look closer or walk the streets you stumble upon people sleeping on the sidewalks or are approached by panhandlers looking for spare change. You can literally walk two blocks from expensive downtown stores to seedy hotels and rampant drug dealing. The line separating these two extremes is very, very thin.

I really don’t know how I can wrap all this up. What it all means. I guess I hope that people see how women living high risk lives can fall through the cracks and what that can mean. I hope people see that these women were daughters and moms and sisters and not just a product of how they lived their lives. I just hope that something good can come of all this sadness and negativity and horror we will be marinating in over the next several months.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-A Small Film For You

Click here.

Meaningless Mumblings of a Bored Person

So I am going to ‘fess up. Despite my plan to not watch any new TV shows thereby allowing the shows I do watch to slowly be cancelled thereby decreasing my TV watching thereby weaning me from TV entirely without any dangerous withdrawal symptoms I seem to be zoned out in front of the tube more than ever. Curioser and curioser. Then on top of this startling realization that goes against the laws of nature the ‘Moron Factor’ of my TV palate has increased as well. So I cannot even claim that the shows I do watch are redeemed by being educational. Unless you consider “Beauty and The Geek” fodder for the brain. What am I thinking?!? Oh wait! I’m NOT!

While maybe my time is not always spent on achieving higher knowledge I still manage to wonder about a lot of what I see while worshipping my glowing idol.

1. The Donald Trump and Rosie O’Donnell thing. Who thinks The Donald is coming across as a very uptight judgmental ass? I expect mockery and derision from Rosie as she is a very outspoken comedian and that is her job. I am shocked and horrified to hear such terrible personal attacks from The Talking Dollar Sign. Jay Leno and David Letterman spout off about The Trumpinator all the time as they do many other public figures without retaliation so why attack Rosie in such a nasty and ugly way? I can only think that she hit a major nerve. I wonder if it was the financial stuff or the moral compass observations. And then Mr. Hair goes and betrays Barbara Wawa’s confidence and drags her into the whole thing and compromises her work relationships and credibility. If I said something to a friend in confidence (IE-gossiping) I would be very pissed to hear it repeated on Entertainment Tonight. And if I never said those things to that friend in the first place that means that friend is a dirty filthy liar. Not a very pretty situation anyway you look at it. So, MC Moneybags, if you read this blog, you did not make yourself look any better being such a bitch. You came off as a very petty man. Yoshi wants to poop in your shoe.

2. Why is it that poker players are allowed to wear sunglasses during a professional poker tournament? If you give away your hand by the furtive or gloating look in your eyes then you are not a very good poker player in the first place. Isn’t this the whole point? Being able to bluff? This should not be allowed. It is cheating and looks stupid too.

3. Does anybody think it is funny (not the haha kind) that there is a media blitz going on about the media blitz surrounding Prince William’s girlfriend, Kate Middleton? There are shows and stories about shows and stories. Isn’t there some law of the universe where that should cancel out the whole shebang thereby leaving the poor girl alone? How bizarre that the media is comparing this whole situation to the media scrutiny of Princess Diana and how the media contributed to her death. Now that is some kind of conflict of interest.

4. Did anybody watch The Golden Globes last night? That is 3 hours we can never get back. Soooooo boring. Why do the winners go on and on thanking everybody including the exterminator they had in last week spraying their basement? So little humour. So little graciousness. It is just as many generally unknown names as they can possibly fit into their allotted time rambled off in a semi-apologetic and breathless manner. I was literally bitter and angry by the end. A bikini wax would have been more entertaining.

So there you go. Burning questions and outraged observations from a reluctant TV addict who doesn’t even watch The Apprentice, The View, Jay Leno, David Letterman, any type of poker tournament, any shows about royalty, and (except for last night) any sort of award show in general but still manages to hear all about the insidious subject matter above and form an opinion about it.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Sharing The Sickness & The Meanness

Most of you know I have a pervasive need to humiliate my cat by dressing her up in cute homemade costumes. You can see them here and here and here. I have to admit doing this makes me laugh in that creepy silent way which then turns into laugh-weeping and then total exhaustion. Highly satisfying and nap worthy.

This Halloween Spoonie asked me to make her two cats themed costumes. She promised me photos but she is super busy with an upcoming move and has abandoned her blog to binge drink. Fortunately for all of us I have photos of Yoshi in both costumes. She was the fit model.

Captain Bly



First Mate

Storm Snooze-Blogged In Real Time

Well, Holy Smokes. ANOTHER storm. ZZzzzzzzzzz...snort...wha?

I believe my area is presently being hit with storm number seventy bitchmillion. But this time we are all sitting up and taking notice. Or they are on the local news stations because they keep on breaking in to my precious TV watching announcing that, yes, we are experiencing another storm. Wind, rain and snow. ScanDAL!!!

In all honesty I am really not too worked up about it. I am taking a NIMBY ('‘not in my back yard'’ is what this stands for in case you didn'’t know. And by you I mean my dad, '‘cause he misuses this term all the time. Still love you though, dad.) approach to it all because while I have seen loads of news footage showing all sorts of my fellow city folk with trees through their roofs and no electricity for days nothing has happened to me. In all honesty I have slept through all of these horrific storms. Either I am very lucky or I have a personal force field. One thing for sure is that I am brutally insensitive to the plight of my fellow man.

Whatever.

Ok, so the scene is that apparently there is a big storm happening RIGHT THIS VERY SECOND. There have been winds clocked at 115 km per hour. That is about 71 miles per hour for you 'Merican folks. They have closed the Lion's Gate Bridge. Apparently more trees have fallen in Stanley Park. The weird thing is that I live only blocks from both the bridge and the park and I am looking out my window and the local trees are not even moving. We are talking dead calm here.

I don'’t get it. Overkill or my personal force field at work? Only God knows for sure. I will be blogging The Storm real time. Let the mayhem commence!

6:22-still no sign of any wind or rain. Will hang Yoshi from the balcony as a wind sock to be sure.

7:16-Yoshi lets a stinky fart fly. Must be the extreme change in air pressure. Oh wait...that is only in a hurricane...never mind.

9:25-still no wind except for the aforementioned tooting. Ordered in sustinance to avoid the crowds at the local stores. No looting as of yet but I have had my eye on this rocking vacuum cleaner in the local repair shop window. Hmmmmm...

12:13 am-Storm Snooze has lived up to its name. No wind. No rain. No snow. I'm going to bed.

UPDATE**THE NEXT DAY-Ok, ok, it snowed. So they were right about one thing. But I don't consider this a storm. I consider this snow. It is not a blizzard or anything. Just your garden variety frozen rain.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Compromise

Yoshi's New Snoozen Housen

I know parents must compromise their home decor sense to accommodate their kid's primary coloured plastic toys scattered all over the house. In my case it is a leopard velvet pod.

I Am Speechless

I am still feeling rather green from my new happy drugs so I am going to post a list. There are many paths along which people find their way to my blog. Here are some searches that lead people to me. Clearly there are some odd people out there and I am the worst offender since my blog is the only common denominator…

-supernatural sized boobs

-giant Toblerone asshole

-head smells like cheese

-swimming pool tampon

-Ativan for aggressive Siamese cats

-chemo drunk

-burning smell from condom

-homemade remedies for drying out limp (sic) nodes

-Yoshi with a penis

-stories of my mom said to touch her boobs

-perky tatas on flickr

-cat shit odour recipe soda

-how to tie sumo hair

-dad poos

-I think my cat is partially constipated

-my cat was eaten

-Wonder Woman only uses her farts

-Andie Macdowel nekkid

-butch shoes comfy

-enema fantasy

-God cured my panic attacks

-dominatrix beatings

-cleaning cat pee off leather jackets

-crabby girlfriend tips

-Von Stinky

And the most common search leading to my blog….

-cat crush video

Unfortunatley I don’t think these folks are looking for video of me gently squeezing Yoshi’s melon but actual footage where a cat is crushed and killed. YOU SICK FUCKERS!!!

As for the rest of you, I hope you found what you were looking for.

Planning For The Future

I didn’t think it could be possible but my New Years Eve was far mellower than even I could have expected. I know for certain there was more energy and hijinks flowing at the local senior home than at my place.

The Plan-

Me, the cat, an indecent amount of Chinese take-out, uplifting videos and a comfy couch…

The Reality-

Me, the cat, a commercial filled TV movie, a comfy couch and a whole lot of unpleasant side effects from the new antidepressant I started taking.

You see, in an effort to pick myself up emotionally after the whole cancer debacle I started a fancy new medication (Cipralex [or Lexapro for you US folks]) which has resulted in some pretty vile nausea and a general zoned out feeling. I am giving it some time and allowing my body to acclimatize but she be a bitch so far. My ass is being kicked thoroughly. Euphoria remains elusive.

So far 2007 is not EXACTLY what I expected but I am counting on things improving soon.

PS-I watched Erin Brockovich on TV and quite enjoyed watching the common folk sticking it to The Man.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Bye Bye 2006

In keeping with recent holiday tradition some electircal item of mine poops out right about now. Last year-my computer. This year-my digital camera. Fortunately I think it is covered under warranty.

So today I bring you one of the very first photos I ever posted of Yoshi. Well before anybody ever came to my blog. It is my most favourite picture of her and I think a good way to end the year of head crushing.

My Very Own Kelly Rippa Moment

I watched a bit of The Rachael Ray Show today. It is the first time I have ever seen it. Does it make me weird that the first thing that struck me was that after she walks towards the stage kitchen, shaking audience member's hands along the way, she gets right into cooking without washing up?

Ew.

Whatever Humbuggery Is Called After Christmas

I got through the holidays. Heavily tranquilized, mind you, but I got through. I am a Christmas Survivor. I can even say I had fun. A sorta overwhelmed fun in a sorta over stimulated way. You know when you live a hermit-style life and all of a sudden you are eating dinner with 8 other people? People who actually talk to you and expect a reply? That sort of fun. I interacted! Go me! You see, Yoshi does not talk back to me nor does she require a response from me, for the most part, so this whole social interaction thang (beyond yelling at the TV) really threw me for a loop. Clearly I have to get over my anxiety issues and get out more.

Not so fast! While I may have been temporarily infused with Christmas Spirit I quickly reverted to my former curmudgeonly ways almost immediately upon return to my home base.

Here is what has been pissing me off lately.

-Christmas commercials after the day is over. So wrong. Very very wrong.

-that whole recap of every fricking gory detail of what happened in 2006. Been there, DONE THAT ALREADY!!!! I want to look forward to good things in the new year.

-creepy neighbours. Today I went to get my mail in the lobby and this guy did not get on the first elevator so he could wait for me to get my mail and ride up with me instead. Fortunately another person got on with us and saved me from the inevitable discomfort when I would be forced to shut him down before he got too personal. The weird thing is that this is not a romantic interest as he is very obviously gay. He just seems overly nosey but in a creepy way. I do not know what his thing is.

-Boxing Day (or plain ol’ after Xmas) sales. Shopping insanity and huge line-ups to get into stores to buy more stuff. Mother of Crap! When is it ENOUGH stuff? When?

Today I did a totally curmudgeonly thing and called the cops on somebody whose car alarm was going non stop for about an hour outside my window. The cops came about 2 hours later, waited until the person came to their car and personally handed over a ticket. It was AWESOME!!!! I was overly gleeful about it as I had been slowly going insane over the whole afternoon. Only now are my shoulders starting to creep down from my ears.

I am once again planning my Annual New Years Eve Boycott. So yet again it will be me, Yoshi, an indecent amount of take-out food, DVDs, a warm blanket, my PJs and my couch. This year, due to my summer sushi food poisoning, I will be avoiding the raw fish and going with very yummy well cooked Chinese food instead. I would appreciate any suggestions for ‘feel good’ movies that I can watch. No negativity or gore. I want to start 2007 feeling happy.

Am I alone with my year end grumpiness? Anybody else out there looking forward to a fresh new year?

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Christmas Edition

Susie and Sharkey suggested we dress up our furry friends for the holidays and post the results on our blogs. You know I am only too happy to participate in this kind of perversion. Mwahahaha!


While I did not manage to send out physical Christmas cards this year I did throw together a virtual one. Yoshi and I also want to thank you for the love and support we have received from all of you in your lovely comments and emails. We hope you all have a wonderful holiday with those you love and we cannot wait to read about your celebrations.

Yes, both Yoshi and I read your blogs and then talk about you afterwards.

Still In One Piece-One VERY Itchy Piece

Update on The Healing

The Problem-

On Friday I suddenly started getting a very red rash all around my incision sites. It looked like an allergic rash to me but when I researched on The Internets the one condition that kept coming up was Flesh Eating Disease. Fabulous. Just the words one wants to hear with the weekend coming up and no doctors in sight. I kept an eye on it and while it did get worse it didn’t seem to be acting like it was eating my flesh. It was just very bumpy, dry and itchy. Then I started getting low grade fevers and stomach upset. I started worrying about infection of some sort but it just didn’t make sense. I could see one area getting infected but not two separate ones very far away from each other. Not to mention 3 weeks after the surgery when for the most part everything is all healed up.

The Diagnosis-

Possible allergic reaction to the glue/adhesive on the steri-strips used to close my incisions. I have never had a reaction before on my other 3 surgery sites but such is the life of me. I am well known for having bizarre and unprecedented side effects and health issues out of the blue like this. Hell, being diagnosed with breast cancer at 35 was pretty much the highlight of my medical cursedness. If it is rare it is going to affect me somewhere, somehow. In fact the head pharmacist of the local teaching hospital knows me by name due to some strange side effects I had to some very well established and otherwise benign medications a few years ago.

The Solution-

The doc ripped off all the steri-strips (totally painlessly unlike when I tried to do it myself the other day. OW!!!!) which revealed an even angrier red rash underneath in the exact shape of the tape. Hmmmmmm… I have been given a cortisone cream for it. I am still very itchy. If this cream doesn’t work I have an anti-fungus one in the wings. Yes, that is right. I might have a fungy titty. Thanks Santa!

11 More things About Me If you Don't Flee Immediately

Way back when I started my blog I posted 50 Things About Me and have never added to that since. Today I am going to change that with a further 11 Things About Me for a grand total of 61. What a magic number. I will update you soon about The Healing. I have experienced a bit of a setback and am unsure if it is minor or serious. I go to the doc tomorrow and hopefully will find out then. When I know, you’ll know.

A Further 11 Things About Me

51. I don’t drink coffee but am totally addicted to tea. I do not, when at home, drink my tea out of any old mug or cup. I have a plastic thermos type cup I ONLY drink out of. I like my cup best because it keeps the tea hot longer. I love my tea hot, hot hot!

52. For the most part I am a ‘live and let live’ kind of gal. I may not agree with something but I don’t react too strongly because I think it really doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things and that people are entitled to their own opinions, lives and personal tastes. However, there are a few things in the world that might be considered pretty innocuous by others that, well, make me fucking nuts. By fucking nuts I mean trigger such sudden and intense rage in me I can hardly contain myself.

-patchouli perfume. I know I have mentioned this before but I’ll tell it again. The smell of this stuff freaks me out. I HATE it. So much so that I almost transferred out of a college class because one of my classmates wore this scent. I moved to the polar opposite corner of the room and it turned out she didn’t wear it everyday. Thank GOD!

-whining and screaming kids. I cannot watch those nanny type reality shows on TV because when the kids throw fits my whole peace of mind is totally shattered. My stress level rises suddenly and violently and all I want is quiet right then and there. I avoid shopping on the weekends and in those types of stores where young children are likely to be because of this reaction. I literally want to run away. I love me some quiet and well behaved kids. Kids who shout and play don’t bother me. It is that tantrum screeching and horrible whining that freaks me out. Don’t worry. I am childless and have no plans to breed. This is a major reason why.

-that commercial on TV for Dr. Scholl’s Gel shoe inserts? You know it? When the character dialogue is so inane in order to rhyme with “gellin’”? “Hi! I am Helen and eat this melon. And by the way I am totally gellin’.” Oh fuck, this commercial makes me want to kill. I flip off (give it the finger…) the TV every time it is on and have to leave the room.

-certain politicians like George Bush or our Prime Minister Steven Harper or our Premier Gordon Campbell to name a few. All they have to do is come off as arrogant and unsympathetic then the hate-on begins.

53. I cannot dance. Like proper dance. You know. Waltz. Never had to. Never learned.

54. I cannot sing. Trust me.

55. I have not used a hair dryer since my hair grew back in after chemo.

56. I am totally against hunting but probably not for the reasons you’d think. It is not because I am a vegetarian. It is because it is totally unfair. I don’t understand why somebody would be proud and excited after shooting some poor animal when they used a gun or bow, probably with a scope, and were wearing camouflage and were using scents or special whistles not to mention possibly using a dog for their heightened senses. Jeeez, how could you NOT kill an animal that way? Now if you were naked and you hunted down and killed some animal with your bare hands then I would be totally fine with it. It only seems right.

57. I have been in a hot air balloon. It was cool.

58. I’ve had the same cell phone for the last 5 years. I am just not that into technology for the sake of technology and wouldn’t upgrade unless my old phone broke or something. It just seems wasteful to me. I have never text messaged either.

59. I have a box of Kleenex in every room of my apartment because I have a constant runny nose. Very grandmotherly of me.

60. My legs are always itchy. I keep a hairbrush next to my bed so I can give them a good scratch. They seem to be itchiest when I am tired. I have no idea why.

61. I love Wonder Woman and Hello Kitty. I can’t say I have official collections but I do have a fair amount of their stuff. Probably more than a grown-up should.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Saturday Edition

Preshus Kitten Yoshi in the Shunshine.

And my deepest apologies to Blogger because the fault was all mine with the photo posting thang. The file was too big.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Technical Difficulties-Please Stand By

Blogger won't let me post a photo!! BAAAAASTAAAAARDS!

I'll have a crushing photo up as soon as I can.

The Christmas Cookie Exchange - TOTALLY Cookie Free

Susie is hosting a fabulous party at her place and she asked us some probing holiday questions.

Favourite holiday recipes-

Ok. I am in an enviable position where I don’t do any cooking at all for Christmas. My mom does it all. I think this is a combination of the fact that I am single, I haven’t had much of a kitchen let alone a dining room for several years and that I am a lousy cook. I cannot even fathom organizing a food extravaganza on the level that my mom does every Christmas season. Honestly I can hardly manage to feed myself the rest of the year. Being vegetarian I have no clue how to cook meat. While I enjoy Christmas dinner I would be just as happy with a pizza or sandwich. (Don't kill me mom!) Anyway, so I just show up and eat and leave.

Special Traditions-

Once again I have to be the party pooper and say that my family doesn’t really have any hard and fast traditions. Some come and some go over time. Here are a few things that have been traditions in the past or are still going on for now-

-My mom rarely cooks a turkey for Christmas. We have beef. Or everybody else has beef. I don’t eat meat. It might be a roast or a Wellington but it is never a bird.

-I’d say over the last decade my mom has made rumballs and Christmas cake. I love the rumballs and usually eat more than my fair share but hate the cake. This is good for my dad as it is his favourite and he doesn’t have to share.

-Probably the only one real tradition I can think of is that my dad gets Christmas pudding with hard sauce for Christmas dessert. It is a British thing. And every year the rest of us have a different dessert of some kind because we think pudding and hard sauce is nasty.

-For several years I used a bowling trophy for a tree topper. I was poor and it seemed sparkly and festive so up it went. I now have a smaller fake tree and the trophy is too big. I still have it just in case I go ‘big tree’ again.

-My parents used to give my brother and me a giant Toblerone bar in our stocking. We have asked to end that tradition as we no longer have youthful metabolisms to process such a vast amount of chocolate.

-As kids my brother and I never really left cookies and milk for Santa because we lived in an apartment and didn’t have a fireplace for stockings etc. My dad used to say Santa came in through the key hole.

-We open our gifts Christmas morning and as kids my brother and I were allowed to open our stocking first (usually at the crack of dawn) while my parents woke up and got coffee ready. Then we would open gifts together as a family.

-My brother and parents often go for a walk after breakfast and gift opening. I stay behind and have a nap.

-I am so boring you (and myself) with these totally lame so-called traditions….

Favourite Gift to Give-

-once again I have to be the bah humbugger. Over the last several years the giving of family gifts has been fairly lacking in total surprise as we give each other lists of what we need. We try to give gifts that are useful and needed. As a result there are not a lot of fanciful or extraneous presents. For me, I love giving a gift that was very desperately wanted. Whatever that might be any given year.

What You Wear When You Don Your Gay Apparel-

-Oh jeeeez….we used to get dressed up for Christmas but now it is jeans and a shirt. Typically my parents are more dressed up than my brother and I.

How boring are we? But at least we are boring together.