A Cancer Rant With No Real Point

I ran into my next door neighbour in the hallway last night and had a wee chat. She is always very interested in my health but in a way I find somewhat alarming. Like last night she asked how I was feeling. I said, “Really good, thanks.” To which she then asked, “No re-occurrence yet?” Yes, meaning she had indeed casually enquired as to whether my cancer had returned yet.

Fabulous!

My answer? “Nooooooo…well, not that we know of.”

I mean, jeeeeez...

I usually take most of these kind of interactions in stride because for the most part I believe folks who ask probing (albeit inappropriate) questions and offer unsolicited advice really mean well. I’d like to think that it just comes out wrong sometimes. Sometimes VERY wrong.

I’ve mentioned that I have an in-law who has dealt with breast cancer under vastly different circumstances than me who has in the past declared that as long as I have a positive attitude I will be just fine. I truly agree with the spirit of her statement but really LOATHE how simplistic and, frankly Pollyannaish it sounds. I’ve had relatives who have died of cancer who had fantastic attitudes. I’ve also heard stories of people who were convinced they were going to die from cancer and then totally recovered. Obviously keeping a positive attitude isn’t the whole story of cancer recovery. The fact is that, yes, having a positive attitude can help you get through the vast mountains of shit you have to go through with cancer treatment but feeling tip top all the time just isn’t possible and no one should ever feel guilty about having a bad day, or days for that matter. There are times when you are convinced you are going to die or you feel like you cannot take one more second of the physical and mental tolls. Days where you hate that you are dependant on others and that this stupid disease has not only royally fucked up your life, even temporarily, but has also affected the lives of those you love. Nobody facing a terminal cancer diagnosis should ever be made to feel that they were not positive enough to cure themselves. In fact I would say that (in my opinion) if I met someone who didn’t have a bad day or twenty going through treatment I’d be pretty sure there was some serious denial of some pretty heavy duty feelings going on. And I believe that is more dangerous than being true to yourself and how you feel.

Ok-so thankfully my neighbour didn’t get into the whole attitude thing this time around but she did get into what I call the Uninformed Shoulds. This is when people tell you what you SHOULD be doing spewing off info they heard from their aunt or from the internet or some other Oracle of Extreme Truth. Once again I know this comes from a good place and I appreciate the sentiments but it can be trying at times.

My neighbour asked me if I was going to return to work in the film industry as things were busy and there was work to be had. I said that I didn’t think I would be up to doing that job again in the future. I mentioned that 18 hours days were no longer appealing as well as the fact I have had so much surgery on my right side I couldn’t do the heavy duty lifting or driving required. I didn’t get into the fact that my reluctance to return to the film industry is actually more an unwillingness to devote 100% of my waking moments to dealing with insane costume designers, needy actors, miscellaneous crew and other so-called creative folks. Honestly after this whole cancer debacle I just want to do something I enjoy and that is fulfilling. Washing strangers’ underwear, hemming pants and sitting in some desolate parking lot watching the sun come up and freezing my ass off while the director yells, “CUT!” one…more…time…no longer inspires me. Call me greedy but I want more.

Anyway, my neighbour told me that I should go to the local Yuppie Uber Trendy Hellishly Expensive Health Food Grocery Store and have them set up a vitamin regimen for me to detoxify my body from all the cancer drugs. I just hmmm’ed at this because I talked to my doctor about this very same concept and she replied that I could do that if I wanted but that it would really only take time, a good diet and exercise to get my body back to where it once was. She said that we North Americans have some of the most expensive urine in the world with all the stuff we take under the guise of healthiness. So when people say I SHOULD go and drop hundreds of dollars that I don’t have on the advice of somebody who knows nothing about my health situation or history I don’t get mad. I just remind myself of this pertinent question. Who do I listen to? The hippy at the health food store or my medically trained oncologist who works at one of the most well respected cancer treatment centers in the world?

I know there are a lot of people out there that feel that the drug companies and the medical establishment are out to dupe us all and that curing cancer is simply a matter of cutting out sugar or juicing organic foods. I totally agree that when there is medical treatment for profit that maybe things get out of whack and priorities get skewed but in Canada things are different. Our medical treatment is covered by the government so there isn’t the profit angle that there is in the US. Drug costs are regulated. The majority of medical research up here is done by hospitals and universities. You’d think that if things were that simple somebody would have let the cat out of the bag in some socialist first world country like Canada or the UK or France. I am all for a good conspiracy and am probably more suspicious than the average guy but I wonder how many drug company CEO’s or medical establishment members would thwart revealing an existing cancer cure when chances are they or their spouse or their kids will get cancer. 1 in 3 people will get cancer in their lifetimes. It doesn’t make sense.

Obviously there a balance to be struck between alternative health practices and western medicine. There ARE naturopathic things that can be helpful in treating cancer that compliment modern technology and I believe the cancer agency I am treated at offers a good mix of both. Along with my chemotherapy and radiation I was offered therapeutic touch, shiatsu massage, acupressure, acupuncture, yoga, fitness counseling, nutritional counseling, medical marijuana pills, individual counseling, and other types of supportive care. What I was strictly forbidden to do was to take herbal supplements or vitamins while under treatment as they could have interacted with my chemotherapy causing negative symptoms and even decreased the effectiveness of my treatment. So those helpful folks who are friends, relatives or just work at the vitamin store could, in their ignorance, cause you serious harm.

*start foreboding music*

I have an interesting story to tell that happened to me before I was diagnosed with cancer and started my blog that illustrates this issue. I’ll post about it on Monday.

And my point? Maybe I’ll figure one out by Monday as well.

Birthday Girlzzzzzzzz

This Saturday was Yoshi’s birthday. She is 9 years old. In my typical chemo-brain fashion I was awake for about 30 minutes and totally forgot it was her special day until my mom called to congratulate her feline grandchild. I assured Yoshi it was nothing personal as I had forgotten my own birthday as well.

Shopping for Yoshi Gifties is always hard as in typical Siamese fashion she hates pretty much everything. She hates cat treats. She hates all fresh, frozen or canned seafood except the oh-so-pedestrian tuna. I think she’d probably eat roast beast or pork or chicken if I’d feed it to her off my plate. Only problem with that is with me being vegetarian the only thing she’ll get off my plate is broccoli and that plain ol’ sucks ass. Even for me.

She doesn’t play with most cat toys preferring twist ties, q-tips and scotch tape. Cheap for me but not the most festive thing to gift wrap.

I mentioned recently that after a promising start she has abandoned the snoozen housen. Instead she remains enamored with the crappy old throw blanket I have folded on my chair. This thing is ok to look at but not very comfortable for humans in its taffeta slippery coolness. Strangely Yoshi loves it. I wash it often and each time I take it out of the dryer it has frayed along some seam requiring extensive hand sewing. I suspect its lifespan is nearing its end.

A Demonic Burrito

So I once again compromised my clean lined minimalist esthetics and purchased yet another leopard pimp-o-licious sleeping apparatus. The things I do for this cat, I tell ya.

I bring to you the Snoozen Tuben.

Coming up for air.

I thought its small snug composition would appeal to a cat who loves sleeping well covered under blankets. Let’s hope it works.

Happy Birthday Smellie Cat. I love you.

Snuggly but deadly.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-It's a Dog's Life Edition

I am thrilled to announce that Lulu has found a FANTASTIC forever home. When my friends, her foster mom and dad, saw her profile go back up on the rescue shelter website they realized they couldn't bear the thought of perhaps never seeing her again. Discussions ensued and they decided they couldn't let her go and that she has been where she really belonged all along. Lulu managed to meld into their family seamlessly. Clever girl! And I get to be The Benevolent Auntie any time I want. I've even received keys to their apartment so I can visit any time. It really doesn't get any better than this!

Snoozing with her new brother, Winston, who is obviously far more well adjusted than some other cat we know...*coughyoshicough*

Sharing couch time with her new sister, Xiola.


Getting her sea legs.


She and Xiola have become extremely close. My friend has been seeing special loving behavior from Xiola that she has never EVER seen her display towards any other of her doggy buddies. Lulu has developed so much self confidence being in Xiola's company. She is learning to trust and dig holes and play fight and be a lovely well rounded dog from her new best friend.


*brushing tears from my eyes* They are inseparable.


Here is Lulu looking forward to a bright future.

I know without a doubt that Lulu's life couldn't be any better.

Angst Is The New Black

Well…what do you know? It seems I have found myself right in the middle of a real live ker'fuffle. Boy-oh-boy, you have no idea what my day has been like.

It appears that The Jilted Adopters I posted about yesterday Googled my name and/or Lulu’s name and found my blog. Heeee! And of course the first thing I thought was, “Excellent!! Well I know what I’ll be blogging about tonight.” They read what I wrote about them and were very upset. So upset that they tattled about my blog to my friend who is fostering Lulu and the nice lady who runs the rescue shelter. Well, my friend reads me regularly and nothing I write surprises her anymore. I don’t know what The Nice Rescue Lady thought about this collection of my incoherent ramblings but she still stands behind me and my decision. I have always strictly adhered to a policy of never writing anything on my blog that I wouldn’t be 100% comfortable saying to anybody’s face and saying that I still firmly stand behind yesterday’s post.

I know they are upset. I know there were reasons why what happened happened. I know they are mad at me. I’d be mad at me too if I was in their shoes. I really would. I have no problem with their anger. It doesn’t bother me. None of that ultimately matters to me because for me all this has not been about emotions and whose feelings got hurt. It has been about getting Lulu into a fantastic home ASAP.

So, yes, they are upset and I’m told that they don’t feel that they have been given the opportunity to state their side of the story. Well, this is my blog for my opinions and if they want to start their own blog for theirs then they should. In fact I’d happily link to it. I have some blog domain name ideas for them. How about wehateherass.com or krankiisafuckinglyingwhorelady.com. I have absolutely nothing to hide. Seriously. I’ve always been open to finding out why things went wrong? You see, as well as finking about my blog they have also been sending detailed emails to my friend and The Nice Rescue Lady outlining in gory detail how I did them wrong. So while everybody else seems to be in the know about their side of the story they have never actually taken up their issues about me with me. I’ve not received copies of any of their complaints. And I can’t approach them as I was ordered by the husband in his nasty email to “NEVER” contact them again. Which I haven’t.

Here’s the thing. While I don’t have any copies in my possession of any of these emails they sent to other people about me I have been told a few particular items of interest. Now let me assure everybody that I would never have lightly or foolishly blogged about my experience if I didn’t follow some ground rules. I never identified anybody by name. I never identified anybody’s occupations or places of work. There is absolutely no way my silly little opinion, as misguided as it apparently is, could ever be traced to any particular person or people. And in addition to that I never said anything about the situation that I couldn’t back-up and prove outright with emails I sent and received. I could even promise that if it came to anything ugly phone records would prove my position as well. No, not the content of conversations but whether phone conversations ever took place. I hate to be cryptic here and I won’t get too detailed. He will know what I mean. How CSI, huh?

Hearing certain negative assertions about my conduct and how I supposedly threatened, harassed and pestered them that I know are blatantly untrue and can be totally disproved by the information I have in my possession only makes me laugh even harder. Like I am talking REALLY hard here. Like there is even milk coming out of my nose.

So on the off chance you guys are reading this *waves hello* please feel free to comment and/or post a link if you’d like to state your side of the story. From the very beginning all I ever wanted was to hear from you and be updated and kept abreast of your situation. But I warn you, please be very careful what you accuse me of. I, in all seriousness, suggest you go over the emails I sent and you sent and be very sure of what you are going to say about me in writing to post on the internet. I say this because if there are any untruths I will not hesitate to set the record straight.

I’ll say it one more time. I’ve kept every single email.

PS-I'll tell you all some good news tomorrow.

Nasty! Don't Mean a Thing!

In the two years I’ve been writing my blog I’ve never received an icky comment or shitty email. Everybody has been nothing but lovely, supportive and kind. So YAY! and Thank You! and all that because I think that kind of bad stuff, in large enough doses, could really get to a person after a while.

So imagine my surprise when a rather nasty email arrived in my inbox today. Not from a fellow blogger or internet troll but from the person who had been chosen to adopt Lulu.

I have spent the last week and an half fielding several emails per day from people who were eager and excited about the prospect of bringing Lulu into their homes. The rescue shelter where I adopted her from had very strict criteria to meet so most of these applicants were rejected. Friends of my friend who is fostering Lulu at the moment expressed interest and we encouraged them to apply to adopt Lulu. They did and the rescue shelter lady wasn’t sure they were the right match but my friend and I raved about them and promised that they’d be perfect. Against her better judgment she agreed to the adoption saying she trusted us.

And then the slow decline into hell began. The husband of the couple who seemed to be the spokesperson of the two was not the slightest bit excited when I called to let them know they had been accepted to adopt Lulu. In fact he brushed me off saying he’d call later and then didn’t. I emailed him asking for a date/timeline/ball-park estimate as to when they wanted to take Lulu with no reply. I asked for any kind of information at all about their intentions and got no reply. He did venture to say he wanted to take Lulu for the day to introduce her to their cat and then didn’t make arrangements to pick her up or even contact me to let me know what was happening. A complete no-show.

Well…I sent a very nice email expressing my concerns that there seemed to be some sort of disconnect and that I was not getting the information I needed to get them and Lulu together. I explained my obligations towards the rescue shelter and my responsibilities towards Lulu. I outlined how the payment of the adoption fee would work depending on how the adoption was arranged; immediate pick up or slow introduction into their home. I asked them to give me their thoughts and wishes so we could work together to get Lulu happy and settled.

I got no reply.

So I cancelled the adoption.

And when I emailed to tell them so I wasn’t so nice anymore. I certainly wasn’t rude but I made VERY clear the reasons why I was not going to adopt Lulu to them and nothing was sugar coated. I questioned why they had applied for Lulu in the first place. I explained what they should have done and what they didn’t do. I outlined the circumstances of their application and how my friend and I had stuck our necks out to get them accepted. I told them what an embarrassing and awkward situation they had put us in with the shelter. I said they owed my friend an apology as she had advocated for them very strongly and they let her down. I said they had let Lulu down as well.

Ok-maybe not the kind of email one wants to get but there were no profanities. No personal attacks. Just the irrefutable facts of the matter, my side of the situation and the predicament I was now in. Hell, I have the whole adoption exchange on email and words don’t lie! They totally blew me off.

And that is when the husband sent me the nasty email. It was personal, it was low, it was petty and it contained a very blatant lie. A horrible ass covering desperate lie. A lie that one shouldn’t commit to paper and send out into the world because it is gonna come back and bite you on that ass you are trying to protect.

Remember, I have all the emails...

The best part was that this nasty email was also really funny. I laughed out loud when I read it.

A couple years ago this email would have devastated me. I would have been agonizing that they didn’t liiiike meeee or that it was unnnnfaaaiiiirr. Not now. All those happy pills and hours of therapy have done the trick. And the best part is that a year of picking apart all my idiosyncrasies and issues with a therapist has given me the knowledge and insight to be able to pick apart the mental freakiness of others. And let me tell you this email was filled with all sorts of very interesting and telling things to pick apart. Veeeeery interesting. And that made it all the funnier.

Growing up so rocks.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-She's Baaaack

Top Dog Again

Plan B for Total BUMMER

Um…let’s just say I have been dreading writing this post. It has not been the best week and nothing happened the way I had hoped and, frankly, the way it was supposed to, DAMMIT.

Nothing at all.

Lulu did not work out. Or maybe I should rephrase that. Lulu worked out great. Yoshi stopped working all together.

Yoshi had, what I believe to be, a total feline nervous breakdown.

Now I know what many of you are thinking. Kranki, you total DUMBASS!!! Didn’t you think ahead about this? Didn’t you think this might happen?

I have to be honest with you. I thought about this a great deal and I thought up a whole bunch worse case scenarios but never dreamed what actually happened would happen. It never occurred to me. Obviously, if it had entered my mind I never would have brought a dog into my home. I'd seen Yoshi around dogs but obviously none had ever stayed for a sleepover.

This is what I imagined might happen with Yoshi:

-hissing
-growling
-yowling
-spitting
-swiping with paws-nails extended-possible bloodshed
-retaliatory peeing or pooping in favourite shoes/on bed/on dining room table
-moody self absorption and angst
-shunning of mommy love
-acting out and general bad behavior

What actually occurred with Yoshi:

-hissing
-growling
-yowling
-spitting
-swiping with paws-uncertain of nail position
-shunning of momma love
-COMPLETE CESSATION OF EATING FOR 4 DAYS!!
-COMPLETE CESSATION OF WATER CONSUMPTION FOR 4 DAYS!!
-PERSISTENT VOMITING LEADING TO TOTAL DEHYDRATION!!
-RIPPING OUT OF OWN FUR!!
-BITING WHEN TOUCHED!!!
-NO LONGER CLEANING HERSELF!!

By the time Thursday came along Yoshi was noticeably thinner, completely dehydrated, too weak to jump out of the dog’s reach, listless and looking really rough. I thought I’d have to take her to the vet which would have freaked her even more. It was really terrible.

I talked with a friend of mine who, while not a vet, bred and showed Persian cats for years as well as ran a boarding cattery. She said that all the above behaviors were not dangerous except for the vomiting part. Dehydration is very dangerous. Yoshi was barfing several times a day and I just didn’t know where it was all coming from because her food was completely untouched. She suggested I take Yoshi to the vet and get her put on tranqs. Another friend mentioned Prozac. The lady at the shelter where I got Lulu said I should just keep the cat in my bedroom from now on.

None of these were an option because until I brought a dog into the house Yoshi was perfectly fine. A little insane, yes, but overall quite fine. This was not her fault in any way and I wasn’t going to make her pay for my mistake. And it wasn’t Lulu’s either as she had been a perfect citizen in my home all along.

This was all my fault. And I felt like shit and continue to do so.

So that Thursday I took Lulu to my friend’s house who not only has a dog of her own but also dog-sits another small dog everyday. Yoshi started drinking later that day and started cleaning herself which I thought was a good sign. She continues to be super jumpy with any sudden movements or sudden noises. She no longer meets me at the door when I come home because she is afraid there might be a dog attached to me. She is eating roughly twice her usual amount and is putting weight back on again. She is doing fine.

Lulu is having a blast at my friend’s house. She is way more outgoing, happy and is very much in love with my friend’s dog. The shelter where I got Lulu is working to re-home her up here in Vancouver and I am helping with that. They are not angry with me as when I adopted Lulu I voiced my concerns about how Yoshi would cope and they were happy to give me a trial period to see what would happen. They just want the best home for Lulu too and obviously my home is not the right one.

But I REALLY wish it was because I just LOVE that dog.

So while I often sit and think about ways I could make it work I know deep down it isn’t going to. Maybe if I had a much bigger place where I could give one level to the cat and one to the dog it might be ok. But I don’t. I have a small apartment and we all have to live together.

So I fucked up. I made a huge mistake. I know, I know…I suck.

The Cutest and Sweetest Dog EVER!!!

The Jerk and Her Death Stare of Doggy Hatred

Operation Dog Adopter went off without a hitch. I present to you…LULU!!!!

THE EARS!!!!

This dog is the most mellow and sweet dog I have ever met. There is yet to be any barking and she is most happy sleeping. She is about 1 1/2 years old and we figure there is Chihuahua, Dachshund and maybe some Jack Russell in her. Poor thing was relegated to an outdoor kennel with her brother in her previous life so doesn’t really know how to walk on a leash or even sit. She doesn’t even know the word, “Treat!” However, she can play a mean game of fetch. When returning with the ball she often stops halfway and “dribbles” the ball between her front paws until she reaches you. So far she has been very intuitive about what I want her to do. She leaves the cat alone and has started playing with her toys and sleeping in her crate even though she didn’t show much interest in them yesterday. She used to eat out of a communal food bowl at the shelter so now she delicately takes a few pieces of kibble in her mouth and carries them to the dining room about 4 feet away where she eats them. I guess she didn’t like the insanity of the feeding frenzy and developed a peaceful way to eat. She has a little nick out of one of her ears due to getting frostbite in the sad unheated kennel in her old life. Every time I see it I get livid. Poor thing. She is also somewhat underweight. Despite her lonely life so far she is very submissive and eager to please. She loves to snuggle up and prop her head on my lap for snoozes. She is shy around new people but warms up almost instantly with some petting and scratches behind the ears. She is also a little nervous in the elevator and sits right between my feet for comfort. So far she is a lovely pooch.

The Very First Meeting

Cuddles

And Kisses

And how is Yoshi doing? Well…yesterday she acted scared and curious. Her tail was often fluffy but she circled Lulu like a shark trying to figure out what was going on. This behavior has now turned into outright hostility and Yoshi howls, growls and yeowls along with lots of hissing whenever the dog so much as looks at her. Yet she doesn’t seem scared. She just seems pissed now. But not pissed enough to not eat all the tuna I am feeding her or not watch the dog incessantly or not play with her Q-tips.

Lulu The Angel-By Michelle Davidson (who came with me on the adoption trip)

Right now Yoshi is in her Snoozen Housen while Lulu is in her Lulu Housen. So yes, I feel guilty as hell about Yoshi but it has been less than 24 hours and so far no bloodshed or poop gifties in my shoes. I think it’ll work out just fine.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Ch-ch-changes...

Enjoying her last couple days as The Only Child.

Poochie Lulu

Well, today is my birthday. I am 38 years old. And a scary indication of how old I am getting is that I forgot for about the first 30 minutes of the day that it was anything but a boring old Thursday. Forgetting my phone number and sitting in McDonalds nursing a single coffee for 6 hours is surely not far behind.

I spent my day primarily on the road running errands. Not just boring old errands like picking up dry cleaning or buying oven cleaner. We are talking about fun errands like buying rubber and squeaky toys and wildly trendy and appropriately expensive puppy-yuppy supplies for my soon to arrive new urban pooch.

Nine years ago I was given a fabulous gift for my birthday. I got Yoshi. Not actually on the day but a few months later once she had got her shit together and was born and weaned. I think it was mid May when I brought her home. And I have been firmly under her paw ever since.

So on Sunday I am driving down to Washington State to pick up Lulu. My birthday gift to myself. She is a whole lot of something including possibly dachshund and who knows what else. Frankly, she looks like she has been assembled from spare dog parts.

I love her already.

Wildly emotional and excessively soppy photo essay to come on Monday.

Meh...

*BIG SIGH*

Sorry about missing Crush Your Cat’s Head Friday but it was such a dark and dreary day and every photo I took of Yoshi looked terrible. Then she started getting really cranky because apparently the only thing worse than getting her picture taken is getting her picture taken multiple times with a flash. Plain and simple I gave up. I feared for my life.

The Doggy Adoption Saga continues. I sent in an adoption application to a rescue shelter in Yakima, Washington which was accepted. Yay! But then the dog I wanted to adopt was adopted by someone else mere hours before I applied. Boooooo! Then I found out that dog had a brother who was very cute in a troll-like sort of way and he was available to adopt. Yay! Then I got a phone call today from the nice lady who runs the adoption shelter and she said she wasn’t quite sure Norm, the Troll Dog, was quite right for me. Apparently he really likes to mark his territory and she knows I rent my very small apartment and that might not be too cool. Booooo! But then she said she had a couple other dogs that might interest me and I could see them when I came to see Norm. Yay! Then the weather has become quite snowy at the higher levels and the 10+ hour round trip involves driving over a high mountain pass. I doubt I could make it without a 4-wheel drive vehicle or at all with all the snow storms going on. Boooo!!

So….no dog…and no idea when it might happen.

Final rating: BOOOOOOO!!!

Poochless in Seattle

Pooch Watch 2007 has started with a whimper. I did not get the sweet dog I applied to adopt. It was a long shot but I had very much hoped I would be chosen. There are several things going against me as far as being a future dog owner.

First of all there are literally next to zero small dogs for adoption within a 100 mile radius of my city. While this is very good news showing that dog parents are living up to the responsibilities of their charges it means I am shit out of luck for a simple and easy adoption scenario. I called a nearby shelter today and they told me they hadn’t had a small dog for adoption in over a year. Mind you if I wanted a Rottie or a Pitt Bull there are hundreds of them available. However, I am smart enough to know they are too much dog for me.

I have to break here for a 'mo and tell you about the one single small dog available for adoption in a nearby city. It is a Yorkie that was picked up wandering the streets of L.A. He has no teeth, a bad heart, bad kidneys, incontinence, and only one eye. ONE EYE!!!! Doesn’t this story sound like a Quentin Tarantino movie? Seriously. Holy crap!

Ok, back to my whinge.

Another strike against me is that I live in an apartment and people with fenced yards always get priority in dog adoptions. This is very unfair as I live in a fabulous dog friendly neighbourhood surrounded by parks and trails in the woods. I also have a very large and secure roof garden for off leash fetch sessions. There is an off leash beach and park a 10 minute drive away. My building is exceptionally dog friendly with, I estimate, 40%-50% of tenants owning at least one dog. I was talking with a neighbour who said she tried to adopt a dog for several months and finally gave up and bought one. She loves her dog but thought it was crazy she was passed over due to the yard situation. Honestly, I think it can work out better for a dog because the fact that we live in an apartment and have to physically take a dog out for bathroom duties it ensures they get more productive walks versus a person who just lets a dog out into a yard to do its thing without any kind of interaction. I’m just saying…

So I looked in a couple of local papers for what sounded like reputable breeders and found that mixed breed small dogs cost about $1500 to buy while pure breeds cost about $3000. Well, that kind of purchase is not going to happen for me any time soon. Initially I thought that this range of prices would probably deter emotional and unsuitable purchasers which was a good thing for dogs in general but changed my mind when I saw how many pure bred large dogs are in shelters. We all know people often have more money than sense.

So I am being steered toward out-of-country adoption such as a lot of prospective parents do for non-furry children. Sadly, the US has loads of small dogs in shelters and rescues. In fact the sweet dog I applied for was located in Seattle, a 3-4 hour drive away. There are problems with this as well. Many rescue shelters do not adopt out to out-of-state or country applicants because doing home checks and after adoption checks are so time consuming and expensive. I can totally understand this but with the small dog shortage here they are missing out on a huge group of willing adopters. I have decided that if I do manage to adopt a dog from Washington State I will volunteer to perform home-checks for them in my area so they can facilitate more adoptions up here.

But saying that it can still be quite expensive to adopt a shelter or rescue dog from the US since they often charge adoption fees as high as $500. Take in account the exchange rate to Canadian funds along with at least two trips across the border using a few tanks of gas on top of all the supplies ones needs to get and obedience classes and a vet check needless to say it can get very pricey.

Now I know what a lot of you are saying. If I can’t afford to shell out aprox $1000 for a dog then I probably shouldn’t get one. Believe me I have taken that into consideration and totally understand this point of view. The fact is I can (with some recent lifestyle adjustments) afford supplies for a dog as well as a reasonable adoption fee. I can afford pet health insurance so I don’t have to worry about large vet bills and I can certainly afford food and an obedience class or two. What I don’t have is a huge lump sum to hand out all at once.

So the plan is this. I will continue to check local and US adoption sites on the internet and by phone. I will continue to contribute to my Poochum Fund so I can afford a higher adoption fee as the funds grow over the next few months. I will continue to be open to the whole process and see what comes my way. But I now realize I will have to be more patient. Waaaaayyyy more patient.

So thank you, Universe, for once again placing me in a situation where I become brutally aware of how grossly impatient I am. I’m working on this issue, honest! Cut me some slack.

In the meantime I am cuddling Yoshi and spoiling her rotten. Enabling her Q-Tip habit and lap addiction. Crushing her head any way I can think of.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Rebel Meow

Fauxhawk
When she dreams, runs around like a freak and eats her dinner she gets this funny hairdo.

Feeling Just Fine, Thanks.

Well another Valentine’s Day is here and yet again I am single for it. Unlike most single gals this doesn’t bother me in the least. I am honestly not the slightest bit lonely or upset about it. And I really couldn’t even tell you why except that I have never thought my single status reflected poorly on me. I have really never felt that I NEEEEEEDED a man to be happy. It is very true for me to say when I hear all the funny/weird/terrible relationship issues that my friends go through I just hang up the phone and feel nothing but relief that my life is not complicated that way. And I feel this relief far more than I have ever felt lonely. Perhaps I think this way because when I look back on my past serious relationships I mostly remember the hard times. The sad times. The times being lied to and cheated on. And worst of all feeling so lonely while being in a relationship. I have felt far lonelier with a man in my life than I have ever felt being single.

There is so much pressure to be hooked up in this world and I admit to feeling it sometimes. Especially lately now that I am the last single chick in my whole circle of friends. Everybody else is married/long termed hooked-up and all but three couples have kids. And one of those couples who don’t is working on changing that as I type. I do feel like the odd duck out but I cannot say that I look at any of my friends’ relationships and envy them. None would suit my needs and desires. I don’t covet anybody’s situation and am perfectly happy with my single status.

I’d even say I probably think it may be considered weirder that I am honestly happy being single than the fact I am without a man. Does that make sense? Everybody just expects that a single woman would be desperately looking for a guy. Simply, I am not and have no immediate plans to.

I just figure that if I go along with my life and do the stuff I love then I might meet somebody in my everyday routine. And if I don’t then….I don’t. Or maybe one day internet dating might pique my interest but not at this moment it doesn’t.

I do celebrate Valentine’s Day as my Dad has ALWAYS been my special guy so we exchange wee gifties. I got a lovely bunch of flowers from him today in beautiful pinks and purples. I feel very loved and cherished by him.

And this Valentine’s Day, unlike others in recent history, I am actually deeply in love. I fell hard over the weekend while looking at dog rescue sites and put in an application to adopt a Min Pin/Chihuahua mixed dog with the sweetest face I have ever seen. I have looked at dozens of dogs and most squeeze my heart. This little pooch actually made me weep when I saw her. Competition is fierce and I haven’t heard back yet if I even get an interview so please pray and send out good poochie vibes my way.

No matter if you are single or married or in that whole dating stage I hope your day is wonderful. Don’t wait for others to treat you well. Treat yourself well and you will never feel alone.

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-What a Pussy

I thought she might like some fresh air out on the balcony. Um...apparently not. It really isn't that cold out. Honest.

Throw Me a Bone...Or Not

Thank you all so much for your excellent advice about doggy adoption. I have still not made a definite decision either way but am still very open to the process. I have decided to go look at any dog that catches my eye. Hopefully on Friday I will get to meet Rockie, a 13 year old Pomeranian who is looking for a home to spend his remaining time in comfort and surrounded by love. I have to admit I had no particular affinity to Poms but his face is so sweet and he sounds mellow and loving. I’ll see what he is really like in person and if there is any connection between us and go from there.

Yesterday was my One Year Cancer Free Anniversary. Unfortunately I didn’t exactly get to celebrate it with wild abandon (or with hookers and blow) as I spent the day in the hospital getting a bone scan. I had a sore spot on my sternum on the side where my cancer was. The docs seemed to think it was cartilage inflammation but we decided a bone scan was needed to be sure. That is the big problem with cancer (the gift that keeps on giving) because you just can’t ignore stuff that you probably would attribute to normal aches and pains if you didn’t have a cancer history. The docs say to come in if you experience any unusual symptom or pain for more than 2 weeks.

So I asked the tech if she saw anything bad on the scan (even though I am not supposed to) and she told me everything looked clear (even though she is not supposed to) and we both promised not to rat each other out and I left feeling significantly better. I got home in the late afternoon and celebrated with tea and chocolate and hugs with Yoshi.

It was a good day.

How Much Is That Doggie In The Window?

I want a dog. A pooch. A pooper. I have dreamed about owning a dog for years but I go back and forth and while every bone in my body aches for a canine buddy practicalities hold me back. Also The Great Unknown is daunting as I have never had a dog in my whole life. I really don’t know what to expect. I haven’t been exposed to a whole bunch of dogs so they are a bit of a mystery to me. However, I have never met a dog I didn’t like and I fuss over them like grannies do their scrumptious grandbabies.

When faced with a big decision I always write out a Pros and Cons list:

Pros

-Am home a lot for the next few months and when I start up my business I can take a dog to work if it is well socialized around people and other dogs.
-I live in a VERY dog friendly building.
-There is a small park nearby and a sea wall to walk along too.
-Watched the entire first season of The Dog Whisperer in one sitting.
-I have a friend who could dog-sit for me if I go out of town or even need a day to myself.
-My parents would love to walk the dog too.

Cons

-Since I am not working I really cannot afford any kind of new pet.
-Yoshi, my cat, might kill the dog. She is very unsocial.
-Very unsure about the whole housebreaking thing. I have light beige carpets too.
-I’ve never had a dog before. I might totally screw it up. Doggie therapy is expensive.
-Not thrilled about dog smell issues as well as cleanliness.
-Very squeamish about poop.
-Deep fear my lap will not be big enough for a very possessive cat and a new dog.
-I cannot afford to replace the couch if the dog eats it.
-I cannot afford to replace my boots and shoes if the dog eats them.
-Since I live in an apartment building a late night/early morn pee run means getting all dressed and going down an elevator and out to the grass. No letting the dog out in the yard wearing my Pjs.
-I am worried about who would take care of the dog if my cancer came back since I don’t have a boyfriend/husband to take over the responsibility.

I have thought that I should have a small dog for space reasons as well as poop reasons. Small dog + small poop = less gagging. I am also very open to older dogs as well as dogs with health problems like deafness or blindness but have decided that I cannot afford to provide long term vet services for a chronically ill dog.

So talk me into it or warn me off. Any thoughts? What do you think?

Crush Your Cat's Head Friday-Make Believe

Abominable Yoshiman in her Snow Cave

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.