Archive for December, 2009

In which my cat lets me know I can’t sing

Yeah. I’m gonna blog a bit about one of my cats. Baby Mae to be exact. She happens to be my favorite. And yes, I have a favorite cat. I love them all, but she’s my favorite cuzz she loves me back. Not like the rest of those bitches that follow Greg around like he’s the greatest thing ever.

No, I’m not bitter.

Anyway. Baby Mae is kind of a peculiar cat. She hardly ever meows. Or purrs. In fact, it’s rare that she makes ANY noise at all, which is kinda awesome, but full of suck sometimes, too. Like when she got closed into the closet and we couldn’t find her for hours? Yeah. If she’d have just opened her damn mouth and meowed, everything would have been cool.

So, Baby’s weird. She has this thing where if she wants you to pet her, she’ll nip at you. Ok, so she only does that to Greg, but it’s still weird. If he’s sitting at the computer, she’ll bite his elbow until he pets her. If he’s on the couch, she’ll bite his leg. He doesn’t like it all that much, but it makes me laugh so hard I fear I might piss my pants one of these days. And that she only bites him when she wants pet makes it all the more funny cuzz it’s not me. We all know that it’s always funny when it’s not happening to you.

Now, when it comes to me, Baby is much more subtle. She wants me to pet her? She jumps in my lap or stands on my shoulder until I acknowledge her in a way she sees fit. No biting, no weird thing. Well, not too weird, I guess. The whole standing-on-my-shoulder thing is a little weird.

When it comes to loud noises, however, Baby flips her shit and becomes full of The Kitty Hate®. Thunderstorms are, by far, her biggest fear. She starts shaking and she’ll cry. There was one storm where Greg ran outside to roll up the windows in the car and she got right up on the screen door and screamed until he came back inside. Yeah, she literally screamed. It’s kinda creepy when a cat does that.

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I love to sing. Always have and, I’m sure, always will. I don’t claim to be the next Whitney Houston or anything, but I can carry a tune and they seem to like me when I go to karaoke bars. I also tend to sing pretty damned loudly. There was one night when I was still living with my Becky, that I decided to drink while she was at a concert that I wanted to go to, but couldn’t for some reason or another. When I’m drinking, I’m that much more likely to sing and sing LOUD. I had an Evanescence CD playing and was singing along when someone pounded on my door. (Keep in mind that it was winter, so NO windows were open.) I opened the door and found my neighbor from across the street on my porch. He asked me to turn down my radio cuzz he could hear it in his house. He then advised me to fix the treble cuzz all he could hear was “that chick singing”. Yeah. I’m that loud sometimes.

So, after Greg left for work this morning, I sat down here at my loverly computer and went to and started listening to and posting music. (It’s a great music site and I highly recommend visiting it. You can find pretty much any music you want.) At one point, I began to sing.

That’s where you should start remembering that Baby hates loud noises.

I’m singing away and playing Bejeweled, cuzz it’s my CRACK, when Baby decided to jump up on the computer desk and put her tail in my face. I put her on the ground and continued to sing and be dominated by Bejeweled. She jumped up here again and just stared at me. You know the creepy way cats stare at people sometimes when they want something so they try to take over your mind? Or something like that. Maybe it’s just my cats.


So, Baby’s staring at me and I’m ignoring her and continuing on with everything I was doing. That’s when I remembered why Baby was staring at me like she was trying to eat my soul. I was singing and I was singing loudly. Before I could make my brain shut my mouth, so made sure I’d remember that she doesn’t think I can sing for shit.

She bit me. On my chin. She bit my fucking chin!

Now, this isn’t something new. She’s bitten my chin before when I was singing or when I was yelling at something. (I happen to yell at the TV like the people inside can hear me. It’s not weird when guys yell at the TV during sports, why is it weird that I yell at he TV regardless of what happens to be on it? Hmm?) I knew the bite was coming, but that didn’t seem to take away any of the surprise I felt when it actually happened.

I’m no longer singing. And Baby Mae? Well, she’s sleeping on the couch like she’s Queen Shit. Stupid cat not loving my loud singing voice. Maybe she’s not my favorite after all…


Don’t stand (or park. or breathe.) so close to me

So, it’s occurred to me recently that maybe I shouldn’t venture out into the public around the holidays. Or ever, really. I think I’ve mentioned before that I have issues with there being too many people in one space. Specifically stores. Well, the last couple of days have proven to me that not only are most people assholes that have absolutely no concern for the people around them, but that maybe I should seek medication to keep me tame when I venture outside my house.

The other night, we all went up to the grocery store to get some random crap that we needed and to partake in this Redbox movie rental thingie. (You pick out a movie and feed it your credit card and they charge you $1 and spit out your movie.) Now, going through the store, I was my usual self, dodging people with all the skill of a blind elephant. Naturally, my nerves were a bit frayed, but I was well within my not-kicking-everyone’s-asses-yet limits. Checking out was a bit of an adventure since my son decided to pick that particular time to become attached to my hip as literally as he could. He knows I have issues with people getting in my personal space, but he figures that he can invade it since I’m his mama or whatever.

Well, we finished checking out and went to the Redbox thing. We picked out the movies we wanted to watch and I told Greg to watch the cart while I did everything with the card. (Come to find out, when I told Greg to watch everything, there was a dude that looked like he might’ve been homeless eyeballing the cart. If I’d have seen him, I’d have probably offered him some of our groceries, but that’s a different story for a different entry.) As I’m reading the instructions, a lady comes up behind me with her cart, waiting for me to finish. Ok, no big deal. Generally when I realize there’s someone behind me, I try to hurry up with whatever I’m doing, just to be polite. The Redbox was not cooperating, however, so I was moving as fast as it would let me. I looked over my shoulder to see where Greg and the boy were and I saw nothing but brown, frizzy hair. Seeing as how Greg doesn’t have massive amounts of brown, frizzy hair and my kidling happens to be a Ginger, I knew the mass of fuzz didn’t belong to anyone I knew. I inched closer to the Redbox and tried to make it go faster.

As I was waiting for it to spit the first movie out at me, The Fuzz (which is what I’m calling this chick) bumped me. Since it was the first time, I apologized. I have a talent for falling while standing still, so it could very well have been me that bumped The Fuzz. The Fuzz didn’t acknowledge that I had even spoke, just kept on reading the sales ad, so I went about my business. While waiting for the second movie to be spit out, The Fuzz bumped into me AGAIN. Now, the first time, yeah, could’ve been me. The second time? There is no way in hell I bumped her cuzz I was pretty much on top of the Redbox at this point. I took a deep breath and tried to let it go. My little Ginger kid was with me and I try not to lose my shit in front of him. I mean, I’m already gonna win Mommy Of The Year, no need to pad the results further.

Before I was finished, The Fuzz had bumped me another THREE times. Not once did she even acknowledge that I was there. As soon as I walked away from the machine, The Fuzz was right on top of it, so I know she knew I was there. As we all walked out to the car, I started bitching about The Fuzz invading my space. That’s when Greg told me that he was watching the whole time and was just waiting for me to explode, which proved to me that I was not the one bumping into her. Grr.

As we were attempting to pull out of the parking space some dude, that very well could’ve been The Fuzz’s twin, decided that right then would be a good time to take his sweet ass time walking behind my car. That, of course, made me even more stabby.

By the time we got home, a minimum of 5 other people had decided to either walk in front of the car or hit me with their car. I was pretty much completely frazzled by the time I walked in the door of my house. Even the cats knew enough to get out of my way at that point.

The lesson here? If you see me, do your damnedest to not stand, park or breathe too close to me. I hate breathing other people’s breath more than I hate clowns, so breathing in my face is just asking for me to kick your ass.

Tell me, intarwebz, am I the only person who gets bothered by shit like this? I really don’t think I am and if it turns out I am? Well, I guess I’ll just have to wear a warning sticker or something.

In which thinking isn’t the same as doing

So, I’ve been slacking. Again. I had planned on being all productive and bloggy and what not during the two weeks I worked pretty much continuously, but then I didn’t. No real reason. I mean, I thought about it every night, but seems that simply thinking about something doesn’t mean that it’s going to magically happen. I keep trying to tell myself this every time I need to buy new clothes, but I still hold onto the glimmer of hope that if I think about dieting and exercising, I’ll magically be thinner. You’d think I”d have learned my lesson by now.


December is not my most favorite month in the world, so if I continue to slack this month, you’ll just have to forgive me. And no, it really doesn’t have anything to do with the holidays. Granted, Christmas has lost some of its magic since I so bravely ventured into the land of “Santa’s Helper”, but the holidays don’t bother me. They’re basically just another normal day to me cuzz I’m almost always working. December just pisses me off. Bad things seem to always happen in December and this year isn’t proving to be any different.

But enough about that.

I am not looking forward to my drive home in about 5 hours. It’s been spitting freezing rain for the last few hours and I don’t even want to imagine what the roads are going to be like. Add to the mix that I don’t have a snow scraper (I know, I know. I live in Michigan for fuck’s sake, how can I not have a snow scraper. Honestly? No clue. I know I had one at some point, but it seems to have been eaten by my car.) AND the heater seems to be wonky and you’ve got the recipe for an eventful morning drive that I don’t want any part of.


Have you ever had the pleasure of hearing your own voice as you’re speaking? I’m not talking about how you can hear yourself speak, but rather hearing yourself speak over something like a radio AS you’re speaking? See, I’ve heard myself on tape and shit many times, I am not particularly fond of my speaking voice, but whatever. One thing I absolutely hate is being able to hear myself while I’m dispatching over someone’s scanner and/or radio. It’s incredibly distracting for me and it pisses me off something fierce. Thankfully, it’s not something that happens all that often. I think most of my crews recognize certain looks I throw around and if they’re anywhere near where I happen to be while I’m giving a call to a crew, they know to turn down their radios for fear of getting me angry. (Ok, so they probably don’t fear me so much as they’re trying to make sure that I don’t fuck something up, but I like to think there could be fear there. It makes me feel powerful. Mwahaha!) Tonight, however, I have heard myself on two separate occasions, one of which I know was accidental. The other one? I’m not so sure about.

Tonight was the company Christmas party, so we had another company helping us cover our area so the crew on duty could go for a little bit. Not unusual, we utilize mutual aid a lot. For the Christmas party, though, the crews helping out come to our bases and hang out, rather than sitting in the parking lot. Well, the crew that came to the base I work at decided to hang out in the bat cave. Not a big deal, they knew to shut up when the phone rang and all that happy horse shit. What they didn’t know was how I feel about hearing myself while I’m giving a call. (Obviously, being that they never worked with me before, they weren’t gonna know.) When it happened, I made a comment about how much it irked me and there was some joking and ha-ha-ha-ing going on. The next time it happened, however, the Death Look© got tossed out there. Smart assed comments were made by both me and the crew, but it was resolved without any blood shed. This last time I know was completely accidental. My normal crew left their radio up in the entry way with their drug box and other happy ambulance things that shouldn’t be left out to freeze over night, and it would seem they forgot to turn it down after they left the party. How do I know it was an accident? It woke them up when I was giving another crew a call. Hehehe.

Damn, I am one exciting woman tonight. I bitched about December and hearing myself over the radio. No wonder y’all keep coming back! I’m a thrill a minute! 😛