Category Archives: hamsters


… that inspired this blog.

Absence Makes Things Different

Was kind of surprised to log in here and a) see new comments and b) SEE ADS ON MY BLOG PAGE.  This is the kind of thing that sneaks up on you when you’re not paying attention.  Like old age and worn out underwear.

Anyway, it looks junky and I don’t like it but I’m not sure if I really care or not and I certainly don’t have the inclination right this minute to start clicking around to see if there is anything I can do about it.  I’m just coming down off a 48-hour work week that I’m not accustomed to working and my body and my brain are both screaming for a break.

You might be surprised that a mere 8 hours out of your week can feel like you lost a couple of days worth of time.  It’s gonna take me an entire weekend to get caught up with my neglected things.

Now that I think of it, that’s like losing an entire night’s sleep.  Or for me, two of ’em.  Bllerrrggghhh.

Gravity, Interrupted.

Prompted by an excellent piece by my good friend and author, Harry Ramble, I wish to share a short countenance that is stored in my memory as one of the first dates I had with PD.

PD’s father owned a camp a couple of hours from here.  It was in a beautiful and secluded wooded area and would make an excellent place to invite a beautiful woman for a nice weekend escape and PD, being no dummy, did that very thing.  And I accepted.

New to this whole “camp” scenario, I didn’t know that the propane tanks which enable cooking and heating inside the camp would be stored in a shed off to the edge of the property, probly about  twenty feet from the camp itself. C’mon. I was a city girl long before I became a country girl… At any rate, the shed had been built amid a blind of pine trees.  Very. Tall. Pine. Trees.  It was dark in the shed. I don’t remember if there was electricity in there, but I stood outside under the pines while PD unlocked the padlock on the door of the shed and stepped inside.  I was to find out later that the loud whooshing sound I heard was from the air escaping the tank when he opened the valve to turn on the propane.  It was quite startling since I did not expect the noise.  AND it was loud. Evidently the squirrel in the tree must have been at least as startled as I was because, mid-whoosh, he dove straight down out of the tree  like a furry gray torpedo  and landed  directly on my head for a second or two… his tiny paws scrambling around in my hair to get his footing long enough to dive yet again.  This time, to the ground and he shot off into the woods, most likely to a backwoods version of Urgi-Care to have a full cardio work-up to make sure he wasn’t having a heart attack. Me? I would never relax outside the confines of my own home, ever again.

Maybe a better title for this post may have been “Squirrel, Interrupted…”


I’m a little over halfway through a long-anticipated week’s vacation from work.  Some people would take this time and make it memorable by booking a flight to a far-off warm, sunny place to relax and soak up some rays.  Yeah, I would probly enjoy that more but I’m using this time to accomplish some goals.   I chose to stay and home and get my life in order.  I’m going to organize the hell out of the mess I’ve called home for quite some time.

You get to a point in your life when everything and everyone else takes the front seat and your poor home life sits in the back and quietly watches the scenery whiz by while sitting there, hands folded in lap, sighing now and then while the miles click off one by one on the speedometer.  The gas gauge slowly depletes itself, the tread on the tires wears and the battery drains a little with each passing mile.  And yet the road stretches on ahead as the engine hums…

You approach a crucial intersection… not sure which way to turn or whether to blow on through that yellow light.  You realize that if you make a wrong turn, you’ll lose time trying to get back on the right road.  You’ve been traveling without a GPS speeding along with no consideration as to where you may end up.  You just drive and drive, gathering dust along the way.

Of course this is all an analogy.  But neglecting important parts of your life and home will leave you along the edge of the road with a flat tire and no jack, feeling even more helpless when you realize your needle is nearing E.

This post is a runaway train. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say when I started and I got so far off track that I can’t even remember where I wanted to go.  And now I’m stuck in this ridiculous analogy and I can’t steer my way out of it.

I’m going to stop here and I’ll come back tomorrow and write something of substance.  In the mean time, I’ll refuel, kick the tires and get back in the driver’s seat tomorrow.  And don’t even think about changing the  station.


“Dancing in the Moonlight” by King Harvest


… this awesome band is getting the recognition they deserve.  Not that Leno is the be-all and end-all of arenas for bands to get noticed, but…  it’s a decent place to get seen.  Months ago, the Kings played on SNL  and still weren’t seen by many people I know.  Maybe now.

This song is a good one, but far from my favorite Top Five.  You should check them out if you haven’t already.

I was pretty happy for them yesterday when they announced One Million followers on Facebook.

Kings of Leon – “Use Somebody” on Leno 5/15/09 (


I got so much crap going on with doctors and appointments and phone calls that I’m boring the hell out of myself so I’m not going to bore you with it. Except that there isn’t much else going on in my life right now. I’m tired feeling like shit and wishing all the testing, etc. was over with. On top of that crap, I now find that I need to have “female” surgery. Happy happy, Joy, joy. Coordinating all these “procedures” is making me way more stressed than I was originally. We all know how hard it is to get a real person on the other end of a telephone, let alone have one get back to you in a timely manner.

Get this: I can schedule my colonoscopy for July 11. But if I want a consult appointment with the doctor beforehand, I can’t get an office appointment until August 4th. I want a consult appointment with the doctor beforehand, so I’m f***ed. I wanted to get this nightmare of a thing over with first thing before anything else. You ever had a colonoscopy? Then you know what I’m talking about. I think it was invented in the 1800s by the Marquis de Sade, or some other sadistic freaktard. For those of you lucky enough to have never gone “under the gun,” so to speak, it goes something like this:

(In case you were too busy/lazy/whatever to click on the link up there, I guess I should specify that a colonoscopy is a diagnostic TOOL [ahem] to screen one’s colon-large intestine- for cancerous lesions, polyps, etc.) A “flexible” (HA!) tube which measures about 5 feet long (I know!) is inserted into the intestine through exactly where you’re thinking. There is a camera attached to the end of the tube which enables the administering MD the opportunity to see scary things which he will (hopefully and) promptly remove so that you can come back another time and have it all done over again to make sure he removed the scary stuff in the first place. Or so that new scary stuff can be nipped in the bud. (Yeah, bad choice of words, I know.) The patient is put into a “twilight” sleep by a trained and well-paid anesthesiologist who is supposed to know how much of that shit to give you to make sure you’re not aware that you’re in excruciating pain. Or at the very least, so that you don’t remember and kick your doctor in the cajones at your follow-up visit for ripping up your innards. But wait, that’s not the fun part. Actually, what I’ve told you so far is NOTHING compared to the prep for the test.

I’ve had two of these in the past and both times I was awed by the amazing ability the human body has to overcome such adversity as is perpetrated upon it by the means by which one “cleanses” one’s colon. I said that wrong, but you know what I mean. I have a headache, cut me a break.

There are actually several methods by which one may arrive at the same end. (Yeah, I’m losing it, can you tell? And if you’re not laughing then I’m sorely disappointed.) I have always been fortunate enough to choose doctors and surgeons who insist on totally cleaned-out victims and who prescribe the most barbaric and humiliating means of, um, evacuation. I’m trying to to be too graphic, even though I’ve most likely tarnished your opinion of me as a Lady early on in this post…

You have to mix about a gallon of water with the foulest-tasting crap you can imagine. For some reason I always choose Cherry flavor and then I can’t ingest anything that even vaguely tastes like Cherry for a couple of years afterward. You have to drink copious amounts of this at regular intervals until your body furiously revolts and sends you high-tailing it to the nearest privy where you will take up residence for the next twelve hours or so, ending up with not just a sore dupa but a huge red circle imprinted in your butt cheeks from the toilet seat.

I had to laugh, I was reading several articles about ways to ease the stress of the prep. One article suggested:

Take a five-minute walk every 10 minutes during the time you’re drinking the laxative, but stay near a toilet.

I had to read that over again.

So, I hope I didn’t scare anybody, it’s really an important test. Especially if you have a family history like mine which includes colon cancer. I was basically trying to make my own self feel better by venting. It’s really not as bad as I let on. Afterward I have always felt fine. I even have some funny stories associated with the experiences, but I’ll save those for another time. This post has gone on long enough and I’d hate for it to end up in the toilet.


It seems that everyone I know in Blog Land has jumped on the Twitter Train (phrase stolen from Piglet) and it’s rollin’ down the track and I’m left standing at the station with my Louis Vuitton bag (yeah right) and a Timmy Ho’s Double-Double and a half-eaten bagle. Do I want to buy a ticket or just hang loose? Hmmmn.

Twitter seems like a simple enough concept. JuJu likes it cause it’s quick and easy and you can put a single thought or statement out there when you don’t have time to write an entire blog post. I have found that I enjoy reading snippets of people’s day here and there. Like I mentioned to her, I have at least several thoughts or happenings every day that I think I would like to incorporate into a post, but by themselves are not much to build on. If I decide to save them for a random post, they get forgotten. She said that Twitter is great for just that reason.

I was especially surprised to see that Mark is on board; I’m wondering if he’s finding it hard to just write a sentence or two at a time… (kidding Mark! xo)

But I’ve decided that, even though I’m feeling left out, that’s just one more thing that I’d be adding to an already-full plate and I just plain don’t have the time. Chances are I’d get all obsessive about it and I sure don’t need any more obsessions in my life. And I’ve never been one to jump on the bandwagon train just because everyone else is doing something. So I think I’ll pass. I was slow to get a microwave and a cellphone. I was the last person in America to see The Titanic. People were posting and boasting archives before I even knew what a Blog was. I guess I’ll just hold out and sit back and watch y’all havin’ fun and twitterin’.


First, I think an apology is in order for anyone who was grossed out by last night’s video presentation. Surprisingly, I didn’t regret either the posting or the decision to “tie one on” as much as I thought I might.

Where do you suppose the phrase “tie one on” originated?  Well, since I’m not pressed for time (wonder of all wonders) I looked it up.  The first explanation I found is this:

It’s a British saying from the 1950s, it is a way of saying someone’s getting severely drunk.  It comes from the expression “burn one on,” which pretty much means the same thing, but is an older expression (by about 20 years). Thank you, Mindless Crap.

Which sounded lame, (sorry, MC) so I kept looking until I found an explanation that suited me.

This, courtesy of  Modern Drunkard Magazine :

First recorded in 1951, this phrase for getting smashed begs the question, “Tie what on?” Why, a bun, of course. Until the 1950s, bun was commonly used in place of bender (it still is in the U.K.). Tie a bun on/get your drink on) predates tie one on by 50 years, but when bun fell out of favor, it fell out of the phrase as well. Bun, by the way, is most likely a corruption of bung, archaic Scottish slang for intoxicated.

Okay, so maybe that was more information than we needed. At any rate, I now have a good idea where to find anything on the Internet that has to do with getting smashed/snookered/bent/plastered/sloshed/soused or three sheets to the wind.  This has all been pretty much a waste of my time, however, as I do not intend to make it a habit.  I am kind of tickled though that I found out that “crapulous” is indeed a word.  It goes way back to the 18th Century, derived from the Greek word kraipale and means drunken headache or nausea.  So the next time someone tells you they feel crapulous, they are hung over.  Thanks again, Modern Drunkard Magazine.

Please, though, let me say this.  In no way do I condone ingesting mass quantities of alcohol.  And NEVER driving under the influence.  I’m just, well, having kind of a rough week and wanted to take a little of the edge off.  I stayed in my home and there was no animal or spousal abuse involved.  I made no harassing telephone calls, kept all my clothes on.  In fact I fell asleep on the couch in jeans and a hoodie and woke up there at 8:15 am.  None the worse for wear.  Well, except for the ridiculous video of the eyeball lady. And a mild leg cramp.

And I just might stay in again tonight.


I “ordered” a video from YouTube about a half an hour ago and it’s not here yet so you’re not watching it.  In case it shows up, as it eventually will, before I get back here, its a band called Stereophonics.  The song is Dakota and it’s This Week’s New  Favorite Song for me.  Enjoy it if its here and no cracks about the dudes sunglasses.  I’ll merge this post with it later.

I have about three posts in my head (M+, are you laughing?) and lots to tell so come back soon.