I. Spilled. Coffee. On. Mr. Man! I am a horrible mommy. I made my a.m. coffee and thought that I could fit some hot chocolate in the cup too (the cocoa also is made in my nifty Tassimo). Well, the cup starter to overflow, Mr. Man was winding his away around my feet and when I went to grab the cup, the hot liquid splashed me, I said, “Fuck!” and some of it spilled onto Mr. Man’s fur. I was traumatized, he was fine. I chased after him to make sure he was ok, and he was busy licking the coffee/cocoa off of his fur. He must have got it all because when I came home tonight, his fur was once again white and pristine.
I have so far received the thumbs up from two guys last from last night. One was the last guy I talked to. No no no no NO! The other one, I was surprised. I remember the conversation as being painful but I guess once I started yapping about hockey, it was all right. He likes the Blackhawks. Boo. He’s a Ph.D. student about 90 minutes from me. With gas being $3.60/gallon, I’m not so inclined to hook up with someone that far away. He also received his master’s from the University of Michigan, rival of my Michigan State.
One of the guys last night knew my girl Gigi’s ex-husband. She spent the morning trying to figure it out, since all I had was a first name and the knowledge that she and this guy went to h.s. together. She finally remembered who it was and was even more delighted when he posted a photo. So not my type. So not her type.
I have a headache for about the 18 zillionth time this week. I can hardly bear to be outside. When I pulled into my complex tonight, the lawn was being mowed. Oh good God, make it stop. Fresh-cut grass makes my nose plug up immediately. I knew this was going to be a bad spring, because the winter was so mild, but this is awful. The allergy meds make me tired but without them I’m even more miserable. Right now, between everything, I am currently on six medications: two antidepressants, two types of allergy pills, thryoid meds and birth control. Oh, and the ambien a few times a week. No wonder I’m a mess.
I got my ass up and went to Wal-Mart this morning to get some groceries as well as household things. I needed cat food and litter, and while I was down that aisle I decided to get the boys some catnip. When I got home, I spread the catnip on the different levels of their scratching post as well as put some on the floor. Instead of mellowing them out, they started to fight — it was kind of awesome, as they were on different levels of the 6′-tall post, boxing. Now Mr. Man is rolling around on the floor, playing with a toy. Stoned cats are fun.
I am fascinated by the show Ninja Warrior. Have you seen it? It’s on G4, some station that seems to show stupid shit that doesn’t interest me. But I saw this show while I was at my parents and it is some crazy shit. It’s this Japanese show, where contestants try to make it through four insane obstacle courses. When they fail, they end up in a pit of muddy water. It was on last night when I went to bed and it was on this morning when I turned on the TV!
I’m looking forward to dinner with the Asshat later this week. What terrifies me is my speed-dating thingie on Wednesday. What the fuck was I thinking? I’m sure it won’t be too bad. Heh. I’m doing it partly to challenge myself and partly because, well, why not? Well, I can think of a lot of reasons why not but that’s neither here nor there.
Busy day. I completed a big project at work. Learning how to use the system in a new way was fairly frustrating, mostly because it is so counterintutitive. But I persevered, with a few heavy sighs and eye rolls. Tomorrow morning is my interview for the managerial job. I’m looking forward to the challenge of the interview, because I’m much more excited about this position than the last one I interviewed for, and I want to show that. Feisty Monique is ready to get the party started. So keep your fingers crossed for me.
This Weight Watchers thing is insane. I ate at Chic-fil-A today. Eight points for a grilled chicken sandwich and small waffle fries, and I still had a ridiculous number of points to consume. I was adventurous tonight and made roasted tofu with chiles. I ate about 2/3 of a serving then the rest went in the trash. It was the most tofu I have ever consume in my life, so I suppose that’s a positive step forward. And I got my daily allotment of soy and then some!
This morning I woke up about 5:30 and instead of dragging my ass out into the frozen tundra to go workout, I went back to sleep. Reggie the cat ended up in the bedroom, as I tend to forget to do things, like shut doors, when I am half asleep. The little punkin’ took it upon himself to rub his head all over mine. It was kind of endearing but I really just wanted to sleep. Then he sat behind me with one paw on my shoulder. When did my cats get so possessive of me? Mr. Man will situate himself between me and a gentlemen friend if we are sitting on the couch. Last time I had to throw him in jail aka the bathroom. They didn’t use to be like this. The 1/16 oz of testosterone or whatever they have is out of control.
Who apparently doesn’t like cats.
A whole bunch of kitty love coming atcha ….
I’m sitting on the couch, watching “What not to wear,” and Mr. Man is sleeping, clutching my foot.
Earlier today I napped and awoke to find both of the boys plastered against me.
I’ll only be gone five days and my friend will be checking in on them, but I still feel guilty for leaving them.
I do miss my little punkins when I’m gone. 
Last Monday I was supposed to take both of my cats to the vet. Reggie declined to get into his carrier, choosing to hide under the kitchen table instead. So we practiced. I put him in his carrier for a few seconds at a time every day — and it worked! He walked right into his carrier today but was a bit put out when he realized he was in it for the long haul. Yay, I’m smarter than a 15-lb animal.
My foul mood seems to have dissipated, thank goodness. Last night I was e-mailing with a few blogging friends, but I was so pissy I ended up taking a Simply Sleep about 9:30 and crawled into bed, waiting for it to take effect. A few interesting conversations arose though — involving the WWE, my judgment regarding men and whether abstinence makes you fatter.
I bought a new webcam on Ebay yesterday, one that will attach to my laptop. So the four of you that indicated that video chatting with me would be super cool, stay tuned …
Tonight I was supposed to take both of my cats in for their vaccinations. Um, not so much. Mr. Man popped right into his carrier like the good boy he is. Reggie, on the other hand, acted like a cartoon cat, bracing himself against the carrier and refusing to let me push his tubby kitty behind in the carrier. After three attempts, I gave up and let Reggie hide behind my china cabinet. Mr. Man suffered through not one but two rectal probings plus a multitude of shots. I’ll have to drag Reggie’s ass back sometime next week. My friend has offered to watch the cats while I’m gone for Christmas, but if there’s a chance of heavy snow, I’m going to send them to the kennel. Mommy and daddy are paying anyway. 
Last week I sent Ryan a Christmas card (the same cute pink and green cards I sent to those of you on my blogger list. A-dor-a-ble!). As a point of clarification, Ryan insists that “talk is talk,” meaning that we were just talking, it didn’t mean anything, despite him turning just about every conversation to some sexual event from our past. Ok, back to the card. In addition to the regular Xmas message, I wrote, “‘Talk is talk’ but all talk and no action bores me. Let’s either go out or end this once and for all.” The thought of us dating seems to throw him into a fit of hives, which is what I was counting on. Instead, I got this instant message yesterday: “Thanks for the card! : )” Oh. My. God. I nearly fell off my fucking couch. That, my friends, sums up the entire relationship between me and Ryan. Today, I replied to the IM with one of my own: “Not the expected response to the card, but whatever, you’re welcome.” Ryan has managed to do what I did not think possible: Make the thought of having sex with him utterly unappealing. Bravo, big guy. Bravo. (Please salute the demise of this relationship with a dramatic slow clap. Thank you.)
In other news, I finally figured out why my internet connection was so sketchy — my Christmas tree! Now I have to find a new place for my four-foot-tall, pre-lit, Martha Stewart special. Ooh la la.
Made it home about 9 p.m. Friday … my flight was only delayed 20 minutes, which was fabulous, considering the weather across the midwest. It’s just freaking cold here. I went out about 10 a.m. and still had frost on my windshield to scrape off. I am purposefully being lazy today. I need to get my bearings before I go to work on Monday, because …. ugh, I just have a feeling it’s going to be bad.
I used some of my casino winnings to buy my friend S. a gift certificate to the local college de beauty to thank her for checking in on my boys. She fed them while I was gone and knowing her, spent lots of time playing with them. This morning, Reggie woke me up at 6:05 a.m. by crying outside my bedroom door. I got up, tossed more food in their bowl and crawled back into bed. I woke a short time later to find one kitty at my feet and another at my chest. It’s kind of annoying to have them all over me, but also very cute to see how much they missed me.
I finally took the advice of my friend MaryLou and started listening to This American Life by Ira Glass. Now, I have to explain that talk radio annoys the hell out of me. I just hate it. Well, more accurately, it’s the people who call in. Probably because I am so reserved when it comes to expressing my emotions (yes, really), that people who are unrestrained make me uncomfortable. Plus I get bored. I know lots of people listen to NPR and perhaps I should give it a chance. Anyway, I downloaded the podcast of the 11-20 episode of This American Life and listened to it going out to Vegas. It was about an evangelical preacher who stopped believing in hell and the effect that change in belief had on him and his congregation. Highly recommended.
Oh hell, Mr. Man is tangled up in the white wooly duster thingie. Probably because it kind of looks like him.
But I will anyway.
Today was Let’s-get-all-up-in-Monique’s-bidness day. To some extent, yes, I bring it upon myself. I like my friends all to feel included (I am a Libra, remember) and I also tend to get myself into the odd confusing situation that, of course, I seek guidance on. I am beginning to regret the day that my ex informed me he had been promoted, although that day was only six days ago, because (a) everyone knows about it and (b) just because everyone knows about it doesn’t mean I want to talk about it all.the.damn.time. Like today, for example. My replacement started; she’s an acquaintance as we used to work on the same floor. She remembered that I had been married and knew that I was divorced. So she starts asking about my ex, but it’s like she already knew some of the details. Of course, someone, anyone, could have filled her in. But she asked if we had thought about getting back together. And she didn’t ask if he had a girlfriend, she just matter-of-factly said that he didn’t. “He doesn’t have anyone, right?” Oh. My. God. I finally steered the conversation back to, oh, work, with an oh-so-slick “Anyways …”
Yesterday, my friend’s roommate was asking me about my ex. He even asked if I still love my ex, which freaked me out, like is that the vibe I’m putting out? Because I haven’t been in love with my ex in like 3 years. I still care for him, yes, but love?! That conversation, though, started me thinking about when I fell in love with my ex. We started dating in April of 1995 (ok, it was April 14. We saw “Tommy Boy” and had dinner at Red Lobster, super high class for college). We said the I-love-yous in July. Three months, mostly long distance, and I knew. I knew I knew I knew. My point? Hell if I know. He very well may could “have someone.” I don’t know.
Then, this afternoon I went to the doctor. I’ll keep the details brief, but it was my second delightful pelvic exam of the year, as the first was “slightly” abnormal. At least I tested negative for HPV, which is the virus all those TV commercials are about. My friend got HPV from her man-ho of an ex-husband and has had all sorts of girl problems. Anyway, imagine my surprise when my doctor told me that, even if this exam is normal, I have to have another exam in six months. Then I can go back on the yearly cycle. To top it all off, we had a slightly awkward conversation about birth control, as I want to switch from the pill to another method. Seeing my attractive, male doctor halfway pantomime “vaginal insertion” … gah. It doesn’t top my friend Will’s story, not even close — he was asked by a hot doctor if he had anal sex and how often. Double gah.
All right, Will’s story makes me feel better. Whining over with.
Oh, did you know there is a MySpace-ish site for cats? I didn’t either, until I read about it on KG’s site. Go look at my preciouses … they have a shitload of friends already. I’m a whore, I don’t care. I’ll take anyone as my cat friend. (There’s also a site for dogs, for you people who just don’t get it!)
My first project for the new job is a training about money management (oh, the irony!). This training will be 2 1/2 hours long. I don’t know how the hell long to make the material, and no one else really does either. Fortunately, I have mounds of pre-existing material to work from; I just have to put it together in a usable order and rewrite it a bit. I’m up to 13 pages in Word and only halfway through.
My cats think that I am home for their amusement. I thought they slept 23 1/2 hours a day. Apparently not when Mumma is around. The white cat did serve as the work-at-home gargoyle for a bit. That was fun. I thought about sending the picture to his dad, but thought better of it. I got all weepy on the phone this morning, wishing my friend well on her 39-mile walk for breast cancer this weekend. The woman is a machine. Anyway, my point being, if that made me emotional, God knows what other kinds of trouble I can get myself into today. So I shall stick to my plan of writing, then rejoining civilization tonight.
Here’s a picture of my punkin’ ….
