Well, the last of the original ‘beasts of burden’ is now gone.

For the 3rd time in less than 3 months I had to put one of my “original” pets to sleep. Allie was my first “real” (non-fish, non-bird) pet. I never even thought I was an animal person until I got her from the Humane Society 15 years ago.

She had been found in an alley so I named her “Alley”  but much like my own name nobody got it right, so it morphed into Allie.

I got better stories from Bubba but Allie lived a no less colorful life and had her own idiosyncrasies and unique qualities.

*She was annoyingly unmercifully affectionate, always trying to be right where I was all the time. “Talking” to me. Hence the suffix “the co-dependent kitty.” She always had to be nearby, if not on, me.

*She liked it when I held her tightly. Really tightly. She would relax into my arms and quit whining right away.

*She’d been separated from her mother too early and would try to suckle on my ear until the end. For real.

She’d get this look and wouldn’t even look at you, just at your ear, as she tried to go in for the suck. I warned several people, they didn’t believe me, and they experienced otherwise.

Fortunately she didn’t do this with too many people.

*Until very near the end she chased her tail, caught and dismembered rabbits (the 2nd to last one was brought into the living room and I dragged it, Allie, and the area rug they were on out to the front porch overnight), and rested on the kitchen window ledge looking at birds.

She was defintely the great hunter, having caught and partially dismembered innumerable m/voles as well as the aforementioned rabbits. Oh, and the snake (story here). Who could forget the snake?

*Several years ago she disappeared for 2 months and 1 day. She got trapped outside during a storm and freaked out and I guess ran. Twice I saw her down the block at the park but she was so traumatized (weird for such a co-dependent animal) that she wouldn’t come near me. I finally gave up.

Then one morning I was out in my garden and she toodled up and rubbed against me like I’d just seen her yesterday. She had lost some weight but she’d survived the mean streets of S’bury just fine.

From that point on, she put up with absolutely no sh** from any animal she didn’t want around. Girl was scared of her (for no reason) so she wasn’t an issue, but Bubba was used to being able to antagonize her at will. When she got back after her street livin’ she wouldn’t take it no mo.

*My favorite features were her Egyptian looking profile and her tan front paws that bowed outward like Vs.

Unlike Li’l Effer, Allie was calm at the end and died peacefully. I’ve been wishing the cats would finally die already, but I will miss her.

Yet I have to admit I felt a huge sense of freedom when I threw away the litter boxes the other day. Huge. Cannot be over-stated how huge…

I was confident I was over cats and then I saw this young cat in the ‘hood the other day. It was soooo sweet and affectionate. I wavered for a moment and then I remembered all the dead m/voles, rabbits, litter box scooping, the tail-breaks (objects broken by their tails), the amount of hair (example here).

The cats were a great addition to my life and I loved them mostly dearly, but I’m over the cat thing for now.


Allie (left) and Bubba in their “fat cat” days.


I love Formula One (open-wheel) racing. Now I would consider myself a casual fan, but I didn’t used to be so casual.

I’ve been to races in KC, Long Beach, Michigan, Florida (24 Hours of Daytona), not to mention all the ones I’ve watched on tv. So yeah, I love open-wheel racing. I even had my picture taken with Johnny Rutherford.

It used to be shown on regular (non-cable) TV, but since the onslaught of NASCAR Formula One has gone (presumably) to cable, which I don’t have. So I’ve gotten out of touch with it.

Just turned on the Indy 500 though, and there are not one, not two, but three, count them THREE women in the race.

And I probably don’t need to point this out but I will anyway: If you get to the big leagues (F-1) then you are not an amateur and you didn’t get there on your looks (although I love a man ‘s butt in a racing suit).

You got there because you are good,  you found an obnoxious number of well-heeled sponsors to back you, you have progressed from (probably) go karts to sprint cars, etc. to prove your ability and (the true test) you have qualified for whatever race(s) you are in.

So rock on, all you Indy women! You’ve made us proud.

I inadvertently and totally unintentionally insulted a colleague today (no really, I did, though I still think he took it in a way I didn’t intend – story of my life).

But more important, I was reminded that I still hadn’t posted here about my therapy session with Bob.

If you’ve been reading me for a while, you probably shouldn’t be surprised that I’ve had some therapy over the years. No really!

Personally and in my opinion, I think if you haven’t ever had some therapy you probably really need it and someone’s too scared to tell you.

Overall, it’s been a great investment. Like everyone’s investments it’s depreciated a bit lately, but overall it’s been enlightening.

So imagine my amazement when I found out I could have a free session in Chicago with my all-time favorite one-time psychologist, Dr. Bob.

It’s weird, because I’ve known him almost forever but we’ve never met. I’ve loved and have respected him for years.

I could never have imagined I’d get to see him, lay/lie on his couch and have a session. It’s kind of like getting to have a session with Dr. Freud if I’d lived in the 19th century and spoke German better.

So the last time I was in Chicago, my friend S. and I fought our way through the Windy City winds to get to his plein-air office. It was a brief session, and even though S. got just one usable photo of me I’m pleased the moment was captured.

(She also inadvertantly also videoed the session with my cell phone, but would you put your therapy session on your blog?! I don’t think so…)

But I am willing to post the photo, because it was a dream come true I want to share:


I don’t know how my friend S. feels about this, though, so I’m using my extensive Picasa skills to anonymize her:


It’s nice when a dream comes true.

It’s not often you get to SEE history being made…Yeah, you can watch it on YouTube later but you can’t always see it being made live. So if you’re not there, get there!!! Go watch it now!!

It’s Obama-rama!!!

Can you tell I’m excited??? How??? Could it be by the over-use of punctuation marks????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ve been listening* to the speeches on the radio but as soon as the windbags and propaganda movie-ettes are over I’m gonna be all over that tv like me on Edy’s Swiss Orange.

This is cool. Sure, my mom had us watch ALL of the space missions to the moon, so we could say we saw them all.

I have sketchy memories (mostly getting up really early to watch the console TV and sit on the red, white and blue hand -me -down couch in my pj’s and seeing stuff didn’t understand but was mesmerized by, but nothing specific.

This I’ll remember and be present for.



*which is hint #999977373873322 that I must be a grownup.

Truth be told, any amount over one is good, but I hit 8000 visits today!! (technically 8030)

Special thanks to Grace, Susan, Brett, Uncle Bob, Uncle Chris, Matt, Omar and probably a few others I’m missing (sorry in advance). You have each visited an average of 1142.857 times over the past 16 months. And yes, of course I figured that out without a calculator…

The most popular post, and you’ll know why when you see it, is this one. 579 views – sad because I think it’s only that popular because of the icture-pay of the unny-bay). Since people can google images and I didn’t put an obscure name on the picture name you can directly locate it. I’ve learned to obfuscate image names better since this. But it’ll be interesting to see how many more freaks people see it by image googling “all-smay unny-bay” (or some variation thereof).

The 2nd most popular? this one (which I attribute to this post being inadvertently linked to someone else’s post—because not that many people care about my cat. I don’t even care that much for him.) 389 views

The 3rd most popular, at 286 views, is this one, which I really just can’t explain. Go figure. Who knew there was such interest?!

My favorite? Any one with a comment from you, dear reader. Keep ’em coming and thank you for your support and interest, even when I have nothing positive or funny to think, not to mention write about.

Yeah, it’s true: I’m bi.

Bi-focular, that is. (Yep, made up another word.)

After 6 years I could no longer avoid them, the b-fs that is. Before, I could just peek over or under my frames and see, but lately I’ve had to take off my glasses AND get close to see some things.

Like books. Reee reee reee — that’s when the alarm bells went off. That and too many headaches.

It was like 3rd grade all over again, only now I can’t see up close and I’m 45, not 10.

Other than that though, it’s just like 3rd grade:

  • Even when wearing them, I can’t see yet. Everything around the edges is blurry and fish-eyed.
  • I loved riding the RoundUp in 3rd grade. I feel like I’m riding the RoundUp now too. Unlike 3rd grade though, I now have recurring vertigo, so riding the RoundUp is not so appealing.
  • Headaches indicate you need glasses, yet ironically, when you get the new glasses you may also get headaches until you’re “used” to them. Happened in 3rd grade when I got my 1st pair; happened now that I’ve gotten my first progressive lenses. Please note: I will no longer refer to them as “bi-focals” because that sounds — way older than 3rd grade.

The one big difference between now and 3rd grade though: When I was in 3rd grade, I wanted whatever my aunt, who is 4 years older than me, had.

So in 3rd grade, I got granny glasses, which were all the rage then (merely coincidental to the fact that my idol wore them).

Now, even though I’m told these “all the rage” (style-wise) (same with the last 2 pairs), I always (at first anyway) hate the frames I “decided” on, and I need a lot of reassurance and validation from others.

To give you an idea of how bad it is, I had to have one trip with my sister (4 if you count all the places we went) and one with my friend, and I got the optician’s advice and the doctor’s advice, and took pix with my phone’s camera (which, BTW, I’m told is NOT unusual for glasses-triers-onners).

Then (irony or subconscious choice? You be the judge) I think I ended up getting the one pair I vetoed when I looked through my phone pix. I can’t bear to rehash it all by looking through the pix because really, what would be the point? It’s too late now.

You can imagine how much the place I ended up buying them from was sooooooooooo glad to see me go. It’s a good thing I can make people laugh while they hate me.

But here’s the thing: I feel vulnerable when I get new glasses. I want to project a certain image: professional, yet kind of funky, chic, au courant AND halfway decent-looking. If you make a poor attempt for the same in undergarments, you can at least hide them. You can’t hide your glasses though.

Plus, unlike underwear, they’re so effing expensive that you can’t just go get another pair if you don’t like what you end up with. Hell, I’d easily have 50-60 pairs if that were the case.

So I’m just wearing them at home for now, until I get my non-roundup legs and no more headaches. Hopefully by then I’ll like them more too.

Due to a couple hundred apparently bored people looking at a post from late February on icanhazcheezburger,* I not only had a record number of people referred to my site, but a record number of page views today.

It was so good that my total number of page views hit 6000 today, which I wasn’t expecting for a few more days!

Now for someone like the late-lamented-but-not-late or a site like, which receive about a bazillion hits a day, my numbers would be pitiful.

And don’t get me wrong – I was excited that mentioned my post Heart attacks: part of the “economic stimulus package” but it didn’t generate nearly the traffic that cheez did.

And for me, a humble person in the flyover zone who talks to herself a lot, this is big. Unfortunately, the post they linked to was kind of lame-o without the background story.

To see that, click the above link, look for This just in: L’il F****er, and go to the link in it for the premature eulogy and (what I think is) a better entry than what they linked to (which is done automatically).

Or just click here and skip all that: Li’l F####er—a eulogy?

Given that my sister Grace, my friend Susan, my colleague Brett and an occasional uncle or two (Bob & Chris) are my “core audience,” getting to 6000 people in one year is pretty good. Today excepted, that means my core audience has (on average) each looked at my blog over 1200 times last year. Thanks you guys! Where do you find the time?

I’ve said before that the numbers aren’t as meaningful as providing people enjoyment, but we all know that’s bull*&^-: I want both.

*I don’t get it either…

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