Weird Things


(from Facebook, not sure who to credit, but somebody deserves a lot of it)

I don’t remember where this list came from, but “weird things about me” is a prompt I found hard to resist.  Is that weird?

I suppose the real weird part is having it sit in my drafts folder for six months.  So “hard to resist” may not mean what I think it means.  Anyway, here you go.  Feel free to copy and paste the questions so we can compare weirdness.
1.  Do you like blue cheese?

Absolutely cannot get past the appearance and smell to put it in my mouth.  So I guess that means no.

2. Coke or Pepsi?

Not sure (in a blind taste test)  if I’d be able to tell the difference.  I think I prefer Pepsi but I’ve been buying Coke Zero.  A lot of things in my life are confusing like that.

3. Do you own a gun?

Nope.  Although there’s still a couple of shot guns in the house from W’s trap shooting days, complete with permits.  They are locked away, separate from ammunition.  We are good law-abiding Canadians who will have to fend off intruders with kitchen knives and random blunt objects.  I don’t really have a clear plan.

4. What flavor Kool-aid?

Never touch the stuff.  Raspberry Crystal Lite is pretty good.  I prefer making my own lemon water with Truvia.

5. What do you think of hot dogs?

I think it’s bizarre that white bread with mystery meat and a pile of condiments can taste so good.

6. Favorite tv show?
7. Favorite movie?

I refuse to answer questions containing the word “favourite” especially when it’s spelled incorrectly.

8. What do you drink in the morning?

Water to swallow daily meds and coffee to improve my disposition.

9. Can you do a push-up?

Not likely.

10. Favorite jewelry?
11. Favorite hobby?

Leave me alone.

13. Do you wear glasses?

Yes, when I’m driving.  Otherwise I squint a lot at things in the distance and may appear to be rude and stuck up when I don’t recognize your face at twenty paces and ignore you.

14. Favorite cartoon character?

Cartoons are stupid.

15. Three things you did today?

Went to our accountants office to sign some papers.  Ate a McDonalds breakfast.  Whipped off an email to my baby sister to wish her a happy birthday and let her know her card will be late because I’m a procrastinating moron.  That last part she knows already so I didn’t have to actually point it out.

16. Three drinks you drink regularly?

Coffee. Times three.  And LOTS of water if that counts.

17. Current worries?

Why is life so expensive?  That’s about it.

18. Current hates?


19. Favorite place to be?

Home.  Drinking coffee.

20. How did you ring in the new year?

Blissfully unconscious.  Probably snoring.

21. Where would you like to go?

Back to Ontario.

22. Favorite color?

Red. COLOUR.  I know, I’m being anal.

23. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?

No clue.  But the slipperiness might be weird.

24. Can you whistle?

Very badly.  One barely audible note.

25. Where are you now?

On the couch in my living room. From here I can observe the approach of intruders, assuming they choose to gain access through the front door.

26. Would you be a pirate?

Probably not a very good one.  Not a fan of ships and oceans.  Or looting or swords.

27. Favorite food?

Not blue cheese.

28. What’s in your pockets?

Air and lint.

29. Last thing that made you laugh?

The news.  It also sometimes makes me cry.  And the picture at the top of this post. OMG the look on that cats face.

30. Favorite animal?

Stop it.  Okay, it’s that cat.

31. What’s your most recent injury?

I have a huge bruise on my left leg at the knee.  Must have bumped in to something.  Can’t give you any more details than that.

32. How many tv’s in your house?


33. Worst pain ever?

Crushed disc in my lower back pushing on a nerve.  I spent about eight months on muscle relaxants and pain killers before surgery to remove it.  That’s how long it took to get a proper diagnosis.

34. Do you like to dance?

Not. At. All.  Because AWKWARD.

35. Are your parents still alive?

No.  I miss them.

36. Do you enjoy camping?

No.  Camping is even more stupid than cartoons.

Happy Thursday!  If it’s your birthday today the card from me is gonna be late, sorry!

This all ended up considerably less weird than I expected.  I’ll try to do better next time.

Art du Jour 53

This is what I did yesterday while my house was being cleaned.
Yep, you read that right. I do not go to work outside my home, or inside it either.
For whatever reason, when someone other than me cleans up in here, I appreciate it immensely. It’s magical.

So, to the sound of my vacuum cleaner, I sat down at my desk and started ripping and pasting. I love red.  And all the colours that go with it, which is ALL the colours.   Seriously, I challenge you to think of a colour that can make red look bad.

In other news, there is no other news.  I am lazy and spoiled and well fed.  Like a pampered cat.  I think in a previous life I may have actually been a cat, and decided to come back to live this one still acting like one.  Except for adding coffee.  And being slightly less hairy.

W just asked me who I’m going to vote for next week and I said I couldn’t tell him because it’s private.  And he said you don’t have a clue yet,  do you?  He knows me too well.  But I have been reading up on the candidates so that I can make an informed decision.  Based on something other than who is wearing the most red in her campaign photo.  There are three women running here!  Isn’t that great?

I have many more red things to incorporate into collages so enough non news for now.

Have a beautiful April Tuesday!  Don’t work too hard.

Start the Day

There is something orange in the long green grass. She stands at the kitchen window, barefoot, still nightgown clad, looking into the backyard at the long stretch of overgrown garden that they’re going to turn back into lawn. The grass there is now almost a foot high, tall enough to sway and ripple in the breeze. The coffee pot gurgles and sputters beside her and outside the orange thing leaps.

Well, it really was no springing bound and barely fox-like. The second attempt at a hurdle ends in an ungraceful galumph. But kudos for getting out there and trying to act like a normal cat, she thinks. It can’t be easy.

She has noticed him before in her yard just passing through, looking like a short and rotund fuzzy orange blimp. The fattest cat she has ever seen. This jumping thing is new. There must be lots of creepy crawlies in the long grass that need pouncing upon and he’s giving it his best shot. Surging vault number three. But this one appears to have done him in. He sits and nonchalantly gazes off somewhere in the distance to give the bugs the impression that he no longer cares.

She pours her coffee and leans on the counter cradling the hot mug in both hands, takes that first invigorating sip. Watches the cat pause, consider; perhaps in this ones case, catch his breath.

Suddenly a magpie flaps his way overhead and lands with a squawk on the flat board on the top of the fence. He turns around, stomping his little bird feet, and then he gawks down at crouching orange thing in the grass. Cocks his head. Waits for what will happen next.

The wait is not long. There is no spring left in the cat’s repertoire this fine morning. Perhaps he has had previous altercations with magpies and does not fancy another one at the moment. Or maybe someone just called him home for breakfast. Either of these reasons, or some other mysterious cat notion, gets him up and off and running. Okay, more like lumbering, but moving away from the bird at a pace that’s faster than his normal calm meandering.

The magpie squawks some more. Where are you going? What kind of cat runs away from a bird? Hey! I’m talking to you! And then he takes to the air and is off in search of better less lame adventures.

All is quiet in the garden plot. She was going to get out there this morning and weed whack that long grass to start the process of getting it ready for sod. Maybe today, maybe not. There’s no hurry, really. She tops up her coffee cup and turns away from the window.

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I’ve Lost My Invisible Cat

I’ve Lost My Invisible Cat and Other FV Horror Stories by someone who seriously needs to find a more productive hobby.

The Cheshire Cat as depicted in American McGee...

The Cheshire Cat as depicted in American McGee’s Alice (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I really did  misplace the cat.  Way back when the new Alice in Wonderland movie came out the Farmville people put a Cheshire Cat and a big hookah smoking caterpillar on a hot pink mushroom up for sale and I of course got both of them.  The cat is blue and not exactly pretty so it’s no big deal when it disappears leaving only a little white crescent smile hanging in mid-air.  I re-arranged my entire farm one night when my time would have been better spent sleeping and promptly forgot where I put the cat.  I don’t know what made me suddenly obsess about locating the stupid thing.  It’s in there somewhere.  It’s not easy to pinpoint something that’s invisible.

So, it’s Canada Day once again!  I’m sitting here listening to honking horns and sirens and shouting and cheering noises blowing through my window with the fresh summer breeze.  I guess it’s coming  from the Mall which is a mere two blocks from our house.  And that’s about as close as I’m likely to get to the celebrations.  By the time it’s dark I’ll have forgotten about the inevitable fireworks until the gunshot explosions shatter the darkness.  Then I’ll watch them from my kitchen window.  I’m such a party girl.

It’s a day off for us, but W. has opted to go open the car wash.  Later he’ll come home and complain that it wasn’t at all busy.  That is if he even makes it there.  They’ll have streets closed all over the place.  There’s also construction all along my driving to work route where they’re industriously (hahahaha….insert sarcastic eye rolling here) replacing crumbling sections of curbs.  Mostly they are just putting up barriers and arrows for lane changes and digging holes and generally annoying people like me who forget to go a different way.  I did actually discover a much more timely route which knocks off about five minutes of driving time, but there’s a merge on to a busy highway and then a lane change to the far left, two things I would normally try to avoid.   It takes me to WM on a new street with an entrance to the parking lot at the back of the store.  I also get to drive by the smokers on their break .  There’s a little shack (because Gawd forbid they might ever have to smoke in the rain) and a picnic table about a meter from where the huge trucks lumber by to unload.   Not exactly scenic.  I also avoid ever eating lunch out there.

And speaking of driving, because I sort of was there for a minute, what’s the record for driving with your right signal light flashing and not ever making a right turn?  Six blocks?  Ten?  The guy I was following last night was going for the gold.  Then he suddenly turned his signal off altogether and zipped over two lanes and made a left at a light.  He is one of the reasons why I could never drive for a living without doubling my blood pressure medication.

There are so many count-downs to things on Facebook these days.  The ones for Eclipse and the end of the teachers’ school year thankfully are now over.  One of my teacher friends had it calculated in hours, never mind sleeps.  Now we’re on to waiting for vacations to begin.  I notice nobody ever counts down the fun stuff.  Like – 6 more days until our European holiday comes to an end!  WOOT!!

One other random thing I feel compelled to mention for no particular reason.  Margaret was asked to take over the publication of our store’s newsletter and agreed mostly because it meant we would get a lap top in the Vision Centre.  One day as the deadline approached (its due out tomorrow) she announced to me that I would be in charge of doing the newsletter.  This is what all good managers do – they take on extra work and then they delegate.  Or perhaps she just suddenly remembered that she can’t spell or proofread or recognize grammatical errors.  Not saying she isn’t smart, just challenged when it comes to putting things down on paper.  Turns out the lap top is kept in the personnel office and we have to go and fetch it and take it back.  The publishing program is one I’ve never worked with before this week.  Our promised internet connection isn’t working and neither is the trouble shooting and we can’t spark anyone’s interest in helping us get that up and running.  The store manager has ‘gone to the lake’.  I’m not willing to do the work from home and off the clock like the girl who did the last issue ended up doing because she didn’t have the internet connection at work either.  And the basket in the back of suggestions and newsletter input is empty.  However, I rose to the challenge and got it done.  Put in some policy blather, safety tips, sun awareness advice, contest winners, cartoons, random questions and quotes and a recipe for a Jamaican Jerk sauce for the barbecue fanatics out there.  I wanted to suggest somewhere in large bold type that no one had the right to complain about the newsletter content until the damned basket at the back was full.  But Margaret thought that might be construed as rude.  So the next issue is due in two weeks.  It will be interesting to see if I still have the job of putting it together.  It got me out of seeing a few contact lens patients, so that’s a bonus.

I seem to still be in the newsletter zone, posting a ten topic blog.  Almost feel like going back and arranging it into cute little columns with colored headers.  Almost.  But I don’t have time if I’m ever going to find that blue cat.  Got to get back to the important stuff now.


June 02



by Ben Zulu (I do SO have a brain) Black Cat Extraordinaire

Yes, I am a CAT.  Maybe in your next life you will be so lucky.  I was an abandoned kitten, rescued by the SPCA (super people for cat adoption) and rescued yet again by a boy who, like me, saw nothing weird about falling asleep in one’s litter box.  Momentary lapse.  Nap attacks happen, what can I say.

I have survived many hardships.  Trips into the big scary back yard.  Being locked in a closet.  Baths.  (Shudder).  I have outlived Ash, the big old grey battle-axe cat from hell.  She taught me humility, subservience, and how to accept the blame for EVERYTHING.  The only mother figure I have ever known has bequeathed me all her old hiding places for my myriad of inexplicable fears.  But hey – I’m a cat – I don’t have to explain anything.   Now my life is mostly blissful.  As a cat’s life should be, of course.

Over the years I have developed a complicated communication system and a sophisticated two or three word cat language to inform my servants of my every need.  It’s not my fault that my telepathic powers are strong and their interpretive skills are weak.  When I want something I yowl.  Sometimes these people are so slow to figure out what I’m going on about that I forget myself what it was that was so damned important.

But, come on people, it’s not a long list.

1.   I am starving.  Feed me, for the love of God.

2.   My water bottle is empty.

3.   My litter box is full.

4.   Someone just left the house.  I could quite possibly be all alone!  Tell me to shut up so I know you’re here!

5.   If you don’t feed me NOW, I will die.  I swear, I will just keel over and DIE.

6.   I heard thunder.  Or a bird.  Or maybe just my tummy grumbling. Yowling will make it all better.  Throwing up all that extra cat chow I ate mindlessly five minutes ago might also help.

7.   I strongly suspect, using my great powers of deduction, that since there is a dog person in the house, there could very possibly be a dog skulking about somewhere.  I will yowl from one of my many undisclosed hiding places until I hear these magic words:  “Ben, cut it out!  The dog is gone, you moron!”

8.   I’m wasting away here.  Did you feed me today already?  Are you SURE?

9.   GAH!!! Human with nail clippers and cat brush approaching!  RED ALERT!

10.  There is no reason for yowl number 10, except that it is my god-given right as a feline to yowl whenever the mood strikes, day or night.  So get a grip and deal with it.  And don’t even THINK about taking me to the vet.  You don’t really want to listen to that yowl again, do you?

Oh yeah – back to why it’s great to be a cat.  Sorry if the TGIF title misled you.  Like I ever need to know what day it is. I get to sit and stare at walls whenever I want.  I can play with just about anything, except cat toys which bore the hell out of me unless they’re chock full of cat nip, in which case they are mildly amusing.  I can deposit black cat hair anywhere, just by being there.  It has become my mission in life to cover every surface in this house with bits of my beautiful black coat.  I will beat the vacuum cleaner.  It is foolish to think that a machine can defeat me.  I can curl up on laps and purr and snooze, and get my neck rubbed and my ears scratched…….

I have the most delightful little cat bed with a crinkly bottom that makes the most delicious crinkly noise when I step into it, and I have suddenly been hit with the strongest urge to just crawl in there and stretch and yawn and flex my claws and close my eyes………and…..was that the can opener?……nope….just one of those intoxicating dream sounds…..and you have to go to work?  Awww… sucks to be you.     Zzzzzzzzzz.